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I 


JOSEPH  McDONO? 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID- 


NEW  WORKS 

Skutue  an&  (General  literature, 

PUBLISHED  BY 

RICHARD  GRIFFIN  AND  COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS  TO  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  GLASGOW, 


5  Warwick  Square, 

PATEENOSTER   ROW, 
* 

LONDON. 


Agriculture,  Botany,  and  Natural  History. 

Balfour's  Manual  of  Botany,    -  Page  2 

Book  of  Nature, 


Davy's  Agricultural  Chemistry, 
Encyclopaedia  of  Natural  History,    - 
Illustrations  of  Zoology,   - 
Ramsay's  Geology  of  Arran,     -        -        - 
White's  Natural  History  of  Selborne,      - 

Arts  and  Manufactures. 

Book  of  Trades,         -       - 
Encyclopaedia  of  Fine  Arts,       - 

Manufactures, 

Useful  Arts,    - 


Graham's  Compositor's  Guide, 
Kerr  on  the  Manufacture  of  Sugar, 
Napier's  Manual  of  Dyeing,     - 

Electro  Metallurgy,    - 

Phillips's  Metallurgy. 

Treatise  on  Gold-Mining, 


Shier's  Directions  for  Testing  Cane-Juice,      -       -  8 

Biography. 

Child's  (Mrs  )  Good  Wives, 2 

Cyclopaedia  of  Modern  Religious  Biography,          -  6 

Smyth's  Worthies  of  England,         -       ...  8 

History  and  Antiquities. 

Campbell's  Naval  History, 2 

Cox's  Biblical  Antiquities, 2 

Sacred  History,        -                                         -  2 

Eadie's  Oriental  History,          -----  8 

Ecclesiastical  History— Early  Christianity,           -  3 

Ferguson's  Roman  Republic, 3 

Bale's  History  of  the  Jews, 5 

Hinds's  Early  Christianity, 6 

History  of  Greece,     -------3 

History  of  Greece  and  Macedonia,                          -  3 

History  of  the  Jews,          ------  5 

History  of  Rome,       -------7 

Jeremie's  Church  History,       -----  fi 

Pococke  s  India  in  Greece,       -       -                       -  7 

Potter's  Grecian  Antiquities, 7 

Ramsay's  Roman  Antiquities,          ....  7 

Stoddart's  Introduction  to  History,                          -  8 
Universal  History.     -------8 

Language  and  Metaphysics. 

Coleridge  on  Method.        •       -       -       -       -       -  2 

D'Orsey's  Spelling  by  Dictation,     ...       -  3 

Encyclopaedia  of  Mental  Philosophy,                       -  6 

History  of  Greek  Literature. 3 

Greek  and  Roman  Philosophy,  3 

Rxrnian  Literature,  -----  7 

fmportance  of  Literature  to  Men  of  Business,       -  5 

Maurice's  Moral  Philosophy,   -----  g 

Cental  Science.        --       --       -       -       -  fl 

Stoddart's  Universal  Grammar,       -       -       -       -  S 

• Glossology, a 

Whately's  Logic,       -       -              -       -       -       -  o 

— —  Rhetoric, | 


ftke  of  Wales  Buildings, 

BUCHANAN-STREET, 
GLASGOW. 


Medical. 

Encyclopedia  of  the  Medical  Sciences,  -  -  Page  6 
Hooper's  Medical  Dictionary,  -----  6 
Spooner's  Veterinary  Art,  -----  8 


Mercantile. 

Gilmer's  Interest  Tables.  -  -  ...  3 
Morrison's  Book-Keeping,  -----  6 
Reehorst's  Commercial  Dictionary,  -  7 
Marine  Dictionary,  -  -  -  -  7 


Miscellaneous, 

Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana,  Library  Edition,      -  6 

Ditto,         new  octavo  edition,                          -  4 

Griffin's  Juvenile  Library,       -----  g 

Popular  Library,        -----  7 

Marriage  Offering. 6 

Mitchison's  Scottish  Song,                ....  6 

Poison's  Law  of  Nations,          -----  7 

Pope's  Poetical  Works  and  Translations,               -  7 

Senior's  Political  Economy, 7 

Religious  and  'Moral. 

Abbott's  Works,         -       ... 

Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress, 

Cox's  Biblical  Antiquities,        -----  jj 

Geography  and  Natural  History  of  Palestine,  2 

Manners  and  Customs  of  the  Israelites,      -  2 

Cyclopaedia  of  Religious  Anecdotes,                        -  2 

Religious  Biography,                       -  6 

• Religious  Denominations,  7 

Cruden's  Concordance,     ------  2 

Eadie's  Biblical  Cyclopaedia, 3 

Biblical  Dictionary,      -----  3 

Kingsley's  National  Sermons,  -----  5 

Sacred  Lyre,      - -7 

Todd's  Works, 8 


The  Sciences  and  Mathematics. 

Airy' s  Contributions  to  Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana,  2 

Book  of  Nature. 2 

Davy's  Agricultural  Chemistry,  S 

Encyclopaedia  of  Astronomy,    -----  2 

Experimental  Philosophy,    -       -  3 

Mathematics.                -       -       -  6 

Mechanical  Philosophy,               -  6 

..  5 

-       -  5 


Griffin's  Crystallography, 
~ ataloj 


Scientific  Ca 


Herschel's  Contributions  to  Encyclop.  Metropolitana,  6 
Hunt's  Photography,        ------     fi 

Schoedler  and  Medlock's  Scientific  Treatises,        -     8 
Von  Kobell'g  Mineralogy,  ....      8 


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COLERIDGE.— A  TREATISE  ON  METHOD. 

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COX.— BIBLICAL  ANTIQUITIES. 

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ECCLESIASTICAL  HISTORY. 

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GREECE.— HISTORY  OF. 

HISTORY  OF  GREECE  from  the  Earliest  Period  to  the  Close  of  the 
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ENCYCLOPEDIA  METROPOLTTAIA: 


OR, 


of  Sintbersal 


ON  A  METHODICAL  PLAN 


PROJECTED  BY  SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE. 


SECOND  EDITION,  REVISED. 


irfo  IteintL    JSistnnj  mft  35ingrnpljt[, 


GEEEK  AND  EOMAN 
PHILOSOPHY  AND  SCIENCE. 


LONDON  AND  GLASGOW : 
PUBLISHED  BY  RICHARD  GRIFFIN  AND  COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS  TO  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  GLASGOW. 

1853. 


LONDON  :  PRINTED  BY   WILLIAM  CLOWES  AND  SONS,  STAMFORD  STREET- 


HISTORY 

OF 

GREEK   AND    ROMAN 


BY 

CHARLES  JAMES  BLOMFIELD,  D.D. 

BISHOP  OF  LONDON; 

WILLIAM  LOWNDES,  ESQ.,  M.A.,  Q.C. 

BRAZENOSE  COLLEGE,  OXFORD  ; 

REV.  J.  W.  BLAKESLEY,  M.A. 

VICAR  OF  WARE, 
LATE  FELLOW  AND  TUTOR  OF  TRINITY  COLLEGE,   CAMBRIDGE; 

ANDREW  FINDLATER,  A.M. 
JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN,  B.D. 

FORMERLY  FELLOW  OF  ORIEL  COLLEGE,  OXFORD  ; 

JAMES  AMIRAUX  JEREMIE,  D.D. 

REGIUS  PROFESSOR  OF  DIVINITY,  CAMBRIDGE; 

W.  WHEWELL,  D.D.,  F.R.S. 

MASTER  OF   TRINITY  COLLEGE,   AND  PROFESSOR  OF   MORAL  PHILOSOPHY, 
CAMBRIDGE  ; 

PETER  BARLOW,  ESQ.,  F.R.S. 

PROFESSOR  AT   THE  ROYAL  MILITARY  ACADEMY,  WOOLWICH; 


THE  LATE  FRANCIS  LUNN,  M.A. 

ST.  JOHN'S  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE. 


Bill 


PREFACE. 


IT  is  difficult  to  picture  the  succession  of  events  that  compose 
the  history  of  a  nation  in  any  other  way  than  by  associating  them 
with  the  fortunes  of  individuals.  Hence  the  common  complaint 
that,  instead  of  the  histories  of  peoples,  we  have  only  the  lives  of 
kings  and  military  leaders.  Historians  find  that  this  is  the 
readiest  way  to  connect  the  events,  and  render  them  easily 
remembered. 

The  same  expedient  is,  perhaps,  still  more  necessary  in  tracing 
the  progress  of  human  opinions.  The  history  of  thoughts  is  best 
understood  and  remembered  in  connection  with  the  history  of 
the  thinkers.  Those  '  airy  nothings'  can  hardly  become  fixed  ob- 
jects in  the  memory,  but  by  giving  them  '  a  local  habitation  and 
a  name ;'  •  and  a  necessary  commentary  on  the  writings  or  doc- 
trines of  a  philosopher,  is  a  knowledge  of  the  character  and 
environment  of  the  man. 

It  is  on  this  principle  that,  in  the  present  volume,  the  History 
of  ancient  Philosophy  and  Science  is  associated  with  Biographical 
notices  of  the  leading  thinkers  and  writers.  As  it  is  hardly 
to  be  supposed  that  one  man  should  be  equally  conversant  with 
all  the  parts  of  so  extensive  a  subject,  the  several  sketches  that 
compose  the  volume  have  been  contributed  by  different  hands. 
Owing  to  this,  and  to  the  circumstance  that  they  stood  originally 
in  a  different  connection,  they  unavoidably  involve  some  degree 


Vi  PEEFACE. 

of  repetition  and  of  variation  in  the  plan  of  execution.  Nor  is 
it  pretended  that  they  furnish  a  complete  and  uninterrupted 
history  of  philosophy.  Still  it  is  believed  that  the  reader, 
while  making  himself  acquainted  with  the  lives  of  some  of  the 
most  remarkable  men  of  ancient  times,  will  acquire  a  tolerable 
notion  of  the  chief  phases  that  speculative  opinion  presented 
in  the  ancient  world;  and  that  what  the  picture  thus  loses  in 
point  of  uniformity  and  continuity,  it  gains  in  reality  and  clear- 
ness. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  speak  of  the  important  place  that 
Greek  and  Roman  Philosophy  holds  in  the  history  of  intellectual 
progress.  "Whatever  has  been  done  since  had  its  spring  in  the 
speculative  energy  of  Greece;  and  the  present  position  of  phi- 
losophy cannot  be  rightly  understood  without  making  ourselves 
acquainted  with  the  speculations  of  the  men  with  whom  it 
originated. 

The  intelligent  reader  will  perceive  the  deficiencies  and  errors 
of  the  different  systems  of  doctrine  here  sketched  without 
having  them  pointed  out  to  him  at  every  step ;  nor  will  he  less 
recognise  and  admire  the  genius  of  the  men,  though  they  ad- 
vanced many  things  that,  in  the  light  of  the  nineteenth  century 
of  the  Christian  era,  may  seem  wrong  or  were  ridiculous. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

jESOP         --------------  1 

Precepts      ------------11 

SOCRATES : 

Philosophy  of  the  Early  Poets  ------__15 

Wise  Men  of  Greece  ----------  16 

•  JSsop  -------------  16 

Thales         ___---______  17 

Anaximander      -----------  19 

Anaximenes        ___________  20 

Leucippus  and  Democritus        ________  21 

Anaxagoras         -_-________21 

Diogenes  Apolloniates        -___-____  24 

Archelaus   ----_-___-__  24 

Prevalence  of  Superstition  in  Greece         -       -       -       _       -       -26 

The  Sophists       _-----_-___  26 

Protagoras  ---------___  29 

Gorgias       --_-______--  29 

Prodicus     _---____-_*__  29 

Hippias       -       -       __________  3Q 

Effects  produced  by  the  teaching  of  the  Sophists                             -  32 

Dialectics    -----_----__  32 

Socrates      ---_--______  33 

Birth  _---__-_____  33 

Philosophy          __________  37 

Character  _--       ________  42 

Death  ------______  49 

Sects  founded  by  his  followers  _---_--  50 

PLATO : 

Birth _______  53 

Early  Writings  -----______  54 

Philosophy  of  Italy — Heraclitus        _______  57 

Pythagoras  and  his  followers    --------  53 


Viii  CONTENTS. 

PLATO— continued. 

Page 
Death          --------____      68 

Spurious  Writings      _---______68 

Outline  of  Philosophy        __--_____      71 

Successors  __-_-      —      --_-__      88 
Modern  Platonists      -___--____88 

ARISTOTLE  : 

Early  Histories  of  Aristotle       --------96 

Summary  of  his  Life  -       ---_-___    101-147 

His  Descendants         -----_____    143 

Fate  of  his  Works      ----_-____    150 

Ancient  Commentators  on  Aristotle  -------    155 

Nature  of  the  Exoteric  Writings        _______    159 

Nature  of  the  Politics  and  Poetics     -       -       -       -       -       -      -170 

Literary  Notice  of  his  existing  Writings    -__-__    172 

EPICURUS : 

Life    -------------    185 

Doctrines    ------______    188 

Successors  ------_-____    204 

CICERO : 

Character  of  his  Philosophical  Writings    ------    207 

His  Academy      _-_----____    21 8 

Carneades  ------------    219 

Philo  and  Antilochus         -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -223 

Mixed  Philosophy  of  Cicero       ---_____    223 

Rhetorical  Works       ---_______    227 

Moral  and  Physical  Writings    --------    230 

Poetical  and  Historical  Works  -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -235 

Orations      -----____-__    235 

Characters  of  his  Style       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -238 

Roman  Eloquence       ----____-_    240 

Orators  before  Cicero         _---_-_-_    240 
Ciceronian  Age  -----------    241 

Decline  of  Roman  Oratory         -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -241 

MSS.,  Editions,  &c.,  of  Cicero's  Works    ------    242 

SENECA. -THE  STOICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

Progress  of  Philosophy  in  Rome        _______  249 

Cynicism  the  Parent  of  Stoicism        _______  249 

Antisthenes         __________  250 

Diogenes     ___________  251 

Onesicritus-       -_______-_  252 

Monimus    -__-_.__---  252 

Crates         ___________  252 


CONTENTS.  ix 

SENECA.— THE  STOICAL  PHILOSOPHY — continued. 

Page 

Keview  of  the  Cynical  Doctrines        _-__-__    252 
The  Stoics  -----------    254 

Zeno    ------------    254 

Cleanthes    -----------    259 

Chrysippus  __________  260 

Stoicism  among  the  Romans       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -261 

Panaetius     --___-_____    261 

Posidonius  -----______    261 

Seneca         ___________    261 

Summary  of  his  Life  -       --_____    261 

His  Works  -_----____    264 

Dion  Prusseus     ----------    265 

Epictetus    -_--_______    265 

Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus  -  -  -  -  -  -  -265 

SEXTUS  EMPIRICUS.— THE  SCEPTICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

Causes  of  Pyrrhonism         -----____    269 

History  of  Scepticism         -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -270 

Pyrrho         ____________    271 

Disciples  of  Pyrrho     -------..„   £73 

Sextus  Empiricus       ---_-__-__    273 
Definition  of  Scepticism      -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -275 

Fundamental  Principles      -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -275 

PLOTINUS.— THE  ECLECTICS,  OR  LATER  PLATONISTS. 

Rise  of  Eclecticism     ---_--____  287 

Potamo       --_----__-__  288 

Ammonius  Saccas       -----_-___  288 

Herennius — Origen    ----------  289 

Longinus    -------------  289 

Plotinus      ---_-__--___  289 

Dionysius  Longinus    --------__  221 

Amelius      ------__--__  291 

Porphyry    -----_----.„  291 

Jamblicus  ------------  293 

Hierocles    ----_-__---_  294 

Proclus       -__-____-.___  295 

Hypatia      ------------  296 

Character  of  the  Plotinian  Teaching  -------  297 

ARCHIMEDES.— GREEK  MATHEMATICS. 

Thales        ------------  307 

Anaximander      -----______  307 

Pythagoras          _--_--_____  307 

Democritus         -----------  308 


X  CONTENTS. 

ARCHIMEDES. — GREEK  MATHEMATICS— continued. 

Page 
Anaxagoras         -----------    308 

Hippocrates        -----------    308 

Archytas     ------------    308 

Menechmus         -----------    308 

Eudoxus     ------------    308 

Plato  -------------309 

Zenodorus  ------------309 

Autolycus  ------------    310 

Euclid         ------------    313 

Aristillus    ------------314 

Timocharis         -----------    314 

Aratus         ------------    314 

Aristarchus         -       -       -       -       -       -       ~       - '     -       ~       -314 

Archimedes         -----------    314 

Mathematical  Treatises      --------315 

Mechanical  Treatises  -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -318 

Ctesibius    ------------    323 

Eratosthenes       -----------    323 

Apollonius  ------------    324 

GREEK  PHYSICS. 

ASTRONOMY-      -----------    329 

Claims  of  the  Chaldeans,  &c.     -       ------    329 

Thales         -----------331 

Anaximander      ----------    332 

Anaximenes         ----------    332 

Anaxagoras         ----------    332 

Pythagoras         ----------    332 

Philolaus    -----------333 

Eudoxus      -----------    333 

Calippus     -----------    333 

Autolycus   -----------334 

Euclid         -----------335 

Aristarchus         ----------    335 

Eratosthenes       ----------    336 

Archimedes         ----------    337 

Hipparchus         ____-.-----    337 

Ptolemy      -----------340 

Greeks  posterior  to  Ptolemy       -------    345 

MECHANICS  : 

Aristotle     -----------    346 

Archimedes         ----------    446 

HYDROSTATICS  : 

Archimedes         ----------    347 


CONTENTS.  xi 
GREEK  PHYSICS  -continued. 

PNEUMATICS  : 

Aristotle      -------____  351 

OPTICS  : 

Hebrew  Mirrors     '----_____  352 

Aristotle      ----_--____  353 

Euclid        -«---_-____  353 

Numa         ------_____  355 

Archimedes'  Mirrors  --_--____  355 

Ptolemy  Euergetes     ---______  357 

Ptolemy  the  Astronomer    --------  357 

Pliny  ----_>_>____  361 

ELECTRICITY  : 

Thales         -------____  362 

Theophrastus      -------___  352 

Pliny  ----__--____  362 

Solinus        --__-__..___  362 

Aristotle     ---________  363 

Oppian        ----__-____  363 

Claudian     _----______  363 

Scribonius  Largus       ----_____  363 

Galen  -------       _____  363 

Eustathius  -------____  353 


M  S  0  P. 


REPRINTED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  EDITION. 


[G.  E.  p.] 


FLOURISHED  ABOUT   B.  C.  560. 

THE  use  of  the  allegory  or  fable,  as  a  means  of  instruction,  appears 
to  have  been  one  of  the  earliest  dictates  of  enlightened  reason ;  and 
has  been  resorted  to,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  by  the  moralists  and 
philosophers  of  all  ages  and  countries.  Hence  it  is,  that  throughout 
the  classical  historians  we  meet  so  often  with  the  name  of  J£sop, 
perpetuated  for  no  other  reason  than  that  he  was  the  most  famous  of 
ancient  fabulists ;  or,  as  some  writers  have  alleged,  the  very  inventor 
of  this  mode  of  instruction.  His  life  is  totally  unconnected  with  any 
public  events  of  importance;  his  family  were  utterly  obscure;  no 
kingdoms  were  conquered  by  him,  or  settled  in  legislation;  on  the 
contrary,  human  nature  appears  in  complete  degradation  in  his  person 
and  circumstances  :  in  condition  a  slave,  and  deformed,  it  is  said,  in 
person,  even  to  the  excitement  of  disgust  in  those  who  beheld  him, 
he  yet  sustains  a  high  rank  amongst  the  sages  of  ancient  times,  and 
certainly  more  for  his  method  of  teaching  than  for  anything  extraor- 
dinary which  he  communicates.  Indeed,  what  were  his  particular 
sentiments  as  a  philosopher  can  now  be  very  faintly  traced :  his  fables, 
in  which  all  his  precepts  appear  to  have  been  conveyed,  are  con- 
siderably mutilated ;  and  the  majority  of  those  which  bear  his  name 
are  the  fabrication  of  a  later  period.  In  those  which  can  with  any 
degree  of  certainty  be  traced  to  J£sop  as  their  author,  his  exact  mean- 
ing is  not  always  obvious ;  and  the  occasion  of  their  composition, 
which  must  have  given  a  much  greater  propriety  to  their  application, 
is,  for  the  most  part,  unknown.  The  celebrity  of  JEsop  is,  perhaps, 
still  more  remarkable,  as  it  appears  to  have  been  originally  uncon- 
nected with  any  recommendation  from  the  form  of  his  compositions, 
or  the  mode  of  publishing  them  :  they  were  not  adorned  by  the  graces 
of  poetry,  nor  do  they  appear  to  have  been  delivered  with  eloquence. 
Their  novelty,  their  liveliness,  and  their  strict  analogy  to  real  life, 
appear  to  have  been  their  only  attraction;  features  of  the  genuine 
fable  which,  under  every  form  of  its  development,  are  a  tribute  to  the 
imperishable  charms  of  truth. 

Several  countries  dispute  the  honour  of  giving  birth  to  ^Esop :  he  Uncertainty 
is  sometimes  called  a  Thracian,  and  by  other  writers  a  Samian ;  but  Jrfy!"s  coun" 
the  more  commonly-received  opinion  is,  that  he  was  born  in  the  town 
of  Ammonius,  in  the  Greater  Phrygia.     Perhaps  these  indications  of 
the  uncertainty,  serve  only  to  prove  the  meanness  of  his  origin :  of 

B2 


4  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

the  names  of  his  parents  we  hear  nothing.     His  person,  as  we  have 
already  noticed,  was  deformed  in  the  highest  degree ;  an  immense 
Person  and    protuberance  of  the  back  threw  his  head  forward,  and  appears  from 
complexion.  earjy  jjfe  to  nave  utterly  stopped  his  growth  :  his  complexion  is  said 
to  have  been  swarthy;  and  hence  some  writers  have  supposed  the 
name  of  ^Esop  to  be  a  corruption  of  ^Ethiop.     In  addition  to  these 
disadvantages,  he  had  so  serious  an  imperfection  in  his  speech,  that 
for  a  considerable  period  of  his  life  he  was  unable  to  articulate  any 
sounds  distinctly.     Camerarius,  a  learned   German  critic,  to  whose 
researches  we  shall  be  much  indebted  in  this  paper,  mentions  a  tra- 
dition, to  which,  however,  he  refuses  credit,  that  JEsop  had  the  good 
fortune  in  his  youth  to  relieve  certain  travelling  priests  of  his  country 
who  were  exhausted  with  hunger  and  had  lost  their  way ;  when,  in 
requital  of  his  kind  offices,  by  virtue  of  their  prayers  to  the  gods,  they 
first  brought  him  to  the  use  of  his  tongue.     This  is  all  we  hear  of  his 
Slave  of        early  life.     And  we  next  meet  with  him  at  the  period  of  his  being 
Xanthus.      offered  as  a  slave  to  his  third  master,  Xanthus  (or,  as  Herodotus  calls 
him,  Jadmon),  of  the  island  of  Samos.     He  was  carried  by  a  factor 
to  Ephesus,  together  with  some  other  slaves,  for  the  chance  of  sale, 
or  on  business  for  his  master.     As  our  future  sage  was  feeble  in  his 
body,  his  companions  allowed  him  his  choice  as  to  which  of  their 
different  packages  he  would  undertake  to   carry,  and  he,  to  their 
astonishment,  selected  the  largest  and  heaviest,   containing  the  pro- 
visions of  the  party ;  an  instance  of  what  they  deemed  his  folly,  which 
excited  no  little  merriment.     In  the  morning  ^Esop  bore  their  ridicule 
and  his  own  burden  with  patience.     At  noon,  however,  the  basket 
of  provender  was  considerably  lightened,  by  the  hearty  meal  which 
the  slaves  then  made,  and  ^Esop  was,  of  course,  considerably  relieved 
from  the  weight  of  his  charge.     In  a  few  hours  more,  another  meal 
completely   consumed   the   food,    and   left   the   provident   weakling 
entirely  at  his  ease  for  the  remainder  of  the  journey.      Upon  his 
arrival  at  Ephesus  with  his  slaves,  the  merchant  soon   disposed  of 
them  all  by  private  bargain,  excepting  three,  stated  to  have  been  a 
musician,  an  orator,  and  our  poor  neglected  fabulist,  of  no  apparent 
accomplishments,  and  of  no  profession.     These  he  took  to  the  open 
market,  as  the  only  place  in  which  he  was  likely  to  dispose  of  them  ; 
the  two  former  accoutred  with  the  implements  of  their  profession,  and 
the  latter  making  little  better  appearance  that  that  of  a  deformed 
idiot ;  when  Xanthus,  a  Samian  philosopher,  entering  the  area,  was 
attracted  by  the  appearance  of  ^Esop's  companions,   and  inquired  o 
.the  merchant  his  price  for  them.     Objecting  to  this  as  exorbitant,  the 
philosopher  was  on  the  point  of  quitting  the  market,  when  some  o 
the  pupils,  by  whom  he  was   attended,  pointed  out  Msop  to   his 
notice.     At  their   solicitation,  and  jocularly,    more  than  with   any] 
serious  intention,  he  put  the  accustomed   question  to  the  despised, 
captive,  of  "  What  he  could  do?"  "  Nothing  at  all,"  replied  ^Esop;j 
"  for  I  have  just  overheard  my  companions  answer  your  question,  by 


JESOP.  O 

affirming  that  they  could  do  everything ;  therefore  there  is  nothing 
left  for  me  to  do."  Xanthus,  delighted  with  this  answer,  now  entered 
into  conversation  with  this  unattractive  wit,  and  became  fully  sensible 
of  his  superior  powers.  In  answer  to  a  question  respecting  the 
deformity  of  his  person,  JSsop  boldly  remarked,  "  that  a  philosopher 
like  Xanthus  should  appreciate  a  man  according  to  the  vigour  of  his 
mind,  and  not  to  the  appearance  of  his  body;"  an  observation  upon 
which  that  philosopher  immediately  acted.  The  factor  being  asked 
the  price  of  his  deformed  slave,  declared  that  could  he  obtain  from  the 
purchaser  a  proper  sum  for  the  other  two,  he  would  cheerfully  part 
with  jEsop  for  nothing.  This  offer  was  accepted ;  Xanthus  at  once 
paid  the  price  to  which  he  had  first  objected  for  the  musician  and  the 
orator,  and  returned  home  with  all  three  of  the  slaves.  JEsop  here 
found  his  master  in  more  hopeless  bondage  than  himself,  to  a  wife  of 
a  most  furious  arid  jealous  temper.  On  his  first  appearance  amongst  Anecdotes, 
the  domestics,  as  her  husband's  slave,  she  asked,  in  scorn,  of  Xanthus, 
"  whether  it  were  a  beast  or  a  man  that  he  had  now  brought  home  ?" 
when  uEsop,  unable  to  repress  a  similar  disposition,  is  said  to  have 
exclaimed,  "  From  the  mercies  of  fire,  water,  and  a  wicked  woman, 
great  gods  deliver  us!"  This  of  course  awoke  the  vehement  temper 
of  his  mistress,  and  Msop,  with  difficulty,  brought  himself  through 
this  awkward  reception,  by  pretending  that  he  only  recited  some  lines 
of  the  poet  Euripides,  and  observing,  how  practicable  it  was  for  her 
whom  he  addressed  to  make  herself  "  as  glorious  in  the  rank  of  good 
women."  This  story,  however,  cannot  be  correct  in  its  entire  details, 
for  the  murder  of  JEsop,  in  Delphi,  occurred  at  least  eighty  years 
before  the  Greek  tragedian  was  born.  It  is  stated,  however,  that  the 
aptness  of  ^Esop's  reply  on  this  occasion  conciliated  the  favour  of  the 
incensed  lady. 

^Esop  had  not  been  long  in  the  service  of  the  Samian  philosopher, 
when  the  latter  took  his  newly-acquired  slave  to  a  gardener  for  the 
purpose  of  purchasing  some  herbs;  the  agriculturalist,  observing 
Xanthus  in  the  habit  of  a  philosopher,  inquired  the  reason  why  those 
plants  which  grew  of  themselves,  and  without  any  artificial  aid,  should 
come  up  so  fast  and  thrive  so  well,  whilst  others,  though  never  so 
carefully  cultivated,  could  scarcely  be  preserved  from  perishing.  "Now," 
continued  the  gardener,  "  you  who  are  a  philosopher,  pray  disclose  to 
me  the  meaning  of  this."  Xanthus  was,  however,  utterly  at  a  loss  for 
a  satisfactory  answer,  and  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  saying, 
"  That  so  Providence  had  ordered  it  to  be."  Here  ^Esop  interfered ; 
and,  after  a  sarcasm  upon  the  imperfection  of  the  school  of  philosophy 
in  which  Xanthus  was  bred,  requested  to  be  permitted  himself  to  give 
the  solution.  "  For  what,"  said  the  slave,  "signifies  a  general  answer 
to  a  general  question,  but  an  acknowledgment  of  complete  ignorance 
on  the  subject  proposed  ?"  To  this  Xanthus  readily  consented,  observ- 
ing to  the  gardener,  that  it  was  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  philosopher 
to  answer  minutely  such  a  trivial  question.  "  The  earth,  then,"  said 


6  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

JEsop,  "  may  be  considered  as  in  the  nature  of  a  real  mother  to  that 
which  she  brings  forth  out  of  her  own  bowels ;  but  she  is  only  a  step- 
dame  in  the  production  of  those  plants  that  are  cultivated  and  assisted, 
nay,  sometimes  even  forced  under  her  care,  by  means  of  the  sheer  in- 
dustry of  another.  It  is  natural  for  her  to  withdraw  her  nourishment 
from  the  one,  and  to  lavish  her  powers  upon  the  other  kind  of  plants." 
.This  solution  of  the  gardener's  question  is  said  to  have  so  delighted 
him,  that  he  not  only  refused  to  take  money  for  the  herbs  that  had 
been  bought,  but  welcomed  JSsop  to  the  produce  of  his  garden  in 
future. 

J£sop  had  to  bear  with  all  the  oppressions  of  slavery ;  and  many 
anecdotes,  of  dubious  authority,  are  told  of  this  part  of  his  life.  He 
is  said  to  have  interpreted  an  obscure  inscription,  which  had  utterly 
foiled  his  master ;  and,  emboldened  by  his  success,  to  have  demanded 
of  him  what  reward  he  would  offer,  if  he  were  to  point  out  to  him  a 
considerable  hidden  treasure  ?  "  One-half  of  it  and  your  liberty,"  said 
Xanthus.  Possessed  of  the  property,  however,  the  faithless  Samian 
conveniently  forgot  the  conditions  upon  which  he  acquired  it,  and  re- 
turned to  the  defenceless  -<Esop  menaces  and  blows  ;  though  he  is  said 
to  have  been  fearful  lest  he  should  betray  the  matter  to  king  Dionysius, 
who  was  entitled  to  the  advantage  of  the  discovery.  On  another  oc- 
casion, the  wife  of  Xanthus  having  eloped  from  her  husband,  notwith- 
standing the  acerbity  of  her  disposition,  he  was  desirous  of  recalling 
her,  and  ^Esop  undertook  the  task  of  fulfilling  his  wishes.  He  pre- 
pared a  plentiful  feast,  and  gave  it  publicly  abroad,  that  his  master's 
first  wife  having  separated  from  him,  this  entertainment  was  prepared 
for  a  second  marriage.  The  effect  was  as  he  had  imagined,  the  lady 
immediately  ordered  her  chariot  to  be  prepared,  and  returned  to  the 
house  of  her  husband.  At  another  time  Xanthus,  in  a  moment  of 
inebrietv,  had  made  a  considerable  wager  that  "  he  would  drink  the 
sea  dry,"  and,  on  becoming  sober,  applied  to  JEsop  to  extricate  him 
from  the  difficulty  into  which  he  had  involved  himself.  "  Sir,"  said 
the  slave,  "  be  careful  of  Bacchus ;  it  is  the  humour  of  this  god  first  to 
make  men  cheerful,  then  to  make  them  drunk,  and  lastly  to  make  them 
mad."  He  exhorted  him,  however,  to  take  courage,  and  pursue  his 
advice.  Xanthus,  accordingly,  appeared  next  day  on  the  sea-shore, 
attended  by  the  man  with  whom  he  had  made  the  ridiculous  agree- 
ment. "And  now,"  said  he,  "  am  I  ready  to  drink  the  sea  dry,  but 
it  is  you  who  must  first  stop  all  the  rivers  which  run  into  it." 

A  circumstance,  however,  at  last  occurred,  which  not  only  liberated 
beration.  j£SOp  from  his  undeserved  degradation,  but  so  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  Samians  as  to  elevate  him  highly  in  the  public  esteem.  He 
appears,  in  this  instance,  to  have  been  a  little  more  wary  in  his  com- 
munications for  the  benefit  of  others,  and  determined  to  assert  that 
station  in  society  for  which  his  acute  and  comprehensive  mind  so  ad- 
mirably qualified  him.  In  common  with  all  the  surrounding  states  in 
this  semibarbarous  age,  these  people  were  strongly  addicted  to  the 


^ESOP.  7 

practice  of  augury.  On  a  day  of  peculiar  solemnity  amongst  them, 
an  eagle  had  snatched  away  a  ring  upon  which  the  arms  of  the  town 
were  engraven,  and,  after  having  carried  it  to  a  considerable  distance, 
dropped  it  at  last  into  the  bosom  of  a  slave.  To  explain  this  mys- 
terious omen  the  philosophers  of  Samos  were  consulted,  and,  amongst 
others,  Xanthus,  the  master  of  ^Esop,  who  immediately  applied  to 
him  for  assistance.  When  all  the  sages  of  the  island  had  been  com- 
pletely perplexed,  Xanthus  arose,  at  the  instigation  of  jEsop,  in  an 
assembly  of  his  countrymen,  confessing  his  ignorance,  and  recommend- 
ing them  to  his  long-tried  slave,  as  a  man  peculiarly  gifted  by  the  gods 
with  wisdom,  for  a  solution  of  the  augury.  .ZEsop  was  accordingly 
summoned  to  the  assembly,  but  declined  to  enter  upon  the  subject. 
He  alleged  the  unworthiness  of  his  condition,  and  the  serious  effects  of 
his  master's  permanent  displeasure  against  him,  should  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  augury  interfere  with  any  of  his  designs.  This  objection 
was  of  course  overruled,  by  his  immediate  manumission  through  the 
interference  of  the  assembly,  on  which  he  is  reported  to  have  addressed 
them  as  follows:  "  The  eagle,"  said  ^Esop,  "  is  a  royal  bird,  and  sig- 
nifies a  great  king ;  the  dropping  of  your  signet  into  the  bosom  of  a 
slave,  or  one  who  has  no  power  over  himself,  denotes  the  loss  of  your 
liberties :  if  you  are  not  particularly  vigilant  in  the  conducting  your 
affairs,  this  omen  will  but  too  shortly  be  realized."  The  event  was 
answerable  to  ^Esop's  solution  of  the  augury;  for,  shortly  after, 
Crojsus,  king  of  Lydia,  commissioned  ambassadors  to  demand  a  tri- 
bute, as  a  token  of  submission  to  him,  from  the  Samians;  and  the 
successful  interpreter  of  the  oracle  was  called  to  the  debate,  which 
such  a  demand  naturally  produced.  *'  The  path  of  liberty,"  observed  His  honours, 
the  now  honoured  sage,  "  is  narrow  and  rugged  at  the  entrance ;  but 
the  further  you  advance  on  it,  the  plainer  and  the  smoother  it  shall  be 
found."  This  noble  sentiment  decided  the  Samians  :  a  defiance  was 
pronounced  against  the  Lydian  monarch,  and  his  embassy  dismissed 
with  contempt.  When  Crcesus  learnt  these  circumstances, -and  that 
one  man,  recently  a  slave,  had,  by  a  few  words  only,  induced  the 
boldness  of  this  measure,  he  sent  to  the  Samians,  offering  them  peace 
and  independence,  on  condition  of  their  delivering  up  ^Esop,  the  insti- 
gator to  the  threatened  war.  To  this  the  sage  himself  offered  his 
instant  acquiescence,  but  first  admonished  the  Samians  on  the  im- 
providence of  purchasing  peace  by  sending  away  those  counsellors  in 
whom  consisted  their  chief  defence ;  and  on  this,  it  is  said,  he  first 
introduced  the  well-known  fable  of  the  Wolves  and  the  Sheep  who 
gave  up  their  only  defenders,  the  Dogs.  This  apologue,  so  well 
applied,  determined  the  people  again  to  resist  the  demands  of  Crcesus ; 
a  tribute  of  regard  for  ^Esop  which  emboldened  him  to  a  patriotic 
step  for  the  future  stability  of  their  state,  which  is  not  exceeded  in 
personal  courage  or  address  in  all  history.  He  suddenly  departed 
from  Samos,  and  presented  himself  at  the  Lydian  camp.  "  I  come  Success  at 
not  here,  great  king,"  said  he  to  Croesus,  "  in  the  condition  of  a  man  ^^Ly 


8 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


with  Croesus. 


abandoned  or  given  up  by  his  country,  but  of  my  own  will  appeal- 
before  you,  with  this  only  request,  that  you  will  vouchsafe  me  the 
honour  of  your  royal  ear  before  you  condemn  me."  He  then  ad- 
dressed the  monarch  in  the  elegant  fable  of  the  Captive  Grasshopper, 
who  begged  for  life  upon  this  simple  plea :  "  that  all  her  business  was 
her  song,  and  that  her  death  could  bring  no  possible  advantage  to  her 
possessor."  The  generous  monarch  felt  the  force  of  the  appeal,  and 
not  only  pardoned  the  petitioner,  but  desired  him  to  ask  any  further 
favour  within  his  wishes.  -ZEsop  was  not  forgetful  of  those  who  had 
been  his  deliverers  from  slavery,  and  might  almost  be  called  his  coun- 
trymen*; he  implored  the  king's  goodwill  toward  the  Samians ;  and 
obtained  them  a  grant  of  permanent  peace  and  favour  under  the  royal 
signet.  JSsop  hastened  to  Samos  with  the  welcome  news,  and  a 
statue  was  decreed  to  his  honour  in  return  for  his  important  services. 
He  then  returned  to  the  court  of  Lydia,  and  entered  upon  a  still  more 
extensive  career  of  fame ;  he  became  a  public  counsellor  of  the  state, 

in  favour  and  the  distinguished  and  permanent  favourite  of  Cro2sus ;  under  whose 
patronage,  and  for  whose  instruction  and  amusement,  he  composed 
many  of  those  apologues  that  have  been  handed  down,  under  his 
name,  from  age  to  age,  and  through  the  languages  of  all  civilized 
countries,  to  the  present  day. 

JEsop  now,  easy  in  his  circumstances,  thirsted  for  new  opportunities 
of  observation,  and  obtained  leave  to  travel.  His  ultimate  and  prin- 
cipal object  was  to  visit  the  famous  city  of  Babylon,  then  in  its  me- 
ridian splendour,  and  to  the  king  of  which  he  had  procured  a  recom- 
mendation from  Croesus,  who  was  in  alliance  with  him.  In  the  way 

His  travels.  to  Babylon,  Msop  traversed  the  rising  states  of  Greece,  and  called 
forth  the  admiration  of  several  of  the  cities  where  he  abode.  At  the 
villa  of  Periander,  near  Corinth,  he  met  the  Seven  Sages,  whose  fame 
was  at  that  time  at  its  zenith,  and  contended  with  them  on  the  ques- 
tion of  the  best  form  of  government,  JEsop  alone  preferring  a  monarchy 
to  that  of  any  other.  With  Solon  he  appears  to  have  been  previously 
acquainted,  upon  the  visit  of  that  legislator  to  the  court  of  Croesus, 
when  he  is  said  to  have  advised  him  (on  his  being  neglected  at  court) 
"  to  make  his  visits  to  kings  as  pleasant,  or  as  seldom  as  possible," 
to  which  the  more  rigid  Grecian  philosopher  replied,  "  or,  rather  as 
seldom,  or  as  profitable  as  possible."  When  he  visited  Athens,  then 
under  the  dominion  of  Pisistratus,  he  admonished  the  discontented 
citizens  that  they  should  rather  bear  the  slight  evils  of  which  they 
complained,  than  seek  an  unknown  and  perhaps  an  intolerable  change; 
and  on  this  occasion  was  it  that  he  related  the  famous  tale  of  the 
'  Frogs  wanting  a  King,'  and  who,  discontented  with  their  harmless 
log-sovereign,  were  punished  by  Jupiter  for  their  oscillatory  disposition 
by  the  tyranny  of  the  direful  stork. 

.Esop  at  last  reached  the  dominions  of  Labynetus,  king  of  Babylon, 
where  his  talent  at  solving  enigmas  and  auguries  produced  him  ample 
rewards  and  reputation.  Secure  of  a  comfortable  subsistence,  he  next 


Settles  at 
Babylon. 


.ESOP.  9 

sought  for  an  equivalent  to  the  natural  affections  of  life,  by  the  substi- 
tution of  an  artificial  connection,  not  uncommon  in  those  days.  He 
adopted  as  his  son  arid  heir  a  promising  youth  of  the  name  of  Ennus, 
who  appears,  however,  to  have  treated  him  with  peculiar  ingratitude. 
Ennus  forged  his  adopted  father's  name  and  seal  to  a  paper  containing 
the  plan  of  a  plot  against  the  king  of  Babylon,1  who,  giving  way 
instantly  to  his  rage,  and  not  imagining  the  falsehood  of  the  accuser, 
immediately  ordered  the  execution  of  JEsop.  From  death,  however, 
the  sage  was  rescued  by  some  noble  friends,  who  yet  were  obliged  to 
conceal  him  from  the  public  vengeance  by  a  close  confinement. 
Labynetus  soon  had  reason  to  repent  his  rashness  in  depriving  himself 
of  so  useful  a  counsellor,  without  having  given  him  the  chance  of 
acquittal  by  a  hearing ;  for  Amasis,  king  of  Egypt,  having  sent  to 
Babylon  requesting  to  be  supplied  with  an  architect  "  who  could 
build  a  tower  which  should  hang  in  the  air,  and  with  a  philosopher 
who  could  resolve  all  difficult  questions  "  (this  kind  of  practice  forming 
at  that  time  one  of  the  principal  amusements  of  a  court),  Labynetus 
was  immediately  reminded  of  the  qualifications  of  ^Esop,  whom  he 
esteemed  capable  of  performing  all  the  wishes  of  his  Egyptian  ally. 
On  expressing  sorrow  for  his  unknown  fate,  the  friends  of  the  sage 
produced  him  to  the  joyful  and  repentant  monarch  in  the  rags  and 
squalid  appearance  of  a  prison,  and  ^Esop  quickly  cleared  himself 
from  all  suspicion  of  guilt.  Labynetus,  in  just  revenge,  would  now 
have  sacrificed  his  treacherous  accuser,  but  JEsop  procured  his  pardon, 
and  even  again  restored  him  to  his  own  wonted  favour,  .<Esop  then 
departed  for  Egypt  with  the  ambassadors  of  Amasis ;  but  although 
he  seems  readily  to  have  undertaken  the  obscure  offices  required — in 
which  way  he  performed  them  we  are  not  told — he  appears  to  have 
soon  returned  to  Babylon,  where  he  was  much  occupied  in  the  educa- 
of  Ennus.  Amongst  his  precepts  we  find  the  following  fragments  of 
no  common  mind:  "  Worship  God,  my  son, "  said  he,  "with  care,  His  precepts, 
with  reverence,  and  with  a  sincerity  of  heart,  void  of  all  hypocrisy  or 
ostentation  ;  for  know  that  he  is  omnipotent  as  he  is  true.  Have  a 
care  even  of  your  most  private  actions  and  thoughts ;  for  God  always 
sees  you,  and  against  you  your  conscience  is  always  ready  to  bear 
witness.  Prudence,  as  well  as  nature  dictates,  that  while  you  do  all 
the  good  in  your  power  to  all  persons  whatever,  you  should  pay  the 
same  honour  to  your  parents  which  you  expect  your  children  should 
pay  to  you ;  and  prefer  your  relations  before  strangers  in  the  exercise 
of  your  good  offices.  Nevertheless,  where  you  cannot  be  beneficial 
be  not  ruinous  to  any  one.  Words  signify  actions  and  thoughts ; 
there  must  be  no  impurity  in  either.  Be  careful  of  childish  or  im- 
potent affections ;  but  follow  the  dictates  of  your  reason,  and  you  are 
safe.  Be  still  assiduous  to  learn,  as  long  as  anything  is  left  unknown 
to  you  ;  and  value  wisdom  before  money.  The  human  mind  requires 
cultivation  as  do  the  plants  of  the  field;  the  improvement  of  our 
reason  assimilates  us  to  angels;  the  neglect  of  it  changes  us  into  beasts. 


10  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

Wisdom  and  virtue  are  the  only  permanent  and  inviolable  good  ;  but 
the  study  of  these,  without  the  practice,  is  nothing.  Think  not,  how- 
ever, that  asperity  of  aspect  necessarily  designates  wisdom ;  for  wisdom 
makes  us  serious,  but  not  severe.  It  is  one  degree  of  virtue  not  to  be 
vicious.  Keep  thy  faith  with  all  men ;  and  avoid  a  lie  to  man,  for 
that  is  an  offence  to  God.  Measure  your  words:  for  great  talkers 
have  no  respect  for  either  honesty  or  truth.  Frequent  the  society  of 
good  men,  for  the  sake  of  their  manners,  as  well  as  their  virtues.  Be 
careful  of  the  worldly  maxim  that  there  is  sometimes  good  in  evil ;  for 
profitable  knavery  and  starving  honesty  is  a  mistake ;  virtue  and 
justice  are  ever  eventually  productive  of  good  and  profit.  Admit  not 
that  restless  passion,  curiosity  for  the  affairs  of  others,  but  attend  to 
your  own  business.  Speak  ill  of  no  one ;  and  no  more  indulge  in  the 
hearing  of  calumnies  than  be  the  instrument  of  reporting  them  ;  for 
those  who  love  the  one,  commonly  practise  the  other.  Intend  honestly, 
and  leave  the  event  to  God.  Despair  not  in  adversity,  and  exult  not 
in  prosperity,  for  everything  is  changeable.  There  are  three  things 
of  which  you  will  never  repent — being  early  and  industrious  at  your 
business ;  learning  good  things ;  and  obliging  good  men.  Remember 
that  is  done  best  which  is  done  in  season ;  watch  therefore  for  oppor- 
tunities of  doing  good.  Love  and  honour  kings,  princes,  and  magis- 
trates ;  for  they  who  punish  the  guilty  and  protect  the  innocent  form 
the  band  which  holds  society  together."  Such  are  the  lessons  of 
morality  and  wisdom  which  are  attributed  to  JEsop  in  his  adopted 
character  as  a  parent ;  but  the  object  of  his  anxious  cares  appears  to 
have  ill  requited  them  :  his  life  was  a  scene  of  rebellion  and  debauchery, 
although  he  is  said  to  have  been  at  last  a  penitent,  and  to  have  died 
in  all  the  bitterness  of  remorse  for  his  ingratitude  to  jEsop. 

In  well -earned  prosperity,  a  favourite  with  the  monarch,  and  loved 

and  respected  by  his  private  connexions,  JEsop  now  appears  to  have 

passed  many  years  at  Babylon ;  and  when  he  at  last  obtained  a  forced 

Last  journey  permission  to  revisit  Greece,  it  was  only  on  the  express  condition  of 

to  Greece.      an  earj^  retum  to  ^^  cjtv>     ^s  faQ  agajn  passed  through  the  various 

cities  of  the  peninsula,  he  resumed  his  former  habit  of  delivering  his 
sentiments  by  way  of  fable,  until  he  is  said  to  have  been  barbarously 
assassinated  by  the  inhabitants  of  Delphi. 

The  object  of  the  Phrygian  sage  in  visiting  this  city  in  his  last 
journey  is  related  differently  by  different  historians.  Some  have 
stated,  that,  satisfied  with  his  travels,  he  arrived  at  length  at  the 
court  of  his  first  patron  and  protector,  Croesus,  intending  to  make 
Lydia  his  future  home  ;  and  that  when  resettled  there,  and  under  the 
accustomed  favour  of  the  king,  he  was  deputed  by  him  to  consult  the 
oracle  at  Delphi  on  some  important  occasion,  a  circumstance  according 
with  the  well-known  fact  of  the  unusual  partiality  and  liberality  of 
Croesus  to  this  famous  oracle.  Others  report,  that  his  own  curiosity 
and  thirst  for  general  knowledge  led  our  fabulist  thither,  and  a  desire 
to  consult  the  oracle  on  some  personal  affairs.  But,  whatever  were 


JESOP.  11 

his  objects,  his  disappointment  at  the  barbarous  manners  of  the  people, 
and  at  the  oracle  itself ;  his  consequent  sarcasms,  and  his  death,  are 
uniformly  related.  On  his  arrival  at  Delphi,  then  a  place  held  sacred 
throughout  Greece,  he  found  the  inhabitants,  whom  he  had  expected 
to  see  deserving  of  the  reputation  they  had  acquired  for  piety,  wisdom, 
and  learning,  deeply  immersed  in  pride,  avarice,  and  barbarism. 
Unfortunately  for  himself,  he  did  not  conceal  his  sentiments  concern- 
ing them,  but  allowed  his  contempt  and  aversion  to  become  publicly 
apparent,  although  clothed  in  his  usual  allegory.  "  I  find,"  said  he, 
"  the  curiosity  that  brought  me  hither  to  be  exactly  similar  to  the 
expectation  of  those  who,  whilst  standing  on  the  shore,  see  something 
at  a  distance  which  the  wind  and  the  waves  are  floating  towards  them  ; 
they  imagine  it  to  be  of  considerable  bulk  or  value;  but  upon  its 
approaching  nearer,  they  discover  it  at  last  to  be  nothing  more  than  a 
heap  of  floating  sticks,  weeds,  and  rubbish."  This  censure,  it  should 
seem,  was  levelled  not  at  the  lower  class  of  the  Delphian  people  only, 
but  likewise  at  the  magistracy,  and  perhaps  at  the  juggles  of  the 
famous  oracle  itself;  the  cheats  and  extortions  attendant  upon  which 
cannot  be  supposed  altogether  to  have  escaped  the  penetrating  intellect 
of  jEsop. 

Jealous  of  their  reputation,  and  well  knowing  the  credit  with  which 
the  fabulist  was  received  by  princes  and  states  of  the  first  importance, 
and  those  by  whom  the  Delphian  oracle  was,  until  then,  highly 
reverenced,  the  magistracy  of  the  city,  and  perhaps  the  priests  of  the 
temple,  resolved  to  silence  the  censures  of  JEsop  by  depriving  him  of 
life.  It  was  necessary,  however,  that  he  should  appear  to  the  public 
eye  to  deserve  the  ignominious  death  they  meant  to  inflict  on  him,  and 
the  philosophic  traveller  had  already  quitted  Delphi  to  depart,  when 
he  was  seized  only  a  few  miles  from  the  town,  on  a  charge  of  sacrilege. 
jEsop  at  first  ridiculed  the  accusation ;  but  the  conspirators  had  laid 
their  plot  too  sure.  They  had  secreted  amongst  his  baggage,  for  no 
benevolent  design,  a  golden  cup  which  belonged  to  the  temple,  and 
there,  on  inspection,  it  was  found.  This  apparent  proof  of  ^Esop's 
guilt  was  not  exhibited  to  the  people  in  vain:  they  were  much 
enraged ;  and  the  court  at  which  he  was  afterwards  regularly  tried, 
condemned  him  to  be  thrown  headlong  from  a  rock.  -ZEsop,  to  whom 
kings,  states,  and  cities  of  the  greatest  celebrity  had  listened  with 
admiration,  could  now  with  considerable  difficulty  obtain  a  hearing  for 
the  few  words  in  which  he  endeavoured  to  expose  the  artifice  under 
which  his  character  was  for  the  first  time  impeached.  But  in  vain  : 
he  was  hurried  to  execution.  On  the  road,  however,  he  is  said  to 
have  succeeded  in  diverting  their  attention  for  awhile  from  its  imme- 
diate object;  and,  evading  those  who  held  him,  to  have  escaped  to  a 
neighbouring  altar.  From  hence,  however,  he  was  dragged,  with  the 
remark,  that  those  who  robbed  their  sanctuaries  were  not  entitled  to 
protection  from  them ;  when  he  made  another  and  final  attempt  to 
move  their  compassion  or  awaken  their  justice,  in  the  fable  of  the 


12  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

Eagle,  the  Hare,  and  the  Beetle ;  and  to  prove  to  them  that  injustice 
always  meets  with  its  due  punishment,  though  practised  by  the  strong 
upon  the  weakest  of  creatures.  "  Nor  are  you,"  continued  the  un- 
happy sage,  "to  flatter  yourselves  that  the  profaners  of  the  holy 
altars,  and  the  oppressors  of  the  guiltless,  can  ever  ultimately  avoid 
the  vengeance  of  the  gods."  All  this  served  but  the  more  to  enrage 
his  already  exasperated  judges,  and  the  furious  and  unthinking  multi- 
tude. They  dragged  him  forward  to  the  fatal  spot,  and  the  last  words 
he  uttered  were  characteristic  of  his  history.  He  likened  his  miserable 
lot  to  that  of  an  old  man  who  had  fallen  into  a  pit,  together  with  some 
asses  :  both  he  and  the  beasts  having  been  beaten  out  of  their  road  by 
the  violence  of  a  tempest,  the  animals,  when  they  found  themselves 
precipitated  into  this  cavern,  and  confined  to  its  narrow  boundaries, 
began  to  kick  the  aged  traveller,  and  gave  him  his  death- wounds. 
"  Unhappy  wretch  that  I  am,"  exclaimed  ^Esop,  in  the  person  of  this 
old  man,  "  since  die  I  must,  it  is  doubly  hard  to  die  by  means  of,  and 
surrounded  by,  these  asses,  the  most  senseless  of  beasts !  To  suffer 
death  unjustly  were  enough  calamitous,  but  for  it  to  be  inflicted  by  the 
hands  of  a  barbarous  and  ignorant  people,  alike  devoid  of  humanity, 
honour,  hospitality,  or  justice; — ye  gods,  permit  not  my  innocent 
death  to  pass  unavenged!"  In  the  midst  of  this  harangue,  the  im- 
patient multitude  precipitated  him  from  the  rock,  and  he  fell  lifeless 
His  death,  at  its  base.  Thus  perished,  as  he  had  lived,  the  sage  and  celebrated 

,  mixing  wisdom  with  wit,  entertainment  with  instruction. 
The  veneration  with  which  the  character  of  JEsop  has  been  generally 
regarded  by  the  historians  of  his  time,  cannot,  perhaps,  be  more  strongly 
exemplified  than  in  their  ascribing  a  dreadful  plague,  with  which  the 
Delphians  were  shortly  afterwards  visited,  to  the  outrage  thus  com- 
mitted on  the  hospitality  peculiarly  due  to  great  men,  and  their  impiety 
to  the  gods.  This  the  Pythoness  herself  declared  to  be  but  justice 
upon  them  for  their  crime,  and  directed  a  public  atonement  to  be  made 
for  it.  Accordingly  we  find  that  this  clamorous  arid  capricious  people, 
soon  after  his  death,  erected  a  pyramid  to  the  memory  of  ^Esop.  It 
was  also  a  tradition  of  the  best  times  of  Greece,  that  the  conspirators 
by  whose  wicked  contrivance  he  fell,  so  severely  suffered  the  stings  of 
conscience,  that  they  slew  themselves  in  remorse ; — a  circumstance 
which  is  reported  to  have  given  pleasure  to  the  more  civilized  nations 
of  the  Greeks  around.  Socrates  is  said  to  have  amused  and  consoled 
himself,  in  several  of  the  serious  hours  he  spent  in  prison,  shortly 
before  he  suffered,  by  rendering  several  of  the  compositions  of 
into  familiar  verse. 


SOCRATES. 


BY 


CHARLES  JAMES  BLOMFIELD,  D.D., 


BISHOP  OF  LONDON. 


REPRINTED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  EDITION. 


SOCEATES.  ' 

FROM  B.  C.  469  TO  B.  C.  399. 

THE  biography  of  this  remarkable  person,  who  occupies  so  conspicuous 
a  station  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind,  will  be  conveniently  in- 
troduced by  a  short  sketch  of  the  previous  history  of  philosophy  in 
Greece. 

The  earliest  philosophy  of  the  Greeks,  which  was  derived  to  them  Philosophy 
through  Ionia,  from  Asia,  consisted  in  devising  both  names  and  p^J early 
attributes  for  the  various  deities,  who  were  supposed  to  preside  over 
the  different  departments  of  the  universe ;  and  in  conveying  to  a 
simple  people  a  system  of  theology  and  ethics  in  allegorical  poems. 
Many  fragments  of  these  were  incorporated  into  the  works  of  Homer 
and  Hesiod ;  and  some  are  to  be  found  in  the  more  ancient  oracular 
verses  which  are  quoted  by  the  Greek  historians.  The  '  Theogonia '  of 
Hesiod  was  no  doubt  taken,  as  to  its  principal  features,  from  the  cos- 
mogony of  some  more  ancient  philosophical  poet ;  and  it  is  to  be  re- 
marked, that  this  philosophy,  such  as  it  was,  and  from  whatever 
source  derived,  was  coeval  with  the  language  in  which  it  was  taught ; 
for  the  names  of  the  deities  are  not  borrowed  from  the  oriental  mytho- 
logy, which  probably  supplied  many  of  the  deities  themselves ;  but 
are  Greek  names,  significant  of  the  attributes  which  they  were  intended 
to  personify.  Thus,  void  space  is  termed  Xaoe,  from  the  verb  Xaw, 
'  to  yawn,'  Ai0//p,  '  the  sky,'  is  from  a't'Ow,  'to  be  bright.' 

Certain  of  these  poets  or  philosophers,  for  the  professions  were  not 
then  distinct,  were  employed  professionally  by  some  of  the  Grecian 
states,  to  compose  useful  mythological  poems  and  hymns,  appropriate 
to  the  worship  of  various  deities:  in  particular  we  may  mention 
Pamphus,  and  Orpheus,  an  imitation  of  whose  hymns  was  in  after 
ages  forged  by  some  falsary.1 

These  were  the  masters  of  wisdom  to  the  earliest  Greeks,  who  for 
many  ages  had  no  philosophical  writings  in  prose.  Theognis  con- 
signed his  moral  and  political  precepts  to  elegiac  verse ;  and  the  same 
kind  of  composition  afforded  even  to  Solon  a  vehicle  for  instruction  of 
the  most  important  kind  to  his  fellow-citizens.  It  was  not  till  history 

1  It  is  amusing  to  see  so  grave  a  writer  as  Brucker  seriously  deducing  a  summary 
of  the  Orphic  philosophy  from  these  spurious  fragments,  many  of  which  are  of  a 
date  but  little,  if  at  all,  anterior  to  the  Christian  era.  An  attempt  was  made  in  the 
fifth  century  before  Christ  to  revive  what  was  pretended  to  be  the  philosophy  of 
Orpheus;  and  certain  mystagogues  seem  to  have  made  the  initiation  of  votaries  a 
gainful  trade.  But  it  appears,  from  some  expressions  iu  Euripides,  that  the  credit 
of  this  sect  was,  even  in  his  time,  at  a  very  low  ebb. 


16  GEEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

had  descended  from  the  car  of  poetry,  that  didactic  philosophy  sub- 
mitted to  deliver  her  doctrines  in  the  sober  language  of  common  life ; 
and  it  is  very  uncertain  to  what  extent  those  philosophers,  who  first 
bore  the  name,  committed  the  results  of  their  speculations  to  writing. 
The  verses  of  Orpheus,  and  Linus,  and  Musaeus,  were  undoubtedly 
preserved  by  oral  tradition.  The  persons  who  are  commonly  known 
The  Wise  by  the  name  of  the  Seven  Wise  Men  of  Greece,  seem,  with  the  ex- 
ception  of  Thales,  to  have  been  indebted  for  that  honourable  distinction, 
either  to  their  political  sagacity,  or  to  their  talent  of  expressing,  with 
an  oracular  brevity,  the  most  important  maxims  of  morality.  They 
are  known  to  us  chiefly  by  a  few  of  their  sayings ;  and  even  of  these 
the  individual  property  is  not  very  clearly  ascertained.  It  may  per- 
haps be  contended,  that  a  wise  legislator  is  the  greatest  of  all  practical 
philosophers  :  and  on  this  account  Solon  occupies  the  very  highest 
station  amongst  those  illustrious  men,  who  have  applied  their  wisdom 
and  experience  to  the  great  ends  of  promoting  public  virtue  and 
happiness.  But,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  term,  Thales  is  the 
only  one  of  the  seven  sages,  who  can  be  considered  as  one  of  the  real 
fathers  of  Grecian  philosophy.  And  it  does  not  appear  that  he  left  any 
writings  behind  him.  Even  ^Esop,  the  celebrated  inventor  of  moral 
apologues,  probably  committed  none  of  his  fables  to  writing.  Many 
of  them  were  traditionally  preserved,  and  mentioned  by  later  writers ; 
and  furnished  a  basis  for  various  superstructures,  which  were  after- 
wards raised,  and  dignified  with  his  name. 

Since  neither  Thales,  nor  any  of  the  earlier  teachers  of  wisdom  in 
Greece,  left  any  works  to  posterity,  it  is  obviously  very  difficult  to 
form  anything  like  an  accurate  notion  of  the  state  of  philosophy  in 
Greece  in  the  period  during  which  they  flourished.  As  from  the 
time  of  Thales  there  was  a  continued  succession  of  philosophers,  it 
would  of  course  happen  in  after  times,  that  what  the  scholar  had  said 
was  attributed  to  the  master  ;  sometimes  perhaps  even  by  the  scholar 
himself,  when  he  was  desirous  of  conciliating  respect  to  his  dogmas, 
by  stamping  them  with  the  authority  of  a  greater  name  than  his  own. 
The  CLVTOQ  etya  of  the  Greek  philosophical  schools,  especially  of  the 
Pythagorean,  was  a  compendious  form  of  citation,  which  gave  to  the 
founder  of  a  sect  the  credit  of  many  opinions  of  which  he  had  never 
dreamed. 

But  for  the  whole  account  of  the  earlier  philosophers,  and  for  any 
knowledge  whatever  of  their  doctrines,  we  are  of  course  obliged  to 
trust  to  writers  of  a  more  recent  date,  who  were  probably  not  very 
careful  to  discriminate  between  the  claims  of  different  individuals,  nor 
to  separate  the  primitive  philosophy  of  their  earliest  teachers  from  the 
refinements  of  a  later  age.  Indeed  the  principal  sources  from  which 
our  knowledge  of  these  subjects  is  derived,  must  be  confessed  to  be 
very  corrupt.  As  far  as  we  can  collect  our  notions  of  the  earlier 
systems  from  the  writings  of  Plato,  we  may  feel  ourselves  tolerably 
secure,  although  it  is  more  than  probable  that  the  outlines  are  occasion- 


SOCRATES.  17 

ally  distorted,  or  the  features  too  strongly  marked,  by  the  brilliant  and 
inventive  genius  of  that  wonderful  man.  Even  upon  the  testimony  of 
Aristotle  we  cannot  depend  with  certainty ;  for  he  was  notorious  for 
his  misrepresentations  of  the  tenets  of  his  predecessors.  It  is  only  in 
the  deficiency  of  more  authentic  sources  of  information,  that  we  can 
trust  ourselves  to  the  accuracy  of  such  a  writer  as  Plutarch ;  and  we 
can  never  rely  with  satisfaction  upon  the  relation  of  Diogenes  Laertius, 
unless  his  accounts  be  either  corroborated  by  less  doubtful  writers,  or 
bear  in  themselves  the  marks  of  consistency  and  credibility.  Amongst 
the  later  authors,  Cicero  is  the  most  trustworthy  source  of  information 
concerning  the  Greek  philosophers;  yet  even  he  lived  at  so  great  a 
distance  of  time  from  the  earlier  masters  of  wisdom,  that  it  is  more 
than  probable,  that  their  doctrines  descended  to  him  much  altered  and 
corrupted,  through  the  channels  of  the  more  modern  philosophy. 

It  is  commonly  said  of  Socrates,  that  he  was  the  first  person  who  t 
brought  down  philosophy  from  the  skies,  and  introduced  her  into  the 
commerce  of  civil  life.  But  although  in  his  time  the  title  of  philoso- 
pher was  almost  entirely  confined  to  those  who  busied  themselves  in 
physical  researches,  or  speculated  upon  abstract  notions ;  yet  at  an 
earlier  period  the  wise  men  of  Greece  (for  the  name  of  philosopher 
was  not  then  invented)  seem  to  have  directed  their  attention  to  the 
laudable  objects  of  improving  the  science  of  legislation  and  govern- 
ment ;  in  pursuit  of  which,  they  travelled  into  the  more  ancient  and 
flourishing  kingdoms  of  Egypt  and  the  East.  It  is  related  by  Hero- 
dotus (1.  29)  that  the  court  of  Croesus  was  visited  by  all  the 
Sophists?,1  at  that  time  living  in  Greece. 

Thales,  however,  appears  to  have  merited  the  appellation  chiefly  by  Thaies,  bom 
his  skill  in  astronomy  and  geometry,  and  by  his  theories  upon  the  B'  °*  640> 
formation  of  the  universe  ;  they  are  the  real  foundations  of  his  fame ; 
for  as  to  his  speculations  upon  the  divine  nature  and  government,  it  is 
extremely  difficult,  from  the  causes  above  mentioned,  to  ascertain  what 
were  really  the  doctrines  of  Thales. 

One  instance  will  serve  to  illustrate  this  difficulty.  We  read  in 
Aristotle  (de  An.  1.  5.)  that  Thales  thought  the  universe  to  be  full  of 
gods.  Diogenes  Laertius  says,  Thales  taught  that  the  universe  was 
animated,  and  full  of  daemons.  But  now  comes  Cicero,  and  tells  us 
that  Thales  admonished  mankind  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  gods  per- 
ceived all  things,  for  that  all  things  were  full  of  them.  Valerius 
Maximus  goes  one  step  farther,  and  asserts  that  Thales,  being  asked 
whether  the  actions  of  men  escaped  the  notice  of  the  gods,  replied, 
Not  even  their  thoughts  ;  "  Nee  cogitata,  inquit.  Ut  non  solum  manus, 
sed  etiam  mentes  puras  habere  velkmus ;  cum  secretis  cogitationibus 

1  2a<p/<r<nk,  '  a  contriver.'  The  Scholiast  on  Homer,  II.  0.  410  (where  it  is  said 
of  a  ship  carpenter,  o;  pa,  TI  •xu.ff'K  E5  si'SJj  <ro<p /»??),  that  the  ancients  called  all 
artizans  <ro<p<<rT«/.  Herodotus  gives  this  appellation  to  the  mythological  philoso- 
phers before  spoken  of,  and  to  Pythagoras.  Thucydides  applies  it  to  the  teachers 
of  rhetoric  and  logic. 

[G.  E.  P.]  C 


18  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

nostris  cceleste  nuinen  adesse  credidissemus."  It  is  obviously  very 
probable  that  Thales  broached  simply  the  absurd  notion,  that  the  uni- 
verse was  filled  with  gods  in  every  part,  by  way  of  accounting  for  the 
various  operations  of  nature;  a^nd  that  the  moral  deductions  were 
afterwards  appended  to  it  by  later  philosophers.  And  what  renders- 
this  still  more  probable  is,  that  the  answer  of  Thales,  recorded  by 
Valerius  Maximus,  is  by  Plutarch  attributed  to  Pittacus.  We  may 
remark  by  the  way,  that  a  strong  instance  of  the  uncertainty,  under 
which  we  labour  generally,  as  to  the  tenets  of  the  earlier  philosophers, 
is  the  confusion  which  prevails,  as  to  the  real  authors  of  many  sayings 
recorded  by  ancient  authors.  For  example,  the  celebrated  apophthegm, 
yvwdt  (Ttavrov,  is  by  some  attributed  to  Chilon  of  Lacedsemon,  by 
others  to  Thales,  and  by  some  to  Apollo  himself.  M.r}Sev  ayav  is 
assigned  by  Aristotle  to  Chilon,  but  by  many  to  Pittacus.  This  last- 
mentioned  philosopher  is  also  recorded  to  have  said  to  a  person,  who 
inquired  of  him  whether  he  had  better  marry  a  rich  wife,  or  one  suited 
to  his  own  condition,  T?)v  Kara  cravrov  t\a;  which  reply  is  by  others 
attributed  to  Solon,  and  by  some  to  Chilon.  Tertullian  relates,  that 
Thales,  when  asked  by  Croesus  what  he  thought  of  the  gods,  after 
much  deliberation  could  return  no  answer.  Now  older  and  more 
trustworthy  authors  relate  the  same  story  of  Simonides.  From  these, 
and  from  many  similar  instances  which  might  be  adduced,  appears 
the  difficulty  of  ascertaining  and  marking  out  the  precise  property, 
which  belongs  to  each  of  the  ancient  philosophers,  in  the  wide  range 
of  physical  and  moral  speculation,  which  is  spread  through  the  writings 
of  many  ages. 

His  leading  It  is,  however,  agreed  upon  all  hands,  that  the  leading  doctrine  of 
doctrine.  Thales  was  this,  that  water  was  the  origin  of  all  things  ;  which  some 
persons  have  considered  to  refer  to  the  reappearance  of  all  things  from 
the  deluge.  Whether  he  taught  that  water  was  the  material,  and  that 
the  Deity  formed  the  universe  out  of  it,  seems  to  admit  of  doubt.  It 
is  certain  that  he  was  not  an  atheist,  and  that  he  believed  in  the  exist- 
ence of  an  incorporeal  Deity ;  but  as  it  is  justly  observed  by  Bayle 
(art.  Thales),  the  opinions  of  the  heathen  philosophers  were  so  little 
connected,  that  it  did  not  follow  as  a  necessary  consequence,  from  the 
hypothesis  of  the  existence  of  a  God,  that  he  was  the  creator  of  the 
universe ;  but  many  of  them  believed  the  gods  to  be  the  governors  of 
the  world,  having  been  themselves  produced  from  chaos. 

It  is  far  from  improbable,  that  both. Thales  and  Pythagoras  may 
have  obtained  a  great  part  of  their  mathematical  knowledge,  and  some 
of  their  notions  respecting  the  Deity  and  his  operations,  from  the  Chal- 
dsean  philosophers.  It  is  going  too  far  to  suppose,  as  some  have  done, 
that  they  were  acquainted  with  the  Mosaic  writings ;  but  they  were 
probably  not  ignorant  of  that  traditional  knowledge,  which  had 
descended  from  the  earliest  ages  of  the  world,  and  was  preserved 
amongst  the  inhabitants  of  Egypt,  Phoenicia,  and  Assyria.  It  is 
observed  by  Diodorus  Siculus  (who  perhaps  had  not  much  better 


SOCRATES.  ]  9 

means  of  knowing  the  fact  than  we  have),  that  Lycurgus  and  Solon, 
as  well  as  the  poets  Orpheus,  Musaeus,  Melampus,  and  Homer,  and 
the  philosophers,  Pythagoras  and  others,  had  drawn  most  of  their 
knowledge  from  Egypt.  And  Diogenes,  asserts,  upon  the  authority, 
as  he  says,  of  Hecata?us  and  Aristagoras,  that  the  Egyptians  had 
taught,  from  the  remotest  antiquity,  that  the  world  had  a  beginning ; 
that  the  earth  was  spherical,  and  the  stars  of  the  nature  of  fire ;  and 
that  the  soul  was  immortal. 

Whoever  will  take  the  trouble  of  considering  the  passages  which 
Bp.  Stillingfleet  has  collected  in  his  '  Origines  Sacra?,'  b.  iii.  c.  3,  will 
readily  recognise,  in  the  physics  of  Thales,  some  traces  of  the  Mosaic 
cosmogony.  The  water,  which  according  to  Thales  was  the  primitive 
form  of  matter,  corresponds  to  the  chaotic  mass  which  "  was  without 
form  and  void." 

To  return  to  the  theology  of  Thales :  amidst  the  conflicting  ac- 
counts which  later  writers  have  given  of  his  opinions  as  to  the  forma- 
tion of  the  world,  it  seems  not  unreasonable  to  conclude  that  he 
delivered  no  express  dogma  on  the  subject,  but  tacitly  supposed  the 
existence  of  a  God: 

With  regard  to  his  notions  on  the  subject  of  natural  history,  we 
may  remark,  that  he  held  the  moon  to  be  a  solid  body,  like  the  earth, 
and  to  receive  its  light  from  the  sun  ;  that  the  earth  is  spherical,  in 
the  centre  of  the  universe  ;  that  eclipses  of  the  sun  are  caused  by  the 
intervention  of  the  moon  between  the  sun  and  the  earth.  His  know- 
ledge of  astronomy  was  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  predict  eclipses  of 
the  sun ;  this  we  know,  upon  the  testimony  of  Herodotus ;  but  with 
what  degree  of  precision,  whether  to  the  assigning  of  the  exact  hour, 
we  cannot  determine.1  Proclus  tells  us,  and  most  probably  his  asser- 
tion is  true,  that  Thales  derived  his  mathematical  knowledge  from 
Egypt ;  and  that  amongst  other  geometrical  problems  he  discovered 
the  following,  which  were  afterwards  inserted  in  the  *  Elements  of 
Euclid:'  1.  That  a  circle  is  bisected  by  its  diameter.  2.  That  the 
angles  at  the  base  of  an  isosceles  triangle  are  equal  to  each  other. 
3.  That  two  straight  lines  intersecting  one  another  make  the  vertical 
angles,  at  the  point  of  intersection,  equal.  Thales  also  introduced 
into  Greece  an  improved  distribution  of  the  year,  which  he  divided 
into  365  days. 

ANAXIMANDER,  who  taught  publicly  the  opinions  which  Thales  Anaximan- 
had  broached  in  private,  was  born  about  the  42nd  Olympiad.     He  Jio  B.°C? 
has  been   frequently  confounded  with  Anaximenes,  and  sometimes 
with  Anaxagoras.     He  was  the  first  person  that  constructed  a  geogra- 

1  It  is  impossible  to  reconcile  this  fact  with  the  account  which  is  given  of  the 
notions  of  Anaximander,  that  eclipses  were  caused  by  the  stopping  up  of  the  orifices 
through  which  the  fire  of  the  sun  and  moon  exhaled.  If  Thales  did  really  predict 
an  eclipse,  he  must  either  have  known  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic,  and  possessed  a 
far  more  accurate  knowledge  of  astronomy  than  his  scholar,  or  he  must  have 
obtained  some  information  of  an  expected  eclipse  from  the  Egyptian  or  Babylonian 
astronomers,  which  perhaps  is  not  an  improbable  conjecture. 

c2 


20  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

phical  map.  We  find  Aristagoras,  not  many  years  afterwards,  in 
possession  of  a  map  of  the  world,  engraven  on  brass.  (Herod,  v.  49.) 
He  is  said  to  have  invented  the  gnomon,  not  the  sun-dial  used  to  dis- 
tinguish the  hours  of  the  day,  but  an  instrument  for  determining  the 
times  of  the  equinoxes  and  the  meridian  line.  It  seems  doubtful 
whether  the  division  of  the  day  into  hours  was  known  in  Greece  till 
two  centuries  after  the  time  of  Anaximander.  (See  Ernesti  '  Opusc. 
Philol.'  p.  23.) 

His  Anaximander  held  that  the  origin  and  element  of  all  things  was  TO 

trmes.  infinity.     What  this  aireipov  was  he  did  not  determine  ; 


whether  anything  material,  or  an  infinite  intelligence  :  later  philo- 
sophers explained  it  of  the  former  ;  and  in  consequence  Anaximander 
has  been  classed  amongst  the  atheists.  According  to  Cudworth, 
Thales  was  a  theist;  but  Anaximander,  Anaximenes,  Hippo,  and 
others,  were  atheistical,  who  held  that  matter  devoid  of  life  and 
understanding  was  the  first  principle.  But,  in  point  of  fact,  so  little 
is  really  known  of  the  doctrines  of  these  philosophers,  that  it  is  not 
easy  to  say  whether  they  were  believers  in  the  existence  of  a  God  or 
not.  One  thing  should  be  remembered,  that  many  of  them,  in  all 
likelihood,  may  have  broached  opinions  concerning  the  formation  of 
the  world  which  ultimately  conducted  their  followers  to  atheism, 
without  being  sensible  at  the  time  of  their  tendency. 

Anaximenes.  The  successor  of  Anaximander  was  ANAXIMENES,  who  taught  that 
the  aTretpov  of  his  master  was  air  ;  which  was  in  some  degree  recur- 
ring to  the  mythology  of  the  poets,  who  identified  the  supreme  Deity 
with  J^ther,  the  atmosphere.  Anaximenes,  however,  maintained 
that  the  gods  had  their  origin  from  this  eternal  and  infinite  air.  We 
may  here  remark,  that  these  philosophers,  when  they  spoke  of  the 
existence  of  gods,  or  rather  deities,  3rujuoj'£c,  did  not  refer  to  them  as 
the  creators  or  original  causes  of  things,  but  merely  as  a  kind  of 
beings  greatly  superior  to  man,  arid  possessing  authority  over  them. 
So  that  a  belief  in  their  existence  was  perfectly  compatible  with  a  real 
and  philosophical  atheism.  The  grand  doctrine  of  atheism  is  this  : 
that  the  substance  of  matter,  or  extended  body,  is  the  only  real 
entity,  and  therefore  the  only  unmade  thing,  which  is  neither  gene- 
The  eternity  rable  nor  to  be  created,  but  self-existent  from  all  eternity.  But  it 
of  matter.  ^QQS  no^  f0\\ow  fa^  everv  philosopher  who  asserted  the  eternity  of 
matter  thereby  intended  to  deny  the  eternity  of  God.  On  the  con- 
trary, some  appear  to  have  thought  that  an  eternal  cause  must  have 
had  an  eternal  effect  ;  as,  for  instance,  Aristotle,  who  maintained  the 
eternal  existence  of  the  world,  says,  "If  there  were  nothing  but 
matter  in  the  world,  there  would  be  no  original  cause,  but  an  infinite 
succession  of  causes."  Others,  again,  entertain  the  contradictory 
hypothesis  that  matter  was  eternal  and  self-existent,  and  that  the 
Deity  was  coexistent  with  it;  in  short,  that  the  artificer  of  the 
universe  and  his  materials  were  both  self-existent.  So  that  it  remains 
very  doubtful  whether  the  philosophers  of  the  Ionic  school  did  really 


SOCRATES.  21 

intend  to  exclude  a  supreme  intelligence  from  their  theories  of  the 
formation  of  the  universe.  "  It  plainly  appears,"  says  Dr.  S.  Clarke, 
"how  little  reason  modern  atheists  have  to  boast  either  of  the  autho- 
rity or  reasons  of  those  ancient  philosophers  who  held  the  eternity  of 
the  world.  For  since  these  men  neither  proved,  nor  attempted  to 
prove,  that  the  material  world  was  original  to  itself,  independent,  or 
self-existent ;  but  only  that  it  was  an  eternal  effect  of  an  eternal  cause, 
which  is  God  ;  it  is  evident  that  this  their  opinion,  even  supposing  it 
could  by  no  means  be  refuted,  could  afford  no  manner  of  advantage  to 
the  cause  of  atheists  in  our  days ;  who,  excluding  supreme  mind  and 
intelligence  out  of  the  universe,  would  make  mere  matter  and  necessity 
the  original  and  eternal  cause  of  all  things." 

The  great  difference  between  the  theists  and  atheists  before  the  Ancient 
time  of  Aristotle  was,  that  the  former  affirmed  the  world  to  have  been 
made  by  God;   the  latter,   by  the  fortuitous  motion  of  eternally- 
existent  matter ;  and  this  theory  was  not  the  doctrine  of  the  Ionic  school. 

The  atomic  theory  is  attributed  by  Plato  to  Protagoras;  but  its  Atomic 
real  authors  (as  applied  to  the  purposes  of  atheism)  were  Leucippus  J^eory' 
and  Democritus,  who  lived  about  460  B.C.    They  made  the  two  great  and^Denio- 
principles  of  nature  to  be  the  Plenum  and  the  Vacuum,  the  one  ov,  the  critus- 
other  p,fi  ov.    They  taught  that  everything  was  made  by  the  fortuitous 
concourse  of  atoms,  or  individual  corpuscles,  some  of  which  were 
round,  some  angular,  some  curved  and  hooked.     These  were  called 
by   Xenocrates  peyidr)    acWpcTra,    "  indivisible  magnitudes  ;"    by 
Pythagoras,  jjiovadeQ, '"  units."     Fire  and  the  soul,  according  to  these 
philosophers,  consist  of  spherical  corpuscles,  which  Democritus  com- 
pared to  the  motes  in  the  sunbeam.     According  to  this  hypothesis, 
all  things  are  materially  and  mechanically  necessary;  but  the  older 
atomists  (t.  e.  those  who  believed  in  the  formation  of  the* world  from 
atoms,  but  did  not  exclude  spiritual  essence,  or  rather  incorporeal 
substance)  were  generally  theists;  as,  for  instance,  Pythagoras  and 
Parmenides. 

A  determined  opponent  of  Democritus  was  ANAXAGORAS,  the  Anaxagoras, 
successor  of  Anaximines,  and  the  most  remarkable  of  the  Ionic  school,  born500B-c- 
whose  philosophy  is  a  subject  of  more  immediate  interest  to  us,  inas- 
much as  he  took  up  his  abode  in  Athens,  and  became  the  instructor 
of  Pericles  and  Euripides,  and  the  source  from  which  Socrates  derived 
his  knowledge  of  natural  philosophy.  Anaxagoras  discovered  that 
there  were  inequalities  in  the  moon's  surface  ;  and  asserted  that  the  sun 
was  a  mass  of  burning  matter.  He  maintained  that  snow  was  black ; 
and  that  the  eyes  were  not  capable  of  discovering  the  true  colours  of 
objects.  Of  the  reasons  which  induced  him  to  maintain  these 
opinions,  the  ancient  writers  give  but  an  indifferent  account.  It 
would  appear  that  Anaxagoras  had  adopted  a  leading  notion  of  the 
old  materialists,  which  has  been  revived  by  modern  philosophers,  that 
the  qualities  of  bodies  which  strike  our  senses  have  no  real  existence 
without  us,  but  are  images  and  appearances  within  us.  With  regard 


22 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


Taught  a 
Divine 
Creator  of 
the  World. 


His  doctrine 
of  similar 


to  the  opinions  of  Anaxagoras,  we  fortunately  possess  some  unexcep- 
tionable documents  in  the  poetry  of  his  disciple  Euripides,  who,  it  is 
well  known,  was  called  the  philosopher  of  the  stage,  and  who  intro- 
duced into  many  of  his  dramas  the  leading  tenets  of  his  master, 
particularly  into  his  *  Chrysippus.' 

The  founder  of  the  Ionic  school  had  taught  that  the  Deity  was  the 
mind  of  the  universe  ;  a  notion  very  nearly,  if  not  exactly,  coinciding 
with  that  of  the  Hylozoick  philosophers,  who  said  that  matter  was 
endowed  with  a  kind  of  reason.  But  Anaxagoras  was  the  first  who 
taught  in  express  terms  a  Oeog  Srjpiovpyoc,  a  divine  creator  of  the 
world.  According  to  him,  all  things  were  a  shapeless  and  inert  mass, 
which  the  divine  intelligence  endued  with  motion,  form,  and  beauty. 
Euripides  calls  the  Deity  avrotyvriQ,  "  self-  existent,"  and  says  that  he 
"  interwove  nature  with  the  ethereal  circle  or  orb."  In  other 
passages  he  represents  the  Anaxagorean  doctrine  of  the  divine  mind 
imforming  matter  by  the  poetical  union  of  JEther  with  the  Earth  :  — 


K«J  yrtv 
Tovrov  vo 


s^ovf  t/yoeti";  Iv  ee,yita.Xcti;  ] 
Z5jy«,  ranS*  wyov  faov. 


See'st  thou  on  high  this  vast  expanse  of  air, 
Encircling  in  its  liquid  arms  the  earth  ? 
This,  this  is  Jove,  revere  the  present  God  ! 

Hence  we  find,  in  the  surviving  plays  of  Euripides,  frequent  invo- 
cations to  Jove  and  the  earth.  This  part  of  the  poetical  mythology 
of  the  Greek  drama  is  fully  illustrated  by  Valc£enaer  in  his  '  Diatribe 
on  the  Fragments  of  Euripides,'  who  conjectures  that  Anaxagoras 
derived  his  notion  of  the  two  principles  of  animal  life  from  Egypt,  the 
great  nursery  of  Greek  philosophy;  since  Procopius  (a  very  late 
writer,  it  must  be  confessed)  mentions  Anaxagoras  of  Clazomene  as 
one  of  those  who  travelled  into  Egypt  for  the  sake  of  acquiring  a  more 
exact  knowledge  of  physics  and  theology. 

Another  dogma  of  Anaxagoras  was,  that  nature  consisted  in  the 
repeated  union  and  dissolution  of  the  same  particles  ;  agreeably  to 
what  Lucretius  says  (ii.  1001)  :  — 

Nee  sic  interimit  mors  res,  ut  materiai 
Corpora  conficiat,  sed  coetum  dissupat  ollis. 

And  Ovid  — 

Nee  perit  in  tnnto  quicquam  (mihi  credite)  mundo; 
Sed  variat,  faciemque  novat. 

It  was  upon  the  strength  of  this  doctrine  that  Socrates  afterwards 
asserted  that  the  souls  of  men,  when  freed  from  their  temporary  union 
with  the  body,  returned  to  their  native  heaven. 

The  most  curious  and  abstruse  of  his  notions  was  that  of  the 
ojuoiojutpeicu,  or  similar  particles.  He  maintained  that  every  body  con- 
sisted of  particles  similar  to  itself;  for  instance,  gold  consists  of  atoms 
of  gold;  a  bone,  of  minute  bones,  and  so  on.  (This  doctrine  is 


SOCRATES.  23 

detailed  and  refuted  by  Lucretius,  i.  830.)  He  considered  that 
everything  was  of  a  mixed  nature  except  mind,  which  animated  and 
moved  the  universe.  Anaxagoras  himself  was  called  Noi/c,  "  Mind," 
probably  from  this  dogma.  It  appears,  however,  that  he  supposed 
certain  revolutions  (frivoi)  of  the  world,  or  of  parts  of  the  universe, 
which  were  quite  independent  of  this  mind.  Moreover,  he  attributed 
mind  to  animals  of  every  kind,  which  he  designated  by  the  same 
appellation  as  that  which  he  applied  to  the  supreme  intelligence. 

It  being  agreed  on  all  hands  that  Anaxagoras  supposed  the  chaotic 
mass  of  particles  to  have  been  reduced  into  order  by  the  divine  intelli- 
gence, it  may  appear  strange  that  Irena?iis  should  have  branded 
him  with  the  imputation  of  atheism.  The  following  passage  of  that 
father  is  quoted  by  Bayle  (art.  Anaxagoras,  p.  212)  :  "Anaxa- 
goras autem,  qui  et  Atheus  cognominatus  est,  dogmatizavit  facta 
animalia  decidentibus  e  ccelo  in  terram  seminibus,  quod  et  hi  ipsi  in 
matris  suag  transtulerunt  semina,  etesse  hoc  semen  seipsos  statim  con- 
fitentes  apud  eos  qui  sensum  habent,  et  ipsos  esse  quae  sunt  Anaxa- 
goriae  irreligiosi  semina." 

The  fact  seems  to  be  that  Irenasus  confounded  Anaxagoras  the 
Clazomenian  with  Diagoras  the  Melian,  who  was  called,  by  way  of 
distinction,  the  Atheist. 

Anaxagoras  was  sensible  of  the  difficulties  which  embarrass  all  the 
speculations  of  human  reason  upon  the  final  causes  of  things ;  he 
complained  that  all  things  wrere  surrounded  with  darkness.  In  the 
mathematical  sciences  he  found  a  greater  degree  of  certainty,  although  His  mathe- 
even  in  this  department  of  knowledge  he  seems  to  have  indulged  in  Stromlmicai 
speculations  upon  abstruse  points.  He  is  said  to  have  treated  of  the  speculations, 
quadrature  of  the  circle,  of  the  nature  of  comets,  of  the  milky  way, 
earthquakes,  winds,  thunder,  eclipses,  and  the  annual  overflowing  of 
the  Nile  :  a  constant  source  of  perplexity  to  the  ancient  naturalists. 
He  is  related  to  have  foretold  the  fall  of  a  stone  from  the  sun,  which 
did  actually  fall  into  the  Goat's  River  in  Thrace,  and  was  there 
venerated  as  having  come  from  heaven.  This  is  a  curious  incident. 
Of  course  it  is  impossible  that  Anaxagoras  should  have  predicted  the 
fall  of  the  stone  :  the  fact  probably  is,  that  having  heard  of  the  circum- 
stance, he  said  that  the  stone  had  fallen  from  the  sun,  agreeably  to  his 
own  hypothesis  of  the  sun's  being  an  ignited  mass  of  stone.  This,  we 
believe,  is  the  first  distinct  mention  of  an  aerolite,  or  meteorolite,  which 
occurs  in  ancient  history;1  and  the  account  given  by  Anaxagoras 
of  the  stone  in  question,  is  pretty  nearly  as  probable  as  the  theory  of 
La  Place,  who  supposes  these  meteorolites  to  be  projected  from  a 
volcano  in  the  moon,  and  having  passed  the  sphere  of  lunar  gravita- 
tion, to  pursue  their  course  to  the  earth's  surface. 

Amongst  the  opinions  of  Anaxagoras  on  points  of  natural  history,  His  opinions 
the  most  remarkable  are  these :—  ' 

1  We  ought,  perhaps,  to  except  the  S/osrsrej  a.yot\pas,  of  the  Tauric  Diana,  and  the 
,  or  ancile  of  Numa  ;  both  of  which  were  probably  aerolites. 


24  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

1.  That  sleep  is  an  affection  merely  of  the  body,  not  of  the  mind. 

2.  That  the  cause  of  winds  is  the  rarefaction  of  the  air  by  the  sun's 
rays.     His  successors,  not  contented  with  this  simple  and  true  account 
of  the  matter,  had  recourse  to  much  more  complicated  and  improbable 
causes. 

3.  That  earthquakes  are  caused  by  air  confined  in  subterraneous 
caverns. 

4.  That  the  rainbow  is  occasioned  by  the  reflection  of  the  sun's 
rays  in  a  dense  cloud,  opposite  the  sun.     (Brucker  says,  "  by  the 
refraction,"   but  the  word  in  Plutarch  is  ava»cXa<7ic,  which  Aristotle 
uses  of  the  reflection  of  light.     The  philosophers  of  that  age  knew 
nothing  of  refraction :  and  when  Pliny  speaks  of  the  rainbow,  although 
he  uses  the  word  refringi,  he  seems  to  mean  reflexion.) 

Anaxagoras  committed  to  writing  some  of  his  lucubrations;  So- 
crates is  represented  by  Plato  as  expressing  the  dissatisfaction  which 
ha  experienced,  upon  the  perusal  of  a  work  of  Anaxagoras,  at  finding 
that  he  proceeded  no  further,  in  accounting  for  the  actual  state  of 
things,  than  mechanical  causes ;  instead  of  assigning  moral  causes, 
such  as  the  fitness  of  things,  the  principles  of  order,  &c.  Bayle 
defends  Anaxagoras,  upon  the  ground,  that,  having  once  admitted  a 
first  moving  cause,  he  had  no  occasion  to  recur  to  it  in  his  explanation 
of  the  separate  phenomena  of  nature.  It  appears,  from  this  account, 
that  Socrates  was  not  a  scholar  of  Anaxagoras. 

Diogenes  The  principles  of  Anaxagoras  were  taken  up  by  DIOGENES  APOL- 

Apoiioniates.  LONIATES,  the  next  philosopher  of  the  Ionic  school,  who  made,  how- 
ever, this  important  change,  that  he  supposed  the  air  not  only  to  be 
the  first  principle  of  all  things,  but  also  the  efficient  and  moving 
principle. 

Archeiaus          Diogenes  was  succeeded  by  ARCHELAUS,  both  of  them  having  been 

hearers  of  Anaxagoras.     Archeiaus  was  called,  by  way  of  eminence, 

6  ^vo-tfcoc?  "  the  natural  philosopher."     Some  writers  have  attributed 

to  him  the  honour,  which  is  most  commonly  assigned  to  Anaxagoras, 

began  teach-  of  having  been  the  first  to  import  philosophy  from  Ionia  into  Athens. 

Athens         It  is  not  unlikely   that  Archeiaus  might  have  been   the  first  who 

about  450  B.C.  established  a  regular  school  of  philosophy  in  that  city;  for  Anaxagoras 

perhaps  only  taught  some  occasional  disciples.     But  the  method  by 

which  Bayle  endeavours  to  reconcile  the  two  accounts,  is  this: — The 

ancient  writers  say  nothing  more  than  that  Archeiaus  first  transported 

the  Ionic  school  of  philosophy  from  Ionia  to  Athens,  which  is  strictly 

true  ;  for  during  the  temporary  residence  of  Anaxagoras  in  Attica,  the 

chair  of  philosophy  in  Ionia  was  not  vacant ;  whereas,  when  Archeiaus 

came  to  Athens,  he  left  no  successor  behind  him  in  Ionia. 

Where  Archeiaus  altered  the  dogmas  of  Anaxagoras  in  physics,  it 
seems  to  have  been  for  the  worse,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  his 
moral  philosophy  ;  since  he  maintained  the  dangerous  position,  that 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  natural  right ;  that  all  actions  are  in  them- 
selves indifferent;  and  that  their  moral  quality  depends  solely  on  the 


SOCRATES.  25 


decrees  of  human  laws  :    TO  SiKawv  ttvai  mx     o  alff-^pov  ov  ^vrrct,  His  opinions 


a\Xa  voiiw,  "  that  justice  and  turpitude  are  not  such  by  nature,  but  m  morals- 
by  law."  *  This  sentiment  is  nearly  the  same  as  that  which  was  put 
by  Euripides  into  the  mouth  of  one  of  the  characters  in  his  ^Eolus  :  — 


What  is  base,  which  does  not  seem  so  to  those  who  do  it? 

For  there  is  nothing  either  good,  or  bad, 
But  thinking  makes  it  so. 

Shakspeare  —  Hamlet. 

In  opposition  to  this  sentiment,  Diogenes  the  Cynic  is  related  to 
have  said, 


ro  y   aitrxgv,  xov    ox»  *«v  [W    «*»?. 
What  is  base,  is  base,  whether  it  be  thought  so  or  not. 

Possibly,  however,  Archelaus  intended  merely  to  deny  the  existence 
of  a  moral  sense  ;  and  consequently  of  any  distinction  between  right 
and  wrong,  independently  of  the  will  of  the  legislation  :  we  cannot 
pronounce  him  guilty  of  impiety,  till  it  can  be  determined  whether  by 
,  he  meant  human  laws,  or  the  declared  will  of  the  Deity. 

In  closing  this  brief  account  of  the  Ionic  school,  we  have  one  re- 
mark to  make,  which  will  throw  light  upon  some  transactions  in  the 
life  of  Socrates.  It  was  a  leading  principle  of  the  received  mytho- 
logy of  those  times,  that  all  the  different  operations  of  nature  were 
performed  by  the  agency  of  genii,  an  inferior  class  of  deities,  at  whose 
will  the  lightning  flashed,  the  earth  quaked,  the  stars  withdrew  their 
light.  Earth,  air,  and  sea  were  peopled  with  these  imaginary  agents, 
who  were  subject  to  the  order  and  control  of  the  superior  gods.  All 
the  phenomena  of  the  heavens  were  referred  to  their  respective  powers  ; 
and  when  any  portent  alarmed  an  ignorant  people,  it  was  attributed 
to  the  anger  of  some  offended  deity. 

Now  the  new  philosophy,  which  pretended  to  assign  'natural  and  Effects  of 
material  causes  for  these  various  phenomena,  went  to  pluck  up  by  SJriTf 
the   roots   this  superstition   (emphatically   termed   by   the    Greeks,  causes  of 
Seifficat.ij.ovia,  "a  fear  of  the  genii").      The  attributing  of  a  solar  p  e 
eclipse  to  the  periodical  interposition  of  the  moon  between  the  sun 
and  the  earth,  instead  of  considering  it  as  a  portent  sent  by  some 
superior  power,  for  the    purpose  of  announcing  some   approaching 
calamity,  was,  in  the  eyes  of  the  vulgar,  nothing  less  than  depriving 
their  deities  of  a  legitimate  privilege.      And,  besides,  there  was  a 
numerous  tribe  of  people  in  Greece,  called  c^yqrou,  or  expounders, 
whose  trade  it  was  to  explain  portents,  omens,  and  presages  of  every 
kind  ;  and  it  was  an  art  productive  of  no  inconsiderable  gains  to  its 
professors.     He,  therefore,  who  undertook  to  show  that  these  phe- 
nomena, which  resulted  from  the  established  and  unerring  laws  of 
nature,  could  never  be  the  prognostics  of  contingent  events  (inasmuch 
as  they  will  certainly  happen,  whether  the  events  themselves  happen 


26  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

or  not),  aimed  a  deadly  blow  at  the  lucrative  calling  of  the  whole 
tribe  of  exegetae  and  soothsayers. 

The  example  of  Nicias,  as  represented  by  Thucydides  in  his 
account  of  the  Athenian  expedition  against  Sicily,  affords  a  striking 
Prevalence  of  proof  of  the  hold,  which  this  superstition  had  obtained  upon  the  minds 
inPGreece?n  even  °f  tne  higher  classes  in  Greece;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
Pericles  was  a  remarkable  instance  of  the  advantage  which  a  man  of 
powerful  mind  acquires  over  his  contemporaries,  by  divesting  himself 
of  the  superstitious  notions  of  the  age  in  which  he  lives.  The  fol- 
lowing is  the  observation  of  Plutarch :  "  Pericles  not  only  derived 
this  benefit  from  his  intercourse  with  Anaxagoras,  but  he  seems  to 
have  been  rendered  superior  to  that  kind  of  superstitious  fear,  which 
astonishment  at  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens  excites  in  those  who 
are  ignorant  of  the  causes  of  them,  and  by  reason  of  their  inexperience, 
are  disturbed,  and  like  persons  possessed  in  religious  matters:  from 
which  superstition  natural  philosophy  emancipates  a  man,  and  inspires 
him  with  a  firm  piety,  accompanied  by  pleasing  hopes,  in  the  room  of 
this  terrifying  and  feverish  superstition."  The  same  author,  speaking 
of  the  eclipse  of  the  moon,  which  induced  Nicias  to  defer  his  retreat, 
says,  that  eclipses  of  the  sun  were  then  pretty  well  understood  by 
the  common  people  to  be  occasioned  by  the  moon ;  but  an  eclipse 
of  the  moon  itself  was  much  more  incomprehensible,  and  a  subject 
of  great  alarm.  For  Anaxagoras,  the  first  philosopher  who  had 
written  clearly  on  the  subject,  had  not  publicly  divulged  his  opinions ; 
but  his  scholars  kept  them  close  amongst  themselves  through  fear  of 
the  people,  who  could  not  endure  those  philosophers  who  treated  of 
natural  causes,  but  called  them  in  contempt  ^erewjOoXt'ffxai,  or  "  per- 
sons who  prose  about  things  in  the  sky;"  being  jealous  of  their 
attributing  to  natural  causes,  that  which  belonged  to  the  gods  alone  ; 
ibr  which  reason  Protagoras  was  banished  from  Athens,  and  Anax- 
agoras put  into  prison ;  from  which  he  was  with  great  difficulty  libe- 
rated by  Pericles. 

It  was  obviously  the  interest  of  all  the  expounders  and  soothsayers 
above  mentioned  to  foment  the  popular  jealousy  of  these  studies,  and 
to  raise  the  cry  of  atheism  against  the  new  philosophy.  Anaxagoras 
was  accused  of  impiety  v  because  he  asserted  that  the  sun  was  a  mass 
of  ignited  stone,  thereby  degrading  that  luminary  from  the  order  of 
gods ;  and  when  Aristophanes,  some  years  afterwards,  endeavoured 
to  fix  the  popular  odium  on  Socrates,  he  represented  him  as  a  minute 
philosopher,  prying  into  the  secrets  of  nature.  It  was  well  observed 
by  Justin  Martyr,  "  Those  persons  before  the  Christian  era,  who 
endeavoured  by  the  strength  of  human  understanding  to  investigate 
and  ascertain  the  nature  of  things,  were  brought  into  the  courts  of 
justice  as  impious  and  over-curious." 

The  Sophists.  We  have  before  observed,  that  the  name  which  was  applied  to 
these  persons  who  inquired  into  the  secrets  of  nature,  or  studied 
political  economy,  was  Sc^iorfe,  "  sophist."  It  is  said  by  Isocrates, 


SOCRATES.  27 

that  Solon  was  the  first  who  assumed  this  title ;  that  is,  probably,  the 
first  Athenian.  About  the  time  of  Socrates  this  appellation  began  to 
be  applied  to  those  professors  of  wisdom,  who  dogmatised  with  con- 
fidence upon  every  subject,  and  taught  philosophy  as  a  perfect  science, 
for  pay ;  while  the  modest  inquirers  after  truth  contented  themselves 
with  the  title  of  0tXo<ro</>ot,  "  lovers  of  wisdom,"  after  the  example 
of  Pythagoras.  By  degrees,  these  two  classes  of  men  became  distinct 
from,  and  opposed  to  each  other,  chiefly  through  the  influence  of 
Socrates ;  but  in  his  time  the  distinction  was  not  established.  About 
that  period,  however,  the  sophists  began  to  assume  a  tone  of  greater 
confidence,  and  professed  to  teach  the  principles  of  natural  and  moral 
philosophy  as  matters,  not  of  investigation,  but  of  certainty;  and 
seeing  the  success  which  had  attended  the  lectures  of  Anaxagoras,  by 
whose  advice  Pericles  had  been  enabled  to  obtain  the  control  and 
direction  of  the  Athenian  republic,  they  joined  the  arts  of  logic  and 
eloquence  to  the  study  of  morality  and  natural  history,  and  pretended 
to  be  masters  and  teachers  of  the  whole  circle  of  human  knowledge. 
In  reading  the  history  of  those  times,  as  it  regards  the  progress  of 
philosophy,  we  must  be  careful  not  to  confound  the  sophists  of  the 
Socrai-ic  age  with  those  of  a  later  period,  who  confined  themselves  to 
the  art  of  rhetoric :  such  were  the  sophistse  whose  lives  were  written 
by  Philostratus.  That  the  sophists  of  Athens  combined  natural  phi- 
losophy with  eloquence  and  politics,  appears  from  the  following  senti- 
ments of  Socrates,  as  reported  by  Xenophon.  "  No  person  ever  saw 
or  heard  an  irreligious  or  impious  action  or  word  of  Socrates :  for  he 
was  not  accustomed  to  discourse  concerning  the  nature  of  all  things, 
as  most  of  his  contemporaries  did,  considering  how  that,  which  the 
sophists  call  the  universe  (/coer^oe),  is  constituted,  and  by  what  neces- 
sity each  of  the  heavenly  phenomena  happens ;  but  he  used  to  prove 
the  folly  of  those  who  busied  themselves  about  such  things ;  and  he 
used  to  inquire,  in  the  first  place,  whether  they  applied  themselves  to 
these  pursuits,  having  previously  obtained  a  complete  knowledge  of 
everything  relating  to  man  ;  or  whether  they  could  reconcile  it  to  their 
notions  of  propriety  and  duty  to  omit  all  consideration  of  human 
affairs,  and  study  only  divine  things.  And  he  expressed  his  surprise 
at  their  not  clearly  perceiving,  that  these  things  are  not  discoverable 
by  the  human  intellect,  since  even  those  who  most  prided  themselves 
upon  discoursing  on  these  subjects,  did  not  think  alike,  but  differed 
with  one  another  like  so  many  crazy  people ;  for  some  crazy  persons 
are  not  afraid,  even  of  things  which  are  really  formidable,  while  others 
see  fear  where  there  is  none  :  some  again  make  no  scruple  of  saying  or 
doing  anything,  even  in  a  crowd,  while  others  cannot  bear  even  to 
appear  in  public :  some  respect  neither  temple  nor  altar,  nor  anything 
pertaining  to  the  gods,  while  others  worship  sticks,  and  stones,  and 
beasts.  So  amongst  natural  philosophers :  some  think  that  there  is 
only  one  entity,  others  an  infinite  multitude ;  some  hold  that  all  things 
are  continually  in  motion,  others  that  nothing  can  be  moved ;  some 


28  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

assert  that  all  things  are  generated  and  destroyed,  others  that  nothing 
can  be  generated  or  destroyed." — "  The  older  sophists,"  says  Phi- 
lostratus  ({.  e.  those  of  the  age  of  Socrates),  "  discoursed  largely  upon 
all  philosophical  questions ;  for  instance,  concerning  fortitude,  justice, 
heroes,  and  gods,  the  formation  and  figure  of  the  universe ;  whereas 
the  more  recent  sophists  (not  the  latest  of  all,  but  those  of  a  middle 
age)  delineated  characters,  and  discussed  questions  relating  to  indi- 
vidual persons  (vTroOiffeig  EIQ  ovojjia)  mentioned  in  history.  The 
first  of  the  older  sophists  was  Gorgias  of  Leontium ;  of  the  second 
class,  ^schines,  the  son  of  Atrometus,  who  professed  the  art  in  Caria 
and  Rhodes,  after  his  political  failure  at  Athens."  He  gives  the  fol- 
lowing account  of  the  different  modes  pursued  by  the  philosopher  and 
the  ancient  sophist  in  their  teaching.  "  The  old  sophistic  art  may 
properly  be  termed  a  philosophising  rhetoric,  for  it  discusses  the  same 
topics  as  the  philosophers;  but  what  they  propose  in  the  form  of 
questions,  advancing  step  by  step,  and  professing  not  to  know  with 
certainty ;  of  all  this  the  old  sophist  professes  a  perfect  knowledge. 
He  begins  his  discourses  with  I  know,  and  /  understand,  and  1  have 
thoroughly  considered,1  and  nothing  is  certain  to  man  (fiifiaiov  avQpuiry 
ov£eV,  this  seems  to  refer  to  the  universal  doubt  of  the  sceptics)," 

It  is  a  common  remark,  that  Socrates  was  the  first  who  transferred 
philosophy  from  the  contemplation  of  natural  history  to  the  manners 
of  men :  but  this  is  not  literally  true ;  for  although  the  Ionic  school 
was  chiefly  employed  in  physiological  researches,  the  sophists,  who 
came  to  Athens  about  the  time  of  Socrates,  professed,  at  least,  to 
combine  ethics  and  politics  with  the  more  abstruse  studies  of  nature. 
The  principal  merit,  however,  to  which  they  laid  claim,  was  that  of 
communicating  to  their  disciples  a  ready  off-hand  kind  of  knowledge, 
which  might  enable  them  to  talk  speciously  and  fluently  upon  all 
subjects  whatever  ;2  and  to  impart  to  them  that  pernicious  skill  in 
dialectics,  by  which  they  might  baffle  their  adversary,  whether  right 
or  wrong,  and  "  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  cause."  In  his 
celebrated  dialogue,  entitled  'The  Sophist,'  Plato  has  exposed  the 
manners  and  arts  of  the  sophists  of  his  time,  against  whom  Socrates 
declared  interminable  war.  So  successful  were  these  pretenders  to 
wisdom,  in  their  endeavours  to  impose  upon  their  countrymen,  that 
the  most  eminent  of  them  moved  from  city  to  city,  attended  by  a  vast 

1  Ka/  veiXKf  'btiffxifx.fAu.i,  which  Olearius  renders  ac  rursus,  dubito,  as  if  it  were 
xu.}  vrdKtv  lictrKivropai.  Philostratus  seems  to  have  had  in  his  mind  that  verse  of 
Aristophanes  (Ran.  860),  \yulas.  rourov,  x,tt\  "&iiffxip.ftcu  vraiXat,  "  have  thoroughly 
considered  him."  It  was  a  word  used  by  the  Pyrrhonists. 

"  When  Socrates  professed  his  desire  to  ask  some  questions  concerning  the  art 
which  Gorgias  professed,  Callicles  says  to  him,  "  There  is  nothing  like  asking  the 
man  himself,  Socrates ;  for  this  is  one  part  of  his  public  exhibition :  it  was  only 
just  now  that  he  desired  any  one  of  the  party  to  ask  him  any  question  he  pleased, 
and  declared  that  he  would  give  an  answer  to  all."  Upon  which  Chaerephon  asks 
Gorgias  whether  this  be  true;  to  which  he  replies,  "It  is  quite  true,  Chaerephon; 
I  did  make  this  promise  ;  and,  moreover,  I  say  that  nobody  has  put  a  new  question 
to  me  for  these  many  years."  Plato,  Gorg.  p.  447. 


SOCRATES.  29 

train  of  scholars,  who  paid  large  sums,  for  the  inestimable  advantage 
of  being  taught  the  art  of  deceiving  and  overreaching  their  fellow- 
citizens :  and,  indeed,  Xenophon  tells  us  that  Socrates  applied  the 
term  sophist  exclusively  to  those  who  sold  wisdom  for  money,  and 
would  not  allow  them  to  be  called  either  ao&oi  or  <f>i\6<ro(j)oi.  The 
sophist  is  described  in  the  dialogue  above-mentioned,  as — 1st,  a  mer- 
cenary hunter  of  rich  young  men ;  2nd,  a  wholesale  trafficker  in  meta- 
physical knowledge ;  3rd,  a  retail  trader  in  the  same ;  4th,  one  who 
sells  his  own  manufactures ;  5th,  one  practised  in  the  gymnastics  of 
litigious  eloquence ;  6th,  one,  who  himself  contradicts,  and  teaches 
others  to  contradict,  and  be  contentious  in  questions  relating  to  divine 
things,  to  the  phenomena  of  nature,  and  to  political  science  ;l  7th,  a 
kind  of  conjurer,  or  juggler,  who,  with  the  semblance  of  truth,  per- 
suades young  men  that  he  knows  everything,  whereas,  in  fact,  he  has 
only  a  delusive  show  of  wisdom,  without  the  substance.  The  dia- 
lectic subtlety  of  these  men  is  exposed  by  Plato,  in  his  '  Euthydemus  :' 
but  it  must  be  confessed,  that,  by  their  minute  cavils  and  objections, 
by  their  divisions  and  subdivisions,  they  led  the  way  to  a  truer  and 
more  exact  system  of  logic  than  had  heretofore  been  known. 

The  great'leader  of  the  sophists  was  PROTAGORAS,  of  Abdera,  or  of  Protagoras. 
Teos,  a  scholar  of  Democritus,  who,  having  commenced  the  custom 
of  demanding  a  fee  for  admission  to  his  lectures,  amassed  more  money, 
says  Socrates,  in  Plato,  than  Phidias,  and  any  ten  sculptors  besides. 
This  gainful  trade  he  pursued  for  forty  years,  and,  when  he  died,  left 
a  great  reputation  behind  him.  He  was  not,  however,  the  earliest 
sophist ;  for  Socrates  is  made  to  say  in  the  same  place  ('  Menon.,' 
p.  373,  ed.  Bib.)  that  many  others  had  followed  the  same  profession 
before  him.  He  was,  however,  the  first  who  gave  lectures  for  pay. 

Amongst  the  scholars  of  Protagoras,  the  most  remarkable  were 
Gorgias,  of  Leontium,  who  was  chiefly  celebrated  for  his  eloquence 
(whom  Philostratus  calls  the  ^Eschylus  of  sophists),  and  Prodicus,  of 
Ceos ;  in  the  number  of  whose  hearers  were  Euripides,  Isocrates, 
Xenophon,  and  Socrates  himself,  who  is  represented  by  Plato,  as  say- 
ing to  Meno,  "  You  and  I,  Meno,  it  seems,  are  but  poor  creatures ; 
Gorgias  has  given  an  indifferent  education  to  you,  and  Prodicus  to 
me."  It  appears,  however,  from  a  passage  in  Plato's  '  Cratylus,' 
that  Socrates  could  not  afford  to  pay  the  sum,  which  Prodicus  ex- 
acted of  those  who  were  desirous  of  knowing  the  more  recondite  mys- 
teries of  his  craft.  He  speaks  of  a  lecture,2  the  price  of  which  was 

1  Plato  remarks,  in  the  character  of  Theastetus,  that,  unless  the  sophists  had 
professed  to  communicate  political  knowledge,  no  one  would  have  conversed  with 
them.     This  is  a  remarkable  circumstance,  inasmuch  as  it  develops  the  real  object 
which  their  auditors  had  in  view,  viz. — to  acquire  so  great  a  proficiency  in  the 
adroit  management  of  affairs  as  might  enable  them  to  take  the  lead  in  the  common- 
wealth.    Gorgias  professed  to  communicate  to  his  scholars  the  summum  bonum, 
viz. — the  art  of  persuasion,  "  by  which  men  obtain  the  government  over  others  in 
their  respective  states."     Plato,  Gorg.  p.  452. 

2  'Ewvlf/l/f,  "  a  display."    Plato,  Gorg.  p.  447,  a.      voXXos,  xa<  xaAa  Tobias  riftu 


30  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

fifty  drachms  ;  while  he  himself  had  only  paid  one  drachm.  Prodicus 
first  made  his  appearance  at  Athens,  as  an  ambassador  from  his  native 
island,  and  gained  great  applause  by  his  eloquence.  Most  of  our 
readers  are  acquainted  with  his  celebrated  apologue,  of  the  '  Choice  of 
Hercules,'  which  Socrates  quotes  at  length  in  the  '  Memorabilia,'  of 
Xenophon,  and  says  that  it  was  very  popular.1  Prodicus  was  accused, 
as  Socrates  afterwards  was,  of  corrupting  the  youth  of  Athens  by  in- 
culcating irreligious  opinions,  and  was  condemned  to  drink  "  the  cold 
Socratic  draught."  2 

Hippias.  Another  celebrated  sophist  was  HIPPIAS,  of  Elis,  who  boasted  at 

the  Olympic  games,  that  there  was  nothing,  in  the  whole  range  of  the 
arts  and  sciences,  which  he  did  not  know  ;  and  that  he  was  not  only  a 
perfect  master  of  the  liberal  arts,  geometry,  music,  poetry,  &c.,  but 
that  the  ring  which  he  then  wore,  his  robe,  and  his  buskins,  were  all 
manufactured  by  his  own  hand.  Plato  has  introduced  him  as  a  speaker 
in  the  two  dialogues  which  are  entitled  '  Hippias  Major,'  arid  '  Hippias 
Minor;'  the  first  of  which  throws  so  much  light  upon  the  character 
and  practices  of  the  sophists,  that  we  shall  here  present  our  readers 
with  such  parts  of  it  as  may  serve  to  place  in  the  clearest  point  of  view 
the  mode  of  philosophising,  against  which  Socrates  waged  unceasing 
war.  The  two  persons  of  the  dialogue  are  Socrates  and  Hippias. 

So.  Why  Hippias,  worthy3  and  wise  sir,  what  a  long  time  it  is 
since  you  visited  us  at  Athens! 

Hi.  Very  true  ;  for  I  have  had  no  leisure,  Socrates.  For  the  state 
of  Elis,  when  it  wants  to  negotiate  anything  with  another  city,  always 
comes  first  to  me,  to  choose  me  for  its  ambassador,  thinking  me  to  be 
the  most  competent  judge  and  interpreter  of  the  proposals  made  on  the 
part  of  the  respective  cities.  I  have  therefore  frequently  gone  as  am- 
bassador to  other  cities,  but  most  frequently,  and  upon  affairs  of  the 
greatest  moment,  to  Lacedsemon  ;  for  which  reason,  that  I  may  answer 
your  inquiry,  I  don't  come  very  often  into  these  parts. 

So.  Such  a  fine  thing  it  is,  Hippias,  to  be  a  truly  wise  and  perfectly 
accomplished  man.  You,  for  instance,  are  able,  in  your  private  ca- 


:  "  Gorgias,  a  little  before  you  came,  gave  us  a  fine  lecture." 
Aristophanes  describes  Euripides  as  making  a  rhetorical  display  of  this  sort  to  the 
rogues  in  hell.  "OTS^TJ  xa<r»5X#'  Etw$r<5»jj,  iTft^tinvvTo  Tot;  Z.UWO&U'TUI;,  xui  <ro~; 
fiaXuvrwroftoi;  xa,}  roiffi  vrxrgKXoietitri  xa.}  rM%*r£P£Mf,  "Ovtg  'itr<r  iv  K& 
S'  Kxgoov/tivoi  Tuv  a.vrtXoytuv,  XKI  Xwyiffftuv,  xeit  trr^uv^  'Tvrtitiftoivvff 
ffatpuretrov.  Here  is  a  good  description  of  the  ivi$tiZ,ns  of  the  sophists. 

1  Ka/  Upobixo;  %t  o  ffolfioi  tv  <r&>  ffvyyodft/AKTi   <rcy   vrtpi   TOV  'HpaxXiov;  (o?T££  %  xa,} 
<jr*.ii<rroi$  If^iixvuTxi),  "  and  Prodicus  the  wise  also,  in  his  work  about  Hercules, 
which  he  recites  to  everybody."     No  commentator  has  understood  the  precise  mean- 
ing of  this  parenthesis.     See  the  preceding  note.     Philostratus  says,  that  Gorgias 
ridiculed  Prodicus  for  repeating  the  same  discourse  or  lecture  over  and  over  again, 
and  professed  himself  to  speak  extemporaneously. 

2  2uxga<rtxov  -^v^ov  VOTOV.     Timon  Phliasius  ap.  Sext.  Emp.  p.  319. 

3  CO  x«Xoj  TS  XKI  ffoty'os.     Heindorf  has  shown  that  xa,\os  does  not  refer  to  the 
personal  appearance  of  Hippias,  as  Sydenham,  the  translator  of  Plato,  supposes.     It 
answers  perhaps  most  nearly  to  the  bellus  of  the  Latins,  and  to  our  fine. 


SOCRATES.  31 

parity,  while  you  receive  laige  sums  from  the  young  men,  to  give  them 
in  return  more  than  their  money's  worth ;  and  in  your  public  character, 
to  benefit  your  country,  as  every  man  must,  who  would  not  be  despised, 
but  thought  highly  of  by  people  in  general.  But  pray  tell  me,  Hippias, 
what  can  be  the  reason,  why  those  ancient  worthies,  who  are  so  cele-. 
brated  for  wisdom,  Pittacus  and  Bias,  and  Thales  of  Miletus,  and  his 
successors  down  to  Anaxagoras,  all,  or  most  of  them,  appear  to  have 
kept  aloof  from  political  transactions  ?l 

Hi.  What  other  reason,  d'ye  think,  Socrates,  than  their  inability, 
and  incompetency  to  master,  by  the  force  of  their  understanding,  the 
arts  both  of  public  and  private  life  ? 

So.  Do  you  mean  to  say  then,  that  as  the  other  arts  have  advanced, 
and  the  ancient  professors  of  them  have  been  far  surpassed  by  those 
of  our  days  ;  so  the  art  which  you  sophists  profess,  has  improved,  and 
that  the  old  philosophers  are  nothing  compared  to  you  ? 

Hi.  You  have  exactly  hit  upon  the  truth. 

So.  I  am  ready  to  testify  with  you,  that  what  you  say  is  true ;  and 
that,  in  fact,  your  art  has  so  far  improved,  as  to  combine  the  manage- 
ment of  public  with  that  of  private  affairs.  For  Gorgias,  the  sophist 
of  Leontium,  came  hither,  on  a  public  embassy  from  his  native  country, 
as  being  the  best  qualified  of  the  Leontines  to  manage  the  affairs  of  the 
commonwealth ;  and  he  had  the  credit  of  being  an  excellent  speaker 
in  the  assemblies  of  the  people ;  and  in  private  gave  lectures,  and  as- 
sociated with  young  men,  and  by  that  means  made  a  great  deal  of 
money  out  of  this  city.  Again,  if  you  prefer  this  instance,  our  old 
companion  Prodicus,  has  often  come  hither  in  a  public  character  upon 
other  occasions,  and  upon  his  last  visit,  which  was  very  lately,  having 
come  from  Ceos,  he  acquired  great  credit  by  a  speech  in  the  council ; 
and  giving  lectures  in  his  private  capacity,  he  got  a  prodigious  sum  of 
money.  But  not  one  of  those  ancient  gentlemen  ever  thought  of  ex- 
acting money  as  a  price,  nor  of  making  a  display  of  his  wisdom  to  all 
sorts  of  people,  so  simple  were  they,  and  ignorant  of  the  great  value  of 
money.  Whereas,  each  of  those  moderns  makes  more  money  by  his 
wisdom,  than  the  professors  of  any  other  art  whatever ;  and  the  same 
was  done  by  Protagoras  before  them. 

Hi.  The  fact  is,  Socrates,  that  you  know  nothing  of  the  fine  things 
I  could  tell  you  on  this  subject.  If  you  knew  how  much  money  I 
have  made,  you  would  indeed  be  surprised.  To  mention  no  other 
instances — having  arrived  in  Sicily  upon  a  certain  occasion,  Prota- 
goras being  at  that  time  residing  there,  in  high  reputation,  and  some- 
what advanced  in  years,  I,  being  much  younger,  made  in  a  very 
short  time  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  minae ;  and  more  than 
twenty  out  of  one  very  small  town,  named  Inycum.  This  I  carried 

1  Socrates  says  this  in  compliance  with  the  common  opinion  of  the  sophists  of 
his  time,  who  laid  claim  to  the  invention  of  managing  the  state  by  philosophy;  and 
said  that  Pittacus,  and  others  of  the  same  stamp,  interfered  in  politics,  not  as  phi- 
losophers, but  as  tyrants  and  intriguers. 


32  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

home  and  gave  to  my  father,  to  the  great  surprise  and  astonishment  of 
himself  and  his  fellow-citizens.  And  I  rather  think  I  have  made  more 
money  than  any  two  whatever  of  the  other  sophists. 

He  then  goes  on  to  tell  Socrates,  that  in  Lacedaemon,  where  he  had 
been  most  frequently,  he  had  made  no  money  at  all ;  and  when  pressed 
for  a  reason  of  this,  he  says,  "  It  is  not  the  custom  of  that  country  to 
disturb  the  existing  laws,  nor  to  introduce  any  novel  practice  in  the 
education  of  their  sons."  He  confesses  that  the  Lacedaemonians  would 
not  listen  to  any  discourses  on  astronomy,  geometry,  nor  arithmetic ; 
nor  upon  grammatical  questions  ;  but  "  concerning  the  genealogies  of 
heroes  and  men,  and  the  original  foundation  and  colonization  of  towns, 
and  upon  antiquarian  subjects.  And  I  got  great  credit  by  discoursing 
upon  the  different  pursuits  which  a  young  man  ought  to  follow.  For 
I  have  a  very  charming  little  work  on  this  subject,  well  drawn  up  in 
all  respects,  but  particularly  in  point  of  language.  The  subject  is 
this.  Troy  being  taken,  I  suppose  Neoptolemus  to  ask  of  Nestor, 
what  are  the  most  becoming  pursuits  for  a  young  man  who  wishes  to 
gain  credit  by  them  ?  Then  Nestor  speaks  and  suggests  to  him  a 
great  many  very  orderly  and  honourable  precepts.  This  discourse  I 
delivered  there,  and  intend  to  do  the  same  here  the  day  after  to-mor- 
row, in  the  school  of  Pheidostratus,  and  to  add  to  it  a  great  deal  more 
worth  hearing." 

Effects  on  These  extracts  afford  a  fair  specimen  of  the  vanity  and  ostentation 
Sdef  ro-  °^  tne  sophists,  and  of  the  effect  which  they  produced  upon  the  tone 
duced  by  the  of  society  at  Athens,  with  respect  both  to  literature  and  morality, 
th^sopffets.  Multitudes  of  young  men  attended  these  pernicious  teachers,  and 
paid  them  every  kind  of  honour;  struck  with  astonishment  at  the 
facility  and  splendour  of  their  eloquence,  as  well  as  at  the  dialectic 
subtlety  of  their  reasoning ;  and,  what  was  far  worse,  captivated  by 
the  easy  morality  which  confounded  all  the  limits  of  right  and  wrong, 
and  placed  the  summum  bonum  in  the  attainment  of  political  distinc- 
tion. We  have  given  an  account,  somewhat  minute,  of  these  mis- 
named philosophers,  because  it  is  impossible  to  understand  the  cha- 
racter of  Socrates,  or  to  appreciate  his  excellencies,  without  being 
previously  acquainted  with  the  state  of  society  in  which  he  found 
himself  upon  his  entrance  into  life.  The  example  of  Pericles  had 
inflamed  the  ambition  of  the  youth  of  Athens ;  and  to  obtain,  like 
him,  an  unlimited  influence  over  the  people,  was  the  one  great  object 
of  their  desires.  To  the  pursuit  of  this,  all  other  studies  were  made 
subservient.  The  sophists  saw  this  ruling  passion,  and  took  advan- 
tage of  it ;  and  in  the  course  of  their  instruction,  having  run  through 
a  certain  system  of  natural  philosophy,  founded  upon  the  principle  of 
materialism,  they  directed  their  chief  attention  to  those  arts  of  reason- 
ing, or  rather  to  that  abuse  of  reason,  which  they  called  by  the  name 
Dialectics,  of  dialectics.  By  the  help  of  this  instrument,  the  youthful  catechumen 
was  enabled  readily  to  perplex  the  understandings  and  judgments  of  a 
popular  auditory ;  to  argue  plausibly  on  either  side  of  a  question,  as 


SOCRATES.  33 

might  be  most  agreeable  to  his  hearers,  and  therefore  most  conducive 
to  his  own  purposes ;  in  the  accomplishment  of  which  he  would  be 
restrained  by  no  feelings  of  honour  or  moral  delicacy,  having  been 
taught  that  there  was  no  inherent  nor  essential  difference  between 
right  and  wrong. 

"  That  might  made  right,"  says  Mr.  Mitford,  the  able  historian 
of  Greece,  "  especially  in  public  transactions,  was  a  tenet  very  gene- 
rally avowed;  the  incalculable  mischiefs  of  which  were  checked  only 
by  the  salutary  superstition,  which  taught  to  respect  the  sanction 
of  oaths,  in  the  fear  that  immediate  vengeance  from  the  gods  would 
follow  the  violation  of  it  as  a  personal  affront  to  themselves.  It 
appears,  however,  in  the  remaining  works  of  the  great  comic  poet 
of  the  day,  that  this  salutary  superstition  was  fast  wearing  away.  It 
is  evident  from  the  writings  of  Xenophon  and  Plato,  that,  in  their 
age,  the  boundaries  of  right  and  wrong,  justice  and  injustice,  honesty 
and  dishonesty,  were  little  determined  by  any  generally-received 
principle.  There  were  those  who  contended  that,  in  private  as  in 
public  affairs,  whatever  was  clearly  for  a  man's  advantage,  he  might 
reasonably  do :  and  even  sacrifice  was  performed,  and  prayer  offered 
to  the  gods  for  success  in  wrong." 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  at  Athens,  when  Socrates  appeared  Socrates, 
upon  the  stage  of  public  life.  Before  we  proceed  to  detail  his  bio- 
graphy, a  few  words  must  be  said  concerning  the  sources  from  which 
we  derive  our  information  respecting  him.  It  is  well  known  that 
the  two  authors,  from  whom  this  information  is  principally  drawn, 
were  his  scholars  and  admirers.  Of  these,  Plato  has  rather  been 
studious  to  raise  an  immortal  monument  to  his  own  wisdom  and 
eloquence,  than  to  give  a  faithful  delineation  and  portraiture  of  his 
illustrious  master.  He  has  made  Socrates  the  principal  personage 
in  his  truly  dramatic  dialogues ;  but  he  has  rather  employed  him  as 
the  organ  of  his  own  philosophical  opinions,  than  represented,  in 
their  native  simplicity,  the  doctrines  of  the  great  teacher  himself. 
We  are  assured  by  Aristotle,  that  Plato  was  addicted,  in  his  earlier 
years,  to  the  notions  of  Heraclitus ;  and  Socrates  complained  that, 
even  during  his  lifetime,  Plato  corrupted  his  doctrines  by  mixing 
with  them  the  tenets  of  other  philosophers.  This  conduct  gave  great 
offence  to  the  other  disciples  of  Socrates,  and  especially  to  Xenophon, 
between  whom  and  Plato  there  appears  to  have  subsisted  a  con- 
siderable dislike.  It  is  very  plain,  from  the  style  of  Plato's  dialogues, 
that  they  are  not  to  be  depended  upon  as  faithful  records  of  the  life 
or  sayings  of  Socrates.  Athena?us  relates,  that  Gorgias,  upon  reading 
the  dialogue  inscribed  with  his  name,  exclaimed,  "  How  well  does 
Plato  understand  the  art  of  lampooning !  "  He  added,  that  he  had 
never  heard  Socrates  utter  a  syllable  of  what  Plato  puts  in  his 
mouth.  Timon  of  Phlius,  the  writer  of  SHU,  who  lashed  all  the 
philosophers,  had  a  verse  to  the  following  effect : — "  How  skilfully 
did  Plato  invent  his  admirable  fictions !  " 

[G.  K.  P.]  D 


34  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

Some  of  the  persons,  whom  Plato  introduces  as  conversing  with 
Socrates,  could  never  have  seen  him ;  and  Xenophon  says,  that  as  it 
was  perfectly  well  known  that  Socrates  confined  himself  wholly  to 
moral  philosophy,  those  writers  who  put  into  his  mouth  long  dis- 
cussions upon  subjects  relating  to  physics,  were  guilty  of  a  palpable 
imposture.  This  remark  was  evidently  aimed  at  Plato.  The  Abbe 
Gamier  has  endeavoured  to  exonerate  Plato  from  these  charges,  but 
without  success. 

The  genius  and  ambition  of  Plato  having  thus  disqualified  him  for 
the  office  of  a  faithful  historian  of  the  philosophy  of  Socrates,  we 
must  be  cautious  how  we  impute  to  that  extraordinary  man  any 
opinion  or  practice,  upon  the  authority  of  Plato,  unless  we  have  the 
concurrent  testimony  of  Xenophon,  whose  amiable  candour  and  sim- 
plicity irresistibly  claim  our  belief.  His  'ATro/uvr^yLtorfv/zara,  or 
Memoirs1  of  Socrates,  are  our  text-book,  in  investigating  the  opinions 
of  his  master. 

The  life  of  Socrates  was  written  by  Aristoxenus,  Demetrius, 
Phalereus,  and  several  others,  whose  works  have  perished;  but  we 
find  notices  from  them  in  the  writings  of  later  authors;  in  some 
instances  contradicting  one  another,  and  requiring  the  judgment  of 
sound  criticism  to  decide  upon  their  comparative  credibility. 
Socrates  Socrates  was  born  in  the  fourth  year  of  the  seventy-seventh  Olym- 

born468u.c.  pigi^  on  fa^  B\xth  of  the  month  Thargelio,  at  Alopece,  a  demus  or 
borough,   of  Attica.     His  father,  who  was  a  statuary,  was  named 
Sophroniscus ;  his  mother,  who  was  a  midwife,  Phaenarete.     Socrates 
Leams  ins     was  instructed  by  his  father  in  his  own  art,  which  he  exercised  with 
fat'ier>s  art  of  some  skill  and  success :  Pausanias  says,  that  he  made  the  statues  of 
Mercury  and  the  Graces, which  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the  Acropolis. 
His  father  having  died,  left  him  an  inheritance  of  eighty  minae,  which 
he  lost  by  the  treachery  of  a  relation,  to  whom  he  had  lent  it  upon 
interest.     Being  thus  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  working  at  his  pro- 
fession, he  contented  himself  with  doing  just  enough  to  bring  him  in 
a  bare  subsistence,  and  employed  his  leisure  time  in  the  study  of 
philosophy.2     Crito,  a  rich  Athenian,  is  said  to  have  furnished  him 
with  the  means  of  procuring  for  himself  such  instruction  as  he  desired. 
Becomes  a     At  the  age  of  seventeen,  he  became  a  hearer  and  favourite  scholar  of 

scholar  of 

Archelaus.  *  This  book  is  usually  called  the  Memorabilia.  Gellius  describes  it  as  "  a  trea- 
tise concerning  the  actions  and  sayings  of  Socrates  :"  y.-xo^wonvnt  is  '  to  remind* 
a.<ro[*.vnpoviviAa,,  '  anything  of  which  one  is  put  in  mind;'  therefore,  Kfof^vn^oviv^Krix. 
are  probably  Memoirs.  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson  would  be  exactly  designated 
by  this  word.  We  must  here  observe,  that  some  critics  have  doubted  whether  the 
Memorabilia  be  the  genuine  production  of  Xenophon  or  not. 

2  Brucker  makes  a  ludicrous  mistake  on  this  subject.  He  says,  "  Quare  neces- 
sitate compulsus,  non  Athenis  tantum,  sed  et  Duris  statuariam  exercuit."  He 
found  in  the  Latin  version  of  Diogenes  these  words  :  "  Porro  Duris  serviisse  ilium 
ait,  et  sculpsisse  lapides;"  »'.  e.,  "Duris  also  relates  that  he  was  a  slave,  and  cut 
statues."  Whereas  Brucker,  not  consulting  the  Greek,  where  there  is  the  nomi- 
native Aovgtg,  mistook  Duris  for  the  ablative,  and  fancied  it  to  be  the  name  of  a 
place. 


SOCRATES.  35 

Archelaus.  He  received  lessons  in  music  from  Damon,  a  celebrated 
professor  of  that  science ;  but  did  not  learn  to  play  on  the  lyre  till  he 
had  arrived  at  a  much  later  period  of  his  life.  For  the  precepts  of 
eloquence  he  had  recourse  to  Prodicus ;  for  those  of  poetry  to  Euenus, 
of  Paros,  a  celebrated  elegiac  poet ;  geometry  he  learned  from  Theo- 
doras. To  these  graver  studies,  he  sought  to  add  an  acquaintance 
with  the  delicacies  of  language  and  of  thought ;  and  with  that  view, 
he  frequented  the  society  of  the  most  accomplished  females  at  Athens, 
particularly  Aspasia,  the  mistress,  and  afterwards  the  wife,  of  Pericles ; 
and  Diotima,  from  whom  he  professed  to  have  imbibed  the  philosophy 
of  love. 

He  pursued  these  methods  of  obtaining  knowledge,  in  preference, 
to  the  course  which  had  been  followed  by  most  of  his  predecessors, 
who  had  thought  it  necessary  to  visit  Egypt  and  the  east,  dewpirjs 
eivlictv,  as  Herodotus  says,  for  the  sake  of  seeing  what  was  to  be 
seen,  and  of  obtaining  some  insight  into  the  recondite  wisdom  of  the 
priests  and  magi ;  whereas  Socrates  used  to  boast  that  he  had  never 
left  Athens,  except  on  the  service  of  the  state.  When  he  was  called 
upon,  in  his  civil  capacity,  to  discharge  any  of  the  offices  imposed 
upon  him  by  the  laws,  he  was  active,  conscientious,  and  disinterested. 
He  served  as  a  soldier  at  the  siege  of  Potidaea,  (OL.  Ixxxvi.  3),  and  Serves  as  a 
Alcibiades,  who  was  his  comrade,  testified  that  he  surpassed  all  his 
fellow-soldiers  in  his  endurance  of  labour,  hunger,  and  thirst;  and 
that  he  united  the  most  perfect  sobriety  with  great  convivial  cheer- 
fulness. Alcibiades  himself,  when  wounded,  was  rescued  from  the 
most  imminent  danger  by  his  friend  and  preceptor.  After  the  con- 
flict, the  prize  of  valour  having  been  adjudged  to  Socrates,  he  pre- 
vailed upon  the  umpires  to  transfer  it  to  Alcibiades.  His  second 
campaign  was  in  OL.  Ixxxix.  1,  when  he  distinguished  himself  at  the 
battle  of  Delium  in  Boeotia  (where  the  Athenians  were  defeated)  by 
his  valour  in  defence  of  Xenophon ;  who  having  lost  his  horse  in  the 
flight,  and  lying  wounded  on  the  ground,  Socrates,  who  was  on  foot, 
carried  him  on  his  shoulders  to  a  considerable  distance,  walking 
deliberately  and  firmly,  and  displaying  a  courage  which  deterred  the 
enemy  from  attacking  him.  He  served  again,  the  same  year,  in  the 
expedition  against  Amphipolis.  Athenaeus  endeavours  to  deprive 
Socrates  of  the  credit  of  these  military  achievements,  taking  for  his 
text  a  saying  of  Democrates,  "  that  one  could  as  easily  make  a  lance 
of  a  stalk  of  savory,  as  a  perfect  soldier  of  a  Socrates;"  and  he 
attempts  to  prove,  partly  by  chronological  computations,  and  partly 
on  the  ground  of  improbability,  that  the  account  given  by  Plato  is 
untrue.  But  Plato  is  supported  by  the  testimony  of  Xenophon 
and  Antisthenes ;  both  of  whom  lived  so  near  the  time  when  these 
occurrences  are  said  to  have  taken  place,  as  to  render  it  in  the 
highest  degree  improbable  that  they  should  have  ventured  to  impose 
a  false  account  upon  persons  who  knew  the  real  state  of  the  case. 
The  cavils  of  Athenseus  have  been  satisfactorily  refuted  by  Isaac 

D2 


36  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

Casaubon,  in  his  animadversions  upon  that  learned,  but  injudicious 
writer. 

Socrates,   partly  from  a  dislike  of  politics,  and  partly,   perhaps, 
from  the  obscurity  of  his  station,  did  not  fill  any  civil  office  till  he 
was  considerably  advanced  in  years,  when  he  was  elected  into  the 
His  conduct   council :  and  being  one  of  the  Prytaneis  when  the  six  generals  were 
^  Court  of  °  tried  for  having  neglected  to  rescue  from  the  waves  those  who  had 
Justice.        been  wrecked,  and  the  dead  bodies  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the 
sea-fight  at  Arginusce,  he  resisted  'singly  the  iniquitous  attempts  of 
their  accusers,  and  the  fury  of  the  people,  and  refused  to  put  the 
question  to  the  vote.     Afterwards,  under  the  rule  of  the  Thirty,  being 
deputed  one   of  five  to  arrest  Leo  of  Salamis,  ibr  the  purpose   of 
putting  him  to  death,  he  resolutely  declined  the  office,  at  the  hazard 
of  his  own  life,  which  would  probably  have  been  sacrificed  to  the 
resentment  of  the  tyrants,  had  they  not  shortly  afterwards  been  de- 
prived of  their  power. 

Socrates  is  said  to  have  taken  advantage  of  a  law  of  Solon,  which 
permitted  an  Athenian  citizen  to  have  two  wives ;  and  to  have  mar- 
His  marriage,  ried  first  Xanthippe,  and  afterwards  Myrto,  the  daughter  of  Aristides 
(not  the  Just),  whom  he  is  related  to  have  taken  into  his  house  from 
motives  of  pity,  when  she  was  a  widow  and  in  distress.  This  story 
rests  upon  the  authority  of  Plutarch,  Demetrius,  Phalereus,  Aris- 
toxenus,  and  Satyrus  the  Peripatetic.  But  there  are  many  reasons 
for  doubting  the  fact.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  good  authority 
for  asserting  that  there  was  any  law  of  Solon  which  permitted  bigamy. 
In  the  second  place,  neither  Plato  nor  Xenophon  make  any  allusion 
to  such  a  circumstance  in  their  master's  life;  nor  Aristophanes, 
who  certainly  would  not  have  let  slip  so  fair  an  opportunity  of  a 
joke  against  Socrates.  And  lastly,  Plutarch,  who  is  the  earliest 
author  extant  that  mentions  the  story,  says  that  Panaetius,  in  his 
book  on  Socrates,  "  has  abundantly  refuted  the  assertions  of  those 
writers  who  propagated  the  story."  The  fact  probably  was,  that 
Socrates  did  receive  Myrto  into  his  house  from  motives  of  charity 
and  kindness,  and  that  hence  originated  a  report  of  his  having  married 
her.  The  reader  may  see  the  question  discussed  at  length  in  Bentley's 
*  Diss.  on  the  Socratic  Epistles ;'  Mahne's  '  Diatribe  de  Aristoxeno.' 
Xanthippe,  With  regard  to  the  character  of  Xanthippe,  his  undoubted  wife, 
her  character  there  is  a  great  diversity  of  opinion.  She  is  commonly  believed  to 
have  been  a  woman  of  loose  manners,  and  of  violent  temper.  For 
the  first  of  these  charges,  however,  there  seems  to  be  no  gocd 
authority.  Neither  Plato,  Aristotle,  nor  Aristophanes,  make  any 
allusion  to  it;  and  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  account  which  Plato 
gives  of  the  kind  and  affectionate  behaviour  of  Xanthippe  towards 
her  husband  in  his  last  moments.  But  it  is  quite  clear  that  she  was 
of  a  violent  and  untractable  temper ;  for  Socrates  professed  to  have 
married  her  because  he  knew  that  if  he  could  put  up  with  her  caprice 
and  passion,  he  would  be  able  to  bear  with  patience  the  ill  humour  of 


SOCRATES.  37 

others.  Lamprocles,  the  son  of  Xanthippe,  declares,  in  Xenophon, 
that  the  fierceness  of  a  wild  beast  would  be  more  tolerable  than  the 
temper  of  such  a  mother.  At  the  same  time,  however,  he  confesses 
that  she  had  performed  towards  him  all  the  offices  of  a  kind  and  care- 
ful parent. 

Socrates  appears  to  have  been  at  all  times  in  a  state  of  great  indi-  Socrates' 
gence ;  nor  was  he  solicitous  to  increase  his  means.     He  was  wholly  P°verty- 
intent  upon  correcting  the  gross  defects  which  he  perceived  in  the 
religion,  the  morality,  and  the  government  of  his  country ;  and  made 
the  pursuit  of  this  object  the  sole  business  of  his  life.     He  was  gifted 
with  an  extraordinary  share  of  sagacity  and  common  sense,  and  a  great 
facility  of  expressing  his  sentiments  in  easy  and  perspicuous  language. 
Instead  of  following;  the  example  of  the  sophists,  who  proclaimed  their  The'business 

1     ,  i  •     T      /•  i  of  his  life, 

readiness  and  ability  to  communicate  to  others  every  kind  or  know- 
ledge, he  professed  himself,  what,  in  fact  he  was,  a  sincere  and  ardent 
inquirer  after  truth  ;  and  imparted  to  others  the  wisdom  which  he 
seemed  to  be  seeking,  not  in  the  way  of  a  dogmatic  lecture,  nor  of 
precept,  but  bv  proposing  questions,  which  led  his  hearers  insensibly  His  method 

-      .     *         ,  .     y: :    l    A  S  i       °  M ,      .  J   of  teaching. 

to  just  and  indisputable  conclusions. 

As  Socrates  was  well  aware  that  the  most  effectual  way  of  pro- 
ducing a  reform  in  the  opinions  and  habits  of  his  countrymen,  was  by 
communicating  a  proper  bias  to  the  minds  of  those  young  men  who 
were  likely  to  have  a  share  in  the  management  of  public  affairs,  he 
took  every  opportunity  of  mixing,  but  in  an  easy  and  natural  way,  in 
the  company  of  the  opulent  and  popular  Athenians,  of  those  who 
sought  to  distinguish  themselves  by  their  eloquence,  their  elegance,  or 
their  manly  pursuits.  With  this  view  he  was  continually  in  public. 
No  man,  perhaps,  ever  lived  so  long  and  so  much  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world  as  Socrates.  Early  in  the  morning  he  went  to  the  public  walks 
and  gymnasia,  or  schools  for  athletic  exercises ;  and  when  the  Agora 
.(t.  e.,  the  public  bazaar  or  exchange)  was  most  thronged,  which  was 
about  noon,  Socrates  was  always  one  of  the  crowd ;  and  h'e  generally 
accepted  of  some  invitation  to  pass  the  rest  of  the  day  where  he  was 
likely  to  meet  the  largest  company.  In  these  parties  he  was  usually 
the  principal  speaker.  Although  a  very  patient  hearer,  he  mostly 
contrived  to  give  the  conversation  a  turn  to  some  interesting  and  im- 
portant subject,  which  he  enlivened  by  his  ingenuity  arid  cheerfulness, 
and  concluded  by  convincing  his  hearers,  without  even  distinctly  assert- 
ing the  opinion  which  he  wished  them  to  embrace. 

When  his  reputation  was  established,  and  he  was  followed  by  great 
numbers  of  young  Athenians,  he  could  never  be  induced  to  relieve  his 
poverty  by  accepting  any  reward  for  his  instructions  given  in  public ; 
and  in  private,  properly  speaking,  he  gave  none. 

He  did  not,  however,  confine  his  peculiar  method  of  philosophising 
to  men  of  rank  and  property ;  but  took  frequent  opportunities  of  con- 
versing with  those  artists  and  mechanics  who  were  most  eminent  in 
their  respective  departments.  He  judged  that  it  was  an  important 


38  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

service  to  his  country,  to  inspire  every  class  of  citizens  with  just  and 
correct  notions  of  the  best  method  of  practising  their  callings,  and  of 
discharging  the  duties  incident  to  them.1  Indeed,  this  was  an  object 
of  which  he  never  lost  sight;  rightly  thinking,  that  upon  the  con- 
scientious and  diligent  behaviour  of  each  individual  in  his  particular 
station  and  calling,  depended  the  safety  and  prosperity  of  the  whole 
commonwealth.  In  the  same  strain  he  taught  his  hearers,  that  he 
who  was  the  best  manager  of  his  own  affairs,  was  likely  to  be  the 
best  administrator  of  the  affairs  of  the  republic. 

We  have  before  observed,  that  Socrates  did  not  deliver  lectures  like 
the  sophists,  but  conducted  his  discourses  upon  subjects  of  practical 
philosophy  in  the  way  of  question  and  answer.  His  usual  method 
was,  to  apply  to  the  person,  whom  he  wished  to  bring  over  to  his  own 
opinion,  with  a  pretended  ignorance,  as  one  who  desired  to  obtain  in- 
formation ;  and  without  asserting  anything  himself,  he  would  put  to 
him,  in  succession,  a  series  of  questions,  which  admitted  but  of  one 
answer;  and  so,  by  degrees,  would  bring  him  to  acknowledge  the 
truth  which  Socrates  wished  to  establish.  He  always  began  by  gain- 
ing the  assent  of  his  adversary  to  some  unquestionable  propositions : 
these  he  artfully  connected  with  some  of  a  more  dubious  kind,  and 
then,  by  tying  down  his  opponent  to  his  former  concessions,  he  proved 
his  own  point. 

The  '  irony '  This  Socratic  mode  of  disputation  the  Greeks  called  eip&veia, 
of  Socrates,  "irony,"  from  eipwv,  "a  person  who  dissembles  his  real  knowledge 
or  opinions ;"  one  who  pretends  to  know  nothing  of  what  he  really 
does  know.2  Horace  calls  a  person  of  this  sort  dissimulator  opis  pro-* 
price.  To  this  ironical  or  bantering  mode  of  disputation  the  Athenians 
in  general  seem  to  have  been  partial ;  in  the  case  of  Socrates  it  gave 
so  much  offence  to  some,  that  they  called  him  "  the  Attic  buffoon,  or 
jester."  Aristotle  contrasts  the  boasting  pretender,  who,  for  the  sake 
of  fame  or  profit,  affects  accomplishments  which  he  does  not  possess, 
with  the  etpwv,  him  who  dissembles  his  powers,  and  disparages  his 
own  qualifications,  "  for  the  sake  of  appearing  more  amiable  and 
pleasing ;  for,"  he  observes,  "  persons  of  this  description  seem  to 
speak,  not  for  the  sake  of  gain,  but  from  a  wish  to  avoid  ostentation. 
And  in  particular,  they  reject  all  pretences  to  fame ;  as  was  the  case 
with  Socrates." 

Being  well  aware  that  the  sophists  were  a  principal  cause  of  that 
deterioration  in  the  character  of  his  countrymen  which  he  so  often 

1  He  carried  this  custom  so  far,  as  not  only  to  give  advice  to  Parrhasius,  the 
celebrated  painter,  and  Clito,  the  sculptor,  upon  the  best  method  of  communicating 
to  their  representations  of  the  human  form  an  expression  of  moral  sentiment;  but 
he  conversed  with  Theodote,  a  courtesan,  upon  the  most  efficacious  methods  of 
alluring  lovers. 

2  Aristoph.  Av.  1209.      Kara  vfo'iets  wuXa.;  E/o-JjA^sj  !;  <ro  TU^O;,  u  f*ia/>ura,79i  ] 
I.  Oi/x  oT3a,  fta.  A<"   tyuyt   XKTO,  vroia$  •rwXa;,  n'.  "Hxovir&f  ayrjjf,  olov  il^uv&vtra.i  ; 
"  By  what  gates  did  you  get  into  the  city,  you"  baggage  ?     /.     I  protest  I  don't 
know  by  what  gates.     P.  D'  ye  hear  how  she  banters  us  ?" 


SOCRATES.  39 

complained  of,  he  applied  himself  to  undermine  their  credit,  and  to 
open  the  eyes  of  their  disciples.  With  this  object  in  view,  he  pursued  He  opposes 
a  line  of  conduct,  in  all  respects,  the  reverse  of  that  which  distinguished  SjJ^hfets 
the  sophists.  Instead  of  appearing  in  the  places  of  public  resort  in  a 
gorgeous  robe,  he  was  remarkable  for  the  meanness  of  his  dress,  and 
of  his  whole  appearance.  Instead  of  professing  the  talent  of  harangu- 
ing copiously  and  elegantly,  he  declared  himself  wholly  ignorant  of 
such  arts;  and  instead  of  delivering  at  length  lectures  upon  given 
subjects,  he  conversed  in  the  way  of  short  questions  and  answers.  He 
used  to  make  his  appearance,  as  it  were  by  accident,  amidst  the  nume- 
rous tribe  of  Athenians  who  were  listening  to  Gorgias,  or  some  other 
famous  sophist;  and  professing  his  admiration  of  such  talents  and 
eloquence,  lamented  the  straitness  of  his  means,  which  debarred  him 
from  the  advantage  of  becoming  a  scholar  of  so  able  a  master.  He 
would  then,  with  seeming  diffidence,  propose  a  simple  question  to  the 
sophist,  to  which  an  eloquent  but  diffuse  reply  would  be  given.  Upon 
which,  Socrates  requests  him  so  far  to  humour  his  infirmity  and  slow 
comprehension,  as  to  proceed  step  by  step.  When  this  was  done,  he 
soon  manifested  the  clearness  and  justice  of  his  own  ideas,  and  the 
confused  and  inconsistent  notions  of  the  sophists  ;  reducing  him  by  a 
series  of  simple,  but  closely-connected  questions,  to  admit  the  truth 
which  Socrates  desired  to  prove.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  sophist 
ridiculed  or  found  fault  with  his  opponent  for  descending  to  minutiae, 
and  arguing  in  detail,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  eloquence  and  common- 
place; in  vain  did  he  treat  with  contempt  the  maxims  of  common 
sense  and  of  plain  downright  morality,  which  were  at  variance  with 
his  own  notions  as  to  the  best  methods  of  prospering  in  life.  Socrates 
returned  with  coolness  and  temper  to  the  charge ;  and  by  a  series  of 
such  attacks,  closely  followed  up,  he  exposed  the  shallowness  and  in- 
consistency of  those  pretenders  to  wisdom. 

It  does  not  appear  very  clearly,  at  what  period  of  his  life  Socrates 
began  to  attract  public  notice  as  a  teacher  of  philosophy,  nor  how  long 
a  period  of  time  he  continued  his  attacks  upon  the  sophists,  before  he 
produced  a  strong  impression  upon  the  public  mind.  For  some  time 
he  was  himself  considered  to  be  one  of  that  class  of  teachers ;  and 
when  Aristophanes  introduced  him  upon  the  stage,  he  was  probably 
just  risen  into  eminence,  although  it  should  seem,  from  the  represent- 
ation given  of  him  in  *  The  Clouds,'  that  his  real  character  and  mode 
of  philosophising  were  not  known  to  the  great  comic  poet.  Socrates 
was  then  about  forty-six  years  of  age.  To  this  subject  we  shall  revert 
presently. 

We  may  probably  refer  to  his  ironical  mode  of  teaching  the  cele-  The « demon' 
brated  ^aip.6viov,  or  genius  of  Socrates,  which,  he  said,  in  various  of  Socrates* 
emergencies,  admonished  him  what  course  to  pursue,  and  enabled  him 
to  predict,  in  many  cases,  what  was  about  to  happen.    It  was,  in  fact, 
neither  more  nor  less  than  common  sense  or  right  judgment ;  a  faculty 
which  he  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree,  and  which  he  made  the 


40  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

guide  of  his  life.  Other  philosophers  called  this  "  opinion  ;"  Socrates 
chose  to  speak  of  it  as  his  attendant  genius.  At  the  same  time,  it 
must  be  confessed,  we  are  told  by  some  authors  that  this  daipoviov 
made  itself  heard  only  in  those  questions  which  were  not  determinable 
by  human  prudence.  It  is  evident  that  most  of  those  who  have  men- 
tioned the  genius  of  Socrates,  including  his  immediate  scholars,  have 
understood  it  literally  to  have  been  a  being  of  a  superior  nature ;  a 
very  natural  opinion  for  those  who  were  acquainted  with  the  doctrines 
of  the  older  philosophers,  who  maintained  the  existence  of  a  race  of 
spiritual  beings,  intermediate  between  the  gods  and  men.  Socrates, 
who  had  full  confidence  in  the  conclusions  of  that  judgment  which  he 
had  cultivated  with  so  much  care,  and  was  convinced  that  it  would 
not  mislead  him  in  matters  cognisable  by  human  reason — yet  studious 
at  the  same  time  to  avoid  an  appearance  of  laying  down  the  conclu- 
sions of  his  own  reason,  as  the  sophists  used  to  do,  for  infallible  truths — 
chose  to  speak  of  them  as  the  suggestions  of  this  invisible  friend ;  being 
at  all  times  very  careful  not  to  exalt  too  highly  the  powers  of  the 
human  mind ;  and  being  aware,  that  even  the  dictates  of  right  reason 
might,  without  impropriety,  be  referred  to  the  inspiration  of  a  superior 
power.  It  is  even  possible,  that,  convinced  as  he  was  of  the  existence 
of  a  supreme  intelligence,  and  accustomed  to  find,  that  when  he  acted 
upon  the  suggestions  of  his  reason,  without  having  sought  for  them  by 
laborious  induction,  he  was  always  in  the  right — it  is  possible,  we  say, 
that  he  might  have  referred  them  to  the  immediate  influence  of  a 
spiritual  adviser,  as  the  enthusiasts  of  modern  days  are  too  apt  to  do, 
oftentimes  with  less  reason.  But  it  is  truly  surprising  that  any  Chris- 
tian writer  should  have  been  found  to  adduce  the  genius  of  Socrates, 
in  order  to  prove  the  truth  of  the  Scripture  doctrine  of  angels.  It 
appears,  that  the  great  master  himself  would  never  vouchsafe  to  his 
most  intimate  friends  any  explanation  touching  this  ctau/zoVtov.  And 
it  is  very  probable,  that  the  few  instances  which  they  record,  where 
Socrates  appeared  to  have  determined  rightly  rather  from  divination 
than  from  the  inductions  of  reason,  are  not  related  agreeably  to  the  real 
facts.  Every  explanation  which  has  hitherto  been  given  of  this  curious 
subject  has  its  difficulties.  It  appears  to  us,  that  the  most  probable 
solution  of  the  knot  is  that  which  we  have  proposed  in  the  last  place. 
We  cannot,  at  any  rate,  coincide  in  opinion  with  Brucker,  who  thinks 
that  Socrates  enjoyed  "  a  certain  faculty  or  presentiment,  approaching 
to  divination."  But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  will  not  be  enough  to  con- 
clude, with  Plutarch,  P.  Simon,  and  others,  that  this  genius  was  no 
other  than  common  sense ;  unless  at  the  same  time  we  suppose  that 
Socrates  himself,  struck  by  the  justice  and  promptitude  of  his  own 
conclusions  in  emergencies,  which  gave  no  scope  to  deliberation,  did 
actually  refer  to  the  inspiration  of  a  divine  monitor,  what  were  in  fact 
the  dictates  of  his  own  singular  natural  good  sense.  For  many  years 
he  had  been  an  attentive  observer  of  human  nature,  and  had  narrowly 
scrutinised  the  motives  and  watched  the  consequences  of  actions ;  the 


SOCRATES.  41 

result  of  which  was  a  matured  and  solid  experience,  and  a  degree  of 
sagacity,  which  seemed  at  times  to  be  almost  more  than  human.  The 
cracle  which  is  said  to  have  been  delivered  by  the  Pythian  priestess, 
declaring  Socrates  to  be  the  wisest  of  mankind,  is  well  known :  but 
there  is  good  reason  to  suspect  that  it  was  a  forgery,  probably  invented 
by  Chaerephon,  or  by  some  other  disciple  of  Socrates,  after  his  master's 
death.  It  was,  however,  reported  very  soon  after  that  event ;  and  at 
any  rate  serves  to  show  the  prevailing  opinion  in  Greece  respecting 
the  superior  wisdom  of  the  deceased  philosopher.  Great,  however,  as 
that  wisdom  was,  it  was  not  greater  than  his  modesty.  The  following 
observations,  which  Cicero  has  put  into  the  mouth  of  Varro  in  his  first 
book  of  *  Academic  Questions,'  place  in  a  strong  light  the  good  sense 
and  modesty  of  Socrates : — "  It  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  and,  I  think, 
justly,  that  Socrates  was  the  first  person,  who  called  away  philosophy 
from  the  study  of  occult  things,  purposely  concealed  by  nature  herself, 
in  which  all  the  philosophers  before  him  had  been  occupied,  and  in- 
troduced her  to  common  life :  making  virtue  and  vice,  good  and  evil, 
the  objects  of  his  inquiry ;  but  esteeming  the  higher  branches  of  natural 
philosophy  (ccelestia^)  far  removed  from  our  cognizance,  or  at  all  events, 
if  they  were  ever  so  well  understood,  of  no  importance  towards  living 
well.  In  all  his  discourses,  which  have  been  committed  to  writing  by 
those  who  heard  him,  with  great  variety  and  copiousness  of  language, 
his  method  of  disputing  is,  to  affirm  nothing  himself,  but  to  refute 
others :  he  professes  to  know  nothing,  except  the  fact  itself  of  his 
knowing  nothing :  and  says,  that  in  this  respect  he  excels  other  men, 
who  fancy  that  they  know  that  which  they  do  not  know ;  whereas  all 
his  own  knowledge  consisted  in  the  consciousness  of  knowing  nothing ; 
and  he  supposes  that  Apollo  had  pronounced  him  to  be  the  wisest  of 
mankind,1  because  the  whole  of  true  wisdom  consists  in  a  man's  not 
thinking  himself  to  know  that  of  which  he  is  ignorant.  This  being 
the  constant  tenor  of  his  discourses,  and  his  fixed  opinion,  all  his 
eloquence  was  expended  in  praising  virtue,  and  in  exhortmg  all  men 
to  the  study  of  virtue ;  a  fact  sufficiently  evident  from  the  writings  of 
the  Socratic  philosophers,  and  especially  of  Plato."  It  need  hardly 
be  remarked  that  this  confession  of  ignorance,  on  the  part  of  Socrates, 
was  very  different  from  the  universal  doubt  and  uncertainty  professed 
by  the  sceptics ;  his  object  being  simply  to  inspire  mankind  with  a 
distrust  of  that  intuitive  kind  of  knowledge  to  which  the  sophists  laid 
claim,  and  to  teach  them  that  the  road  to  true  wisdom  must  be  pur- 
sued through  all  the  successive  steps  of  patient  investigation. 

With  regard  to  his  religious  opinions,  Socrates  appears  to  have  been  His  religion, 
firmly  convinced  of  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Being,  and  of  his 
superintending  providence  over  the  affairs  of  men.     He  was  never 
heard,  says  Xenophon,  to  say  anything  which  savoured  of  impiety ; 

1  These  words,  it  must  be  remembered,  are  put  into  the  mouth  of  Socrates  by 
Plato,  and  afford  one  proof,  amongst  many,  that  it  is  unsafe  to  place  much  reliance 
upon  the  accuracy  of  his  representations. 


42  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

but  every  part  both  of  his  conversation  and  his  conduct  was  such,  as 
might  be  expected  from  a  man,  deeply  sensible  of  the  truth  and  im- 
portance of  religion.  Upon  these  subjects,  however,  he  found  it 
necessary  to  speak  with  a  certain  degree  of  caution  and  reserve ;  and 
even  with  all  his  care  he  did  not  escape  the  charge  of  impiety.  It 
need  hardly  be  proved  that  he  disbelieved  the  popular  mythology  of 
his  time ;  and  he  appears  to  have  admitted  the  existence  of  an  inter- 
mediate race  of  spiritual  beings,  between  the  Supreme  Deity  and  men. 
It  is,  however,  not  unreasonable  to  suspect,  that  when  Socrates 
*  referred  to  his  friends,  in  questions  not  to  be  resolved  by  human 
sagacity,  to  auguries  and  divinations,  he  complied  with  what  he  con- 
sidered to  be  a  harmless  superstition,  without  intending  to  assert  his 
own  belief  in  it.  At  the  same  time  that  he  maintained  the  purity  and 
spirituality  of  the  Supreme  God,  and  strongly  denied  the  weaknesses 
and  vices  imputed  by  the  poets  to  the  deities  of  the  Pantheon,  he 
practised  himself,  and  recommended  to  others,  a  regular  compliance 
with  the  established  forms  of  worship,  and  even  consulted  oracles.  At 
the  same  time  he  seems  to  have  intimated  his  sense  of  the  impropriety 
of  addressing  the  Deity  by  any  particular  name,  by  his  custom  of  in- 
troducing into  his  colloquial  asseverations  sometimes  the  name  of  Here 
(Juno)  and  sometimes  that  of  a  dog  or  a  goose.  The  last  words 
which  Socrates  uttered  before  his  death,  were  to  put  his  friends  in 
mind,  that  he  was  indebted  to  JEsculapius  a  cock,  which  he  had  vowed, 
but  never  sacrificed.  Such  an  expression,  used  at  a  moment  when  he 
was  perfectly  aware  of  his  approaching  dissolution,  might  seem  to  in- 
dicate an  actual  belief  in  the  existence  of  the  inferior  gods.  But  it 
has  been  conjectured,  and  not  improbably,  that  when  those  words  were 
uttered,  the  poison  which  he  had  taken  had  affected  his  reason. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  language  which  he  held  in  his  public 
discourses,  the  sagacity  of  Aristophanes  did  not  fail  to  perceive,  that 
he  rejected  in  fact  the  popular  superstitions  of  his  country. 
His  moral  His  firmness  of  mind,  in  refusing  to  act  contrary  to  the  dictates  of 
character,  j^g  conscjence .  njs  temperance  and  frugality,  have  been  already  men- 
tioned. The  concurrent  testimony  of  all  antiquity  proves  him  to  have 
been  one  of  the  most  irreproachable  characters  of  the  heathen  world. 
And  the  virtues,  for  which  he  was  most  remarkable,  will  appear  more 
worthy  of  admiration,  if  we  reflect  that  he  was  destitute  of  those 
lights  and  helps  which  are  possessed  by  the  Christian  moralist.  "  The 
singular  merit  of  Socrates,"  observes  Mr.  Mitford,  "  lay  in  the  purity 
and  usefulness  of  his  manners  and  conversation ;  the  clearness  with 
which  he  saw,  and  the  steadiness  with  which  he  practised,  in  a  blind 
and  corrupt  age,  all  moral  duties ;  the  disinterestedness  and  the  zeal 
with  which  he  devoted  himself  to  the  benefit  .of  others ;  and  the  en- 
larged and  warm  benevolence,  whence  his  supreme  and  only  pleasure 
seems  to  have  consisted  in  doing  good.  The  purity  of  Christian  mo- 
rality, little  enough  indeed  seen  in  practice,  nevertheless  is  become  so 
familiar  in  theory  that  it  passes  almost  for  obvious  and  even  congenial 


SOCRATES.  43 

to  the  human  mind.  Those  only  will  justly  estimate  the  merit  of  that 
near  approach  to  it  which  Socrates  made,  who  will  take  the  pains  to 
gather,  as  they  may  from  the  writings  of  his  contemporaries  and  prede- 
cessors, how  little  conception  of  it  was  entertained  before  his  time ; 
how  dull  to  a  just  moral  sense  the  human  mind  has  really  been ;  how 
slow  the  progress  in  the  investigation  of  the  moral  duties,  even  where 
not  only  great  pains  have  been  taken,  but  the  greatest  abilities  zealously 
employed ;  and,  when  discovered,  how  difficult  it  has  been  to  establish 
them  by  proofs  beyond  controversy,  or  proofs  even  that  should  be  gene- 
rally admitted  by  the  reason  of  men.  It  is  through  the  light  diffused 
by  his  doctrine,  enforced  by  his  practice,  with  the  advantage  of  having 
both  the  doctrine  and  practice  exhibited  to  the  highest  advantage,  in 
the  incomparable  writings  of  disciples,  such  as  Xenophon  and  Plato, 
that  his  life  forms  an  era  in  the  history  of  Athens,  and  of  man." 

Our  readers  are  wrell  aware  that  one  imputation  has  been  cast  upon  Calumnies 
the  moral  character  of  Socrates,  of  the  most  disgraceful  kind  :  but  it  |1ei^ecting 
has  been  by  writers  of  an  age  much  more  recent  than  that  of  Socrates, 
and  chiefly  by  Porphyrv,  and  some  fathers  of  the  Christian  church. 
The  authorities  upon  which  it  rests  have  been  collected  by  Mr.  Cum- 
berland in  the  *  Observer,'  or  rather  by  Dr.  Bentley,  whose  papers  his 
grandson  is  now  known  to  have  pillaged  without  scruple.  But  these 
authorities  may  justly  be  considered  as  destitute  of  weight,  when  put 
in  competition  with  the  total  absence  of  any  aspersion  of  the  kind  in 
'  The  Clouds '  of  Aristophanes,  and  with  the  direct  and  united  testi- 
mony of  Plato  and  Xenophon  to  the  purity  and  integrity  of  Socrates. 
These  charges,  as  Mr.  Mitford  justly  observes,  carry  every  appearance 
of  having  originated  in  the  virulence  of  party-spirit ;  and  they  have 
been  propagated  by  writers  in  the  profligate  ages  that  followed :  a 
propensity  to  involve  men  of  the  best  report,  in  former  times,  in  the 
scandal  of  that  gross  immorality  which  disgraced  the  fall  of  Greece  and 
Rome,  is  conspicuous  among  some  of  the  writers  under  the  Roman 
empire.  There  cannot  be  a  stronger  negative  argument  "to  rebut  the 
charge  of  scandalous  immorality,  than  the  silence,  both  of  Aristophanes, 
(who  scrupled  at  no  indecency  of  expression  or  of  representation1)  and 
of  the  accusers  of  Socrates,  who  were  not  deterred  from  calumniating 
the  object  of  their  hatred,  by  any  regard  for  truth.  (The  reader  may 
see  this  question  discussed  more  at  length  in  a  dissertation  by  the 
Abbe  Fraguier,  *  Choix  des  Memoires  de  1' Academic  Royale,'  t.  iii.  p. 
29).  The  wisdom  of  Socrates,  his  benevolence,  and  the  purity  of  his 
morals,  were  so  remarkably  superior  to  those  of  his  contemporaries,  that 
some  Jewish  and  Christian  writers  have  maintained,  with  more  zeal 
than  judgment,  that  he  derived  his  knowledge  of  divine  things  from 
an  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament;  while 
some  of  the  defenders  of  natural  religion  affect  to  contrast  the  ethics  of 
Socrates  with  those  which  are  inculcated  in  the  Gospel.  But  even  if 

1  The  classical  reader,  who  calls  to  mind  the  representation  which  the  comic  poet 
has  given  of  Euripides,  will  consider  this  argument  as  almost  conclusive. 


44  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

we  admit  the  justice  of  those  commendations  which  are  bestowed  upon 
his  moral  precepts,  we  find  the  great  and  pervading  deficiency,  which 
revelation  alone  could  supply,  that  of  motive  ;  necessarily  resulting 
from  a  state  of  uncertainty  as  to  the  retribution  of  a  future  life. 
His  doctrines  Socrates  taught  that  the  divine  attributes  might  be  inferred  from 
SKhose  of  *ke  works  °f  creation  ;  a  notion  asserted  also  by  St.  Paul.  He  main- 
Scripture.  tained  the  omniscience,  ubiquity,  and  providence  of  the  Deity  ;  and 
from  the  existence  of  conscience  in  the  human  breast,  he  inferred  that 
man  is  a  moral  agent,  the  object  of  reward  and  punishment  ;  and  that 
the  great  distinction  between  virtue  and  vice  was  ordained  by  the 
Deity.  This  is  the  sum  of  those  theological  doctrines  which  Socrates 
taught  with  plainness  and  simplicity  ;  but  which  Plato  expanded  and 
corrupted  with  his  own  refined  and  abtruse  speculations.  It  is  easy 
to  perceive  how  far  superior,  both  in  point  of  reasonableness  and  in 
their  moral  tendency,  these  doctrines  were,  to  the  metaphysical  specu- 
lations of  the  Ionic  school. 

The  soul  of  man,  according  to  Socrates,  is  given  'him  by  the  Deity, 
whom  it  resembles  in  its  powers  and  properties  ;  consequently  it  is 
immortal,  and  will  receive,  after  the  death  of  the  body,  the  rewards  of 
virtue.  If  Socrates  expressed  any  doubt  on  this  head,  it  related  to  the 
place  of  the  soul  in  another  life,  not  to  its  existence  or  happiness. 

The  justness  of  his  notions,  upon  these  important  subjects,  naturally 
exalted  and  purified  his  moral  system.  The  chief  happiness  of  life 
he  placed  in  a  practical  knowledge  of  virtue,  of  the  ends  which  man  is 
intended  to  answer,  and  of  the  right  methods  of  pursuing  them.  This 
knowledge,  when  complete,  teaches  him  that  in  every  case  that  which 
is  just  is  expedient  ;  arid  that  the  purest  pleasures  are  those  which 
spring  from  an  habitual  rectitude  of  conduct.  The  great  secret  of  ob- 
taining this  desirable  wisdom  is  to  know  ourselves  ;  a  secret  which 
Socrates,  in  his  daily  conversations  with  those  who  had  the  greatest 
reputation  for  wisdom,  proved  to  be  little  understood. 

His  moral  Socrates  taught  that  "  to  obey  is  better  than  sacrifice  ;"  that  the 
precepts.  most  acceptable  service  to  the  gods  is  to  perform  their  commands  : 
that  man  ought  simply  to  ask  the  gods  to  give  what  is  good  for  him  ; 
for  that  they  know,  far  better  than  he  does,  what  is  really  to  his  ad- 
vantage :  that  the  gods  are  to  be  worshipped,  according  to  the  institu- 
tions of  our  country  ;  a  precept  which  is  also  attributed  to  Pythagoras. 
He  said  that  besides  the  written  laws  of  men,  there  are  certain  un- 
written laws,1  ordained  by  the  Deity,  such  as  those  which  enjoin  the 

1  "AygaQoivofAoi.  This  notion  was  not  first  entertained  by  Socrates.  We  find  it 
expressed  by  Sophocles,  in  his  Antigone,  v.  453. 

eii'St  fffavtiv  rofovTov  uoftyv  <ra  ace. 

6tuv 


Nor  judged  I  thy  decrees  of  such  avail, 
As  that  a  mortal  might  transgress  the  gods' 
Unwritten  and  immutable  behests. 
Thucydides,  in  the  funeral  oration  spoken  by  Pericles,  distinguishes  between  the 


SOCRATES.  45 

worship  of  the  gods,  and  the  reverence  due  to  parents;  that  it  is 
reasonable  to  conclude  that  these  laws  have  the  divine  sanction,  be- 
cause the  violation  of  them  carries  with  it  its  own  punishment,  a  pro- 
vision surpassing  the  wisdom  and  power  of  a  human  legislator.  (This 
argument  is  insisted  upon  by  Bishop  Butler,  in  the  second  chapter  of 
his  '  Analogy '). 

In  the  course  of  a  life  spent  in  disseminating  the  principles  of  truth  His  Politics, 
and  morality,  as  discoverable  by  the  light  of  nature,  Socrates  delivered 
maxims  and  rules  for  the  conduct  of  men  in  every  relation  of  civil 
and  social  life.  Those  which  are  recorded  by  Xenophon  are  marked 
by  that  sound  and  practical  common  sense  which  was  the  leading 
feature  of  his  philosophy.  With  regard  to  politics,  the  peculiar  con- 
stitution of  the  Athenian  polity,  and  the  temper  of  the  times,  made 
him  cautious  in  delivering  his  sentiments.  Yet  he  said  enough,  at 
different  times,  to  make  his  countrymen  suspect  that  he  disliked  the 
existing  constitution  of  Athens.  He  remarked  (at  least  JElian  tells 
us  that  he  remarked)  that  democracy  is  tyrannical,  and  abounds  with 
the  evils  of  monarchy.  It  was  urged  by  his  enemies  that  he  rendered 
his  hearers  disaffected  towards  the  democracy;  and  indeed,  although 
he  was  too  good  a  citizen  to  promote  sedition  and  political  violence,  it 
was  not  possible  that  he  should  approve  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
Athenian  government  was  conducted.  He  wished,  as  Mr.  Mitford 
has  remarked,  for  wholesale  changes  by  gentle  means  ;  and  it  seems 
to  have  been  an  object  which  he  never  lost  sight  of,  in  all  his  teaching, 
to  infuse  those  principles  into  the  Athenian  youth,  which  might  insen- 
sibly produce  the  wished-for  change.  Although  he  took  no  part  in 
politics  himself,  he  endeavoured  to  obtain  an  influence  over  those  young 
men,  who  were  most  likely,  from  their  wealth,  their  talents,  and  their 
ambition  to  bear  sway  in  the  popular  assemblies.  Thus  employed,  and 
courted  as  he  was  by  many  of  the  richest  and  most  powerful  of  the 
Athenian  youth,  it  is  no  wonder,  if  the  vulgar  demagogues  considered 
him  as  a  dangerous  rival,  and  were  desirous  of  exciting  popular  jealousy 
against  him. 

Socrates  was  about  forty-six  years  of  age  when  he  was  introduced  Socrates  held 
by  Aristophanes  in  his  comedy  of    '  The  Clouds,'   and  held  up  to  Jg^jJ 
public  derision.     It  is  well  known,  that  what  is  called  the  old  comedy.  Clouds  of 
the  leading  writers  of  which  were  Eupolis,  Cratinus,  and  Aristophanes,  Anst°Phai 
introduced,  without  scruple,  living  personages  upon  the  stage,  not  only 
exhibiting  the  peculiarities  of  their  moral  and  political  characters,  but 
representing,  by  means  of  masks  and  dresses,  their  personal  appear- 
ance.    The  great  object  of  the  comic  poets  was,  to  please  a  popular 
audience,  and  to  obtain  their  suffrages  for  the  prize  awarded  to  the 
most  deserving.    But  they  not  unfrequently  had  a  higher  object  in  view  : 
Aristophanes  in  particular  directed  his  wit  against  the  mischievous, 
but  too  popular  demagogues  of  his  time,  with  the  truest  patriotism  ; 

laws  enacted  for  the  common  good,  and  the  unwritten  laws,  the  violation  of  which 
brings  with  it  acknowledged  disgrace.     So  also  Demosthenes,  de  Coron.  §  83. 


46  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

and  with  a  courage,  which  nothing  but  a  confidence  in  his  own 
surpassing  abilities,  and  the  justice  of  the  cause  which  he  espoused, 
could  have  inspired.  Whatever  he  conceived  to  be  at  variance  with 
that  free  and  manly  spirit,  which  had  once  distinguished  his  country- 
men, but  which  in  his  time  was  nearly  destroyed  by  political  chica- 
nery, and  the  flagitious  doctrines  of  the  sophists,  he  assailed  with  all 
the  powers  of  ridicule :  and  although  in  many  cases,  as  was  to  be  ex- 
pected, the  innocent  suffered  with  the  guilty,  and  defamation  usurped 
the  place  of  legitimate  satire;  yet,  upon  the  whole,  it  is  evident, 
that  the  object  of  Aristophanes  was,  to  bring  his  countrymen  to  a  right 
way  of  thinking,  and  to  open  their  eyes  to  the  artifices,  by  which  they 
had  been  so  long  imposed  upon.  It  is  not  easy  to  assign  a  satisfactory 
reason  for  the  injurious  representation  which  Aristophanes  has  given 
of  Socrates,  in  the  comedy  before  mentioned.  But  we  may  probably 
conjecture,  that  wishing  to  attack  the  sophists  in  general,  of  whom 
Socrates  at  that  time  was  considered  to  be  one,  he  took  him  as  a  re- 
presentative of  the  whole  body,  and  attributed  to  him  that  species  of 
philosophy,  which  it  was  the  constant  object  of  Socrates  to  decry  and 
discredit. 

The  object  of  the  comic  poet  in  *  The  Clouds,'  is  to  show  how  the 
sophistry  of  the  schools  may  be  employed  to  the  perversion  of  justice 
and  morality.  He  ridicules,  by  the  way,  certain  new  and  fanciful 
notions  touching  the  relation  of  children  and  parents ;  and  introduces 
the  clouds,  as  the  deities  of  the  new  philosophers,  who  acknowledged 
no  such  divinity  as  Jupiter,  or  his  associate  gods.  Mr.  Cumberland 
has  justly  remarked,  that  although  Socrates  is  exhibited  in  a  very  ridi- 
culous point  of  view,  as  hoisted  up  in  a  basket,  to  pursue  his  astrono- 
mical studies,  and  measuring  the  space  over  which  a  flea  can  skip,  yet 
he  lays  down  no  principles  of  fraud  or  injustice,  as  parts  of  his  own 
system.  It  is  not  the  teacher  who  recommends,  but  his  disciples  who 
pervert  his  instructions  to  the  evil  purpose  of  defrauding  their  creditors. 
The  son  in  the  play  beats  his  father  on  the  stage,  and  he  quotes  in  his 
own  justification  the  maxims  of  Socrates  ;  but  he  does  not  quote  them 
as  positive  rules  and  injunctions  for  an  act  so  atrocious ;  he  only  shows 
that  sophistry  may  be  turned,  to  defend  that  or  any  other  thing 
equally  violent  and  outrageous. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  the  schools  of  the  sophists,  which  the 
government  of  Athens  thought  it  necessary  to  put  down  by  a  public 
decree,  were  no  unfit  subjects  for  dramatic  ridicule  ;  but  still  the  great 
difficulty  recurs,  why  should  Socrates  have  been  selected  by  the  poet, 
as  the  representative  of  that  mischievous  tribe,  rather  than  Gorgias,  or 
Hippias,  or  Polus,  or  some  well-known  member  of  the  fraternity? 
Perhaps  it  was,  as  some  modern  critics  have  supposed,  that  some  of 
the  disciples  and  friends  of  Socrates,  rather  than  the  philosopher  him- 
self, were  the  real  objects  of  dislike  to  Aristophanes ;  and  that  he 
introduced  the  teacher  himself  upon  the  stage,  for  the  purpose  of  ridi- 
culing his  school.  Three,  at  least,  of  the  followers  of  Socrates,  were 


SOCRATES.  47 

just  objects  of  satire  :  the  rapacious  Simon,  the  cowardly  Cleonymus, 
and  the  dissolute  Theorus,  of  whom  Aristophanes  says — "  O  Jupiter, 
if  thy  bolt  is  aimed  at  perjury,  why  has  it  not  consumed  Simon,  nor 
Cleonymus,  nor  Theorus,  all  perjured  as  they  are?"  An  intimate 
friend  of  Socrates  was  Euripides ;  against  whom,  as  the  inculcator  of 
an  ambiguous  morality,  and  the  debaser  of  genuine  tragedy,  Aristo- 
phanes entertained  a  peculiar  antipathy.  And  besides,  accustomed  as 
the  Athenians  were  to  see  their  public  men  ridiculed  and  reviled  in  the 
grossest  manner  upon  the  stage,  it  did,  perhaps,  no  great  harm  to  the 
character  of  Socrates,  that  his  philosophy  should  be  jocosely  bur- 
lesqued ;  for,  be  it  remembered,  there  is  little  or  nothing  of  calumny 
and  ill-nature  in  the  delineation  which  Aristophanes  gives  of  Socrates 
himself.  It  must  have  been  so  exceedingly  and  palpably  unlike  the 
original,  that  one  is  almost  tempted  to  suspect  the  poet  of  having 
made  it  so  on  purpose,  that  the  spectators  might  at  once  perceive  it 
to  be  intended  for  a  good-natured  caricature  of  Socrates,  with  whose 
real  mode  of  life  they  were  all  perfectly  well  acquainted ;  and  whose 
prosing  discourses,  most  of  them  probably  thought,  as  Eupolis  did, 
very  tiresome.  The  singularity  which  Socrates  affected  in  his  manners 
and  dress,  going  barefoot,  and,  at  times,  standing  for  a  whole  day 
together  in  the  same  attitude  of  meditation,  rendered  him  a  tempting 
subject  for  ridicule.  The  poet  says  in  '  The  Clouds,'  "  We  could 
not  think  of  attending  to  any  other  of  the  sophists  of  the  present  day, 
except  Prodicus,  to  him,  on  account  of  his  wisdom  and  good  sense; 
but  to  you  (Socrates)  because  you  swagger  in  the  streets,  and  roll 
your  eyes  about,  and  go  barefoot,  pretending  to  put  up  with  many 
annoyances,  and  wear  a  solemn  countenance  towards  us."  Aristo- 
phanes represents  Socrates  as  taking  a  fee  for  his  instructions,  although 
the  contrary  was  notoriously  the  fact.  It  appears,  however,  that  at 
the  first  representation  *  The  Clouds'  did  not  take  with  the  audience, 
but  was  condemned,  owing,  as  it  is  said,  to  Alcibiades,  and  a  party  of 
the  friends  of  Socrates.  The  following  year  it  was  reproduced,  in  an 
amended  state,  with  better  success.  The  story  told  by  ^Elian,  of  the 
poet's  having  been  bribed  by  Anytus  and  Melitus  to  write  '  The 
Clouds,'  in  order  to  pave  the  way  for  their  criminal  accusation,  has 
been  long  ago  exploded :  this  comedy  is  known  to  have  been  acted 
more  than  twenty  years  before  the  trial  and  condemnation  of  Socrates. 
Yet  it  is  far  from  impossible,  that  the  ridicule  cast  upon  him  in  that 
play,  may  have  contributed  to  the  popular  prejudice,  which,  many 
years  afterwards,  became  so  fatally  strong.  We  are  not  informed 
by  Xenophon  or  Plato,  whether  Socrates  had  given  any  cause  of 
offence  to  Aristophanes;  indeed,  Plato  represents  them  as  becoming 
familiar  companions  at  a  subsequent  period.  Upon  the  whole,  our 
readers  may  still  be  disposed  to  adhere  to  the  notion  first  suggested, 
that  Aristophanes,  when  he  wrote  '  The  Clouds,'  knew  but  little  of 
Socrates,  whom  he,  perhaps,  imagined  to  be  a  quibbling  sophist,  like 
the  others  of  that  profession. 

About  two  or  three-arid-twenty  years  after  the  first  representation 


48  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

of  '  The  Clouds,'  a  young  man,  named  Melitus  (or  rather  Meletus) 
delivered  to  the  archon  an  information  against  Socrates,  to  the  follow- 
Socrates  ing  effect :  "  Melitus,  son  of  Meletus,  of  the  borough  of  Pitthos, 
periling  the  makes  this  charge  upon  oath  against  Socrates,  son  of  Sophroniscus,  of 
gods,  and  of  the  borough  of  Alopece  :  Socrates  is  guilty  of  reviling  the  gods  ac- 
th"youtif  knowledged  by  the  state,  and  of  preaching  other  new  gods  ;  moreover, 
he  is  guilty  of  corrupting  the  youth.  Penalty,  death."  Melitus, 
who  was  a  poet,  and  a  man  of  no  consideration,  was  associated  in  this 
affair  with  Lycon,  an  orator  of  eminence,  and  Anytus,  a  man  in  high 
esteem,  who  had  commanded  with  credit  in  the  Peloponnesian  war, 
and  was  afterwards  an  ally  of  Thrasybulus  in  restoring  the  democracy. 
It  was  urged  against  Socrates,  by  his  prosecutors,  that  he  was  dis- 
affected to  the  democracy,  and  that  he  had  instilled  similar  principles 
into  his  followers,  especially  Critias  and  Alcibiades.  Indeed,  it  seems 
very  likely,  that  his  intimacy  with  Alcibiades  was  one  principal  cause 
of  the  suspicion  and  dislike  with  which  he  was  viewed  by  the  popular 
party.  Socrates  himself,  as  Plato  makes  him  speak,  did  not  deny  his 
disapprobation  of  the  existing  government :  the  whole  of  his  defence, 
as  reported  by  his  illustrious  scholar,  was  calculated  to  irritate,  rather 
than  to  conciliate,  his  judges. 

His  trial.  No  advice  of  his  friends  could  persuade  him,  when  put  upon  his  de- 

fence before  the  Heliastas,1  to  say  a  word  in  the  form  of  supplication. 
He  to!4  his  judges,  that  he  was  pleading  for  them,  to  save  them  the  guilt 
of  an  unjust  condemnation.  Being  persuaded  of  the  soul's  immor- 
tality, he  considered  the  prospect  of  a  dismissal  from  the  body,  at  his 
age,  to  be  a  subject  of  rejoicing.  Death  might  be  an  introduction  to 
the  highest  degree  of  happiness;  it  could  not  bring  anything  worse  to 
a  good  man  than  a  cessation  of  being :  and  therefore  he  looked  with 
no  apprehension  to  a  sentence,  which  would  consign  him  to  the  easiest 
of  deaths ;  for  such  the  Athenian  mode  of  execution,  by  a  draught  of 
prepared  hemlock,  was  reputed  to  be. 

The  judges  were  so  much  incensed  by  the  tone  which  Socrates  took 
in  his  defence,  that  they  refused  to  hear  Plato,  who  would  have  spoken 
in  his  behalf,  and  immediately  found  him  guilty.  It  being  then  per- 
mitted him  to  say  what  fine  ought  to  be  imposed  upon  him,  he  would 
not  suffer  his  friends  to  contribute  anything  towards  a  pecuniary  mulct ; 
but  told  the  court,  that  he  considered  himself  worthy  of  the  highest 
honours  and  reward.  Still  further  irritated  by  this  reply,  a  majority 
iscondemned  of  the  judges,  still  greater  than  the  former  one,  condemned  him  to 
to  death.  death ;  and  he  was  accordingly  conducted  to  prison,  after  having  shown 
the  injustice  of  his  sentence.  He  concluded  his  address  to  the  judges 
with  these  words:  "  But  it  is  time  that  we  should  depart;  I  to  die, 
you  to  live  :  but  which  for  the  greater  good,  God  only  knows." 

The  condemnation  of  Socrates  happened  on  the  eve  of  the  day 
appointed  for  the  ceremony  of  placing  a  sacred  chaplet  upon  the  ship, 

1  The  largest  court  of  judicature  at  Athens  was  the  'HX/a7a,  consisting  of  from 
1500  to  500  judges,  called  'HA<«<n-a/.  Before  this  tribunal  were  tried  questions 
concerning  religion. 


SOCRATES.  49 

which  carried  the  annual  offerings  to  the  gods  worshipped  at  Delos. 
And  no  execution  could  take  place  at  Athens  from  the  crowning  of 
the  galley  till  its  return  from  Delos.  Thus  the  death  of  Socrates  was 
respited  for  thirty  days.  His  friends  took  advantage  of  this  delay,  to 
concert  means  for  his  escape.  The  jailer  was  bribed,  and  a  vessel 
prepared  to  convey  Socrates  to  some  friends  in  Thessaly.  But  no  Refuses  to 
persuasion  could  induce  him  to  use  the  opportunity.  Having  all  his  escape* 
life  recommended  obedience  to  the  laws  of  his  country,  he  would  not 
now  set  an  example  of  the  breach  of  them ;  arguing,  that  unjust  as 
his  sentence  was,  wrong  would  not  justify  wrong.  Plato  has  given  us 
a  beautiful  representation  of  the  manner  in  which  Socrates  employed 
himself  during  this  painful  interval,  in  discussing  subjects  of  the  highest 
nature  with  his  favourite  disciples.  But  there  is  too  much  reason  to 
apprehend  that  these  representations  are  more  striking  than  faithful. 
It  is,  however,  agreed  on  all  hands,  that  when  the  sacred  ship  returned 
(of  which  he  professed  to  have  been  forewarned  by  a  dream),  he  drank 
the  fatal  cup  with  perfect  composure,  and  died  with  a  degree  of  tran- 
quillity, which  would  have  been  still  more  admirable,  had  it  not  been 
alloyed  by  a  mixture  of  ill-timed  facetiousness.  He  was,  at  his  death,  His  death, 
which  happened  OL.  xciv.  1,  in  the  70th  year  of  his  age.  B'c>  399% 

The  disciples  of  Socrates,  after  having  paid  the  last  honours  to  their 
departed  master,  and  testified  their  grief  and  indignation  in  the  most 
public  manner,  quitted  Athens  for  some  time,  for  fear  of  the  faction 
which  had  procured  his  condemnation.  A  general  sentiment  of  indig-  Revulsion  of 
nation  prevailed  in  the  Grecian  states,  at  the  news  of  this  event ;  and 
it  was  not  long  before  the  Athenians  themselves,  being  made  sensible 
of  the  injustice  of  their  proceedings,  turned  their  anger  against  the 
accusers  of  Socrates ;  of  whom  Melitus  is  said  to  have  been  condemned 
to  death,  and  Anytus  banished  from  Athens.  The  friends  of  the 
murdered  philosopher  were  recalled,  and  a  statue  erected  to  his  honour. 
A  pestilence  which  happened  not  long  afterwards,  was  considered  to 
be  a  just  punishment  for  their  gross  violation  of  justice ;  and  it  is  not 
a  little  remarkable  that,  from  that  time,  the  affairs  of  Athens  grew 
continually  worse. 

The  grammarian  who  wrote  the  argument  to  that  oration  of  Isocrates, 
which  is  called  the  Encomium  of  Busiris,  relates,  that  when  the  'Pala- 
medes'  of  Euripides  was  acted  at  Athens,  and  the  chorus  uttered  the  fol- 
lowing words :  "  O  Greeks,  ye  have  killed  the  wisest,  sweetest  songstress 
of  the  Muses,  who  injured  no  one,  the  best  of  the  Greeks,"  the  whole 
theatre  shed  tears,  perceiving  the  allusion  to  Socrates.  But  Diogenes 
Laertius,  after  having  observed,  that  Euripides  intended,  in  the  words 
above  quoted,  to  reproach  the  Athenians  with  their  injustice  towards 
his  illustrious  friend,  adds,  "  but  Philochorus  (a  writer  on  the  anti- 
quities of  Attica)  says  that  Euripides  died  before  Socrates ;"  which  is 
perfectly  true;  for  the  poet  died,  OL.  xciii.  1,  the  philosopher  in  OL. 
xciv.  1.  But  as  the  '  Palamedes'  was  brought  upon  the  stage  nine  years 
after  the  first  representation  of  '  The  Clouds'  of  Aristophanes,  Valck- 

[G.  K.  P.]  E 


50  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

enaer  thinks  it  probable  that  Euripides  might  intend  to  shadow  out, 
in  the  story  of  *  Palamedes,'  the  ingratitude  and  injustice  of  the  citizens 
of  Athens  towards  their  illustrious  teacher,  and  to  point  to  the  pro- 
bable result  of  the  popular  outcry  against  him.  As  to  the  story  of  the 
commiseration  expressed  by  the  audience  at  the  lamentation  of  the 
chorus,  if  it  ever  took  place  at  all,  it  was,  perhaps,  at  a  second  repre- 
sentation of  the  '  Palamedes,'  after  the  death  of  Socrates. 

Left  no  Socrates  never  committed  any  of  his  speculations  to  writing :  those 

writings.  wnieh  have  been  attributed  to  him  have  been  abundantly  proved  not 
to  have  been  his  productions  ;  especially  the  epistles,  which  go  by  his 
name,  but  which  Bishop  Pearson  and  Dr.  Bentley  have  shown  to  be 
the  forgery  of  a  sophist  of  later  times.  He  is  reported  to  have  assisted 
Euripides  in  writing  some  of  his  tragedies,  for  which  rumour  there 
was,  probably,  no  foundation  but  the  intimacy  which  subsisted  between 
them. 

Person  of          The  person  of  Socrates  is  so  well  known  to  our  readers,  that  it  need 

Socrates.       hardly  be  described.     Its  resemblance  to  the  representation  usually 

given  of  Silenus,  in  the  works  of  ancient  art,  is  so  strong,  that  he  was 

called,  with  an  allusion  to  the  convivial  excesses  of  his  friend,  the 

Silenus  of  Alcibiades. 

As  Socrates,  instead  of  addicting  himself  to  any  set  of  philosophical 
principles  as  a  system,  with  which  every  moral  and  political  pheno- 
menon must  be  made  to  square,  passed  his  life  in  the  investigation  of 
truth,  and  delivered,  in  plain  and  unaffected  language,  the  result  of 
patient  observations  and  inquiry,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  if  some 
of  his  followers,  who  were  not  superior  to  the  ambition  of  system- 
making,  instead  of  treading  in  the  footsteps  of  their  master,  struck  off 
Sect8  in  different  directions,  and  became  the  founders  of  different  sects  in 

founded  by    philosophy.     Such  were  Plato,  the  father  of  the  Academic  sect,  Aris- 
rs*  tippus  of  the  Cyrenaic,  Phsedo  of  the  Eliac,  Euclid  of  the  Megaric,  and 
Antisthenes  of  the  Cynic ;  all  of  whom,  widely  as  they  differed  from 
one  another,  pretended  to  ground  their  notions  upon  the  authority  of 
their  master. 

In  the  foregoing  account  of  Socrates,  we  have  endeavoured  to  ob- 
serve a  just  impartiality.  It  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  in  some  parts  of 
his  conduct  there  was  an  affectation  of  singularity,  unworthy  of  so 
wise  a  man ;  and  that  he  sometimes  bestowed  much  unnecessary 
labour  upon  the  elucidation  of  a  very  common  and  obvious  truth ;  but 
he  was  undoubtedly  the  author  of  a  far  more  genuine  and  practical 
philosophy  than  the  Greeks  had  before  been  masters  of;  and  taught  a 
system  of  morality,  which,  with  a  very  few  exceptions,  was  defective 
only  in  its  motives.  And  it  is  a  strong  argument  of  the  necessity 
which  existed,  before  the  time  of  our  Saviour,  of  a  divine  revelation, 
that  a  philosophy,  so  pure  and  rational  as  that  of  Socrates,  enforced  as 
it  was  by  the  ablest  and  most  eloquent  writers  of  antiquity,  had  but 
little  effect  in  improving  the  religious  or  moral  character  of  the  most 
acute  and  ingenious  people  of  the  heathen  world. 


PLATO. 


BY 

WILLIAM  LOWNDES,  ESQ.,  M.A.,  Q.C. 

BBAZENOSE  COLLEGE,  OXFOBD. 


E2 


PLATO. 

FROM  B.  C.  428  TO  B.  C.  348. 

OUR  readers  have  been  already  presented  with  the  particulars  of  the 
life  of  Socrates,  whose  moral  worth  illustrated  the  age  in  which  he 
lived,  and  whose  pupils  and  admirers  branched  out  into  so  many 
separate  families  or  schools,  that  he  has  been  very  justly  entitled  the 
great  patriarch  of  Grecian  Philosophy.  The  first  of  those  schools, 
that  of  the  earlier  Academics,  as  they  have  been  called,  was  founded 
by  the  subject  of  the  present  memoir.  Plato,  the  pupil  of  Socrates, 
who  was  one  of  his  country's  highest  ornaments,  and  whose  works 
remain  as  the  great  model  of  Athenian  genius,  elegance,  and  urbanity. 

Our  memoir  will  contain  a  bare  outline  of  the  principal  facts  of  the 
life  of  Plato,  as  far  as  they  can  be  authenticated  by  the  concurrent 
testimonies  of  Cicero,  Apuleius,  and  Diogenes  Laertius.  We  shall  Fables  con- 
reject  all  fables  ;  and  think  it  unnecessary,  for  instance,  to  trouble  our 
readers  with  the  tale  that  Plato  was  born  of  a  virgin  mother,  and  that 
he  had  the  honour  of  Apollo  for  his  father,  though  Diogenes  and 
Apuleius,  and  Plutarch  and  Lucian,  concur  in  the  story ;  nor  do  we 
think  it  worth  while  to  stay  and  inquire  whether  the  fable  might  not 
originate  in  some  circumstance  of  illegitimate  birth,  or  in  the  fact  that 
Plato  was  born  on  one  of  Apollo's  festivals.  In  like  manner,  we 
cannot  dwell  on  the  account  that  a  swarm  of  bees  gathered  round  the 
cradle,  and  settled  on  the  infant's  lips,  though  Cicero,1  in  one  passage, 
assumes  the  fact.  We  prefer  relating  what  may  be  credited,  and  trust 
that  our  readers  will  approve  our  caution,  though  it  may.  deprive  us  of 
some  amusing  materials. 

Our  narrative  will  be  interspersed  with  brief  abstracts  of  some  of 
those  Dialogues  of  Plato,  which  we  think  contain  the  best  views  of 
his  sentiments,  or  in  which  we  suspect  the  characters  and  objects  of 
the  speakers  to  have  been  generally  misapprehended.  To  the  narra- 
tive we  shall  subjoin  a  general  outline  of  Plato's  doctrines,  with  a  few 
general  reflections  on  the  bearings  of  his  philosophy ;  and  here  we 
shall  maintain  the  same  reserve  as  in  our  relation  of  facts.  We  shall 
state  Plato's  own  doctrines  from  his  own  writings,  and  we  shall  not 
trouble  ourselves  with  the  consideration  of  notions  (and  of  such  there 
is  abundance)  which  are  generally  attributed  to  him,  but  of  which  we 
do  not  find  the  slightest  trace  in  his  own  writings. 

Plato  was  born  of  Athenian  parents,  in  the  island  of  jEgina,  in  the  His  birth, 

1  Platoni  cum  in  cunis  parvulo  dormienti  apes  in  labellis  consedissent,  responsum  B*  °*     8' 
est,  singulari  ilium  suavitate  orationis  fore,  ita  futura  eloquentia  provisa  in  infante 
cst.— De  Divinat.  lib.  i.  36. 


54 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Becomes  a 
disciple  of 
Socrates . 


His  early 
writings. 


first  year  of  the  eighty-eighth  Olympiad  (B.C.  428).  In  his  early  life 
he  devoted  himself  much  to  poetry,  and  is  said  to  have  produced  an 
epic  poem,  which  he  committed  to  the  flames,  and  a  drama,  which 
was  represented.  When  about  the  age  of  twenty,  he  became  a 
disciple  of  Socrates,  and  continued  with  him  for  eight  years,  till  that 
great  and  amiable  philosopher  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  rancour  of  party, 
disguised  under  the  pretext  of  zeal  for  the  national  religion.  Plato 
attended  his  master  during  his  trial,  was  one  of  those  who  offered  to 
speak  in  his  defence  (though  the  judges  would  not  allow  him  to  pro- 
ceed), and  to  be  bound  as  a  surety  for  the  payment  of  his  fine ;  and 
after  the  fatal  sentence,  waited  on  him  in  prison,  and  was  present 
during  his  last  moments. 

It  appears  that  Plato  had  written  one  or  two  dialogues  in  the  life- 
time of  Socrates ;  and  there  is  much  reason  to  believe  that  if  those 
dialogues  exist  in  the  present  collection  of  his  works,  they  are  '  The 
Lysis,'  '  Phaedrus,'  « The  Banquet,'  and  perhaps  the  '  Protagoras.'  All 
these  bear  strong  marks  of  youthful  fancy.  In  the  three  first  the 
dramatic  character  so  completely  predominates,  that  the  arguments 
seem  only  introduced  as  illustrative  of  the  manners  and  temper  of  the 
individuals.  '  The  Banquet '  is  a  perfect  comedy.  The  choice  phrases 
and  pretty  turns  of  Lysias,  the  grandeur  and  affected  antitheses  of 
Gorgias,  covertly  represented  in  the  speeches  of  their  respective 
admirers,  Phaadras  and  Pausanias,  are  finely  contrasted  with  the  plain 
severity  of  Pericles's  style,  in  the  speech  of  Eryxamachus ;  and  the 
broad  humour  and  wild  ribaldry  of  Aristophanes  are  but  a  foil  to  the 
less  prominent  but  more  significant  irony  of  Socrates.  It  is  to  be 
lamented  that  the  subject  of  the  dialogue,  Love,  leads  to  illustrations 
from  the  grossest  sensuality  and  vilest  depravity;  but  Socrates  has 
evidently  aims  of  a  high  moral  cast  in  the  part  which  he  takes  in  the 
conversation.  Indeed,  Alcibiades,  whilst  he  does  justice  to  his  pre- 
ceptor's moral  character,  has  introduced  an  admirable  description  of 
the  manner  by  which  Socrates  in  general  proceeded  from  the  most 
familiar  subjects,  and  from  trite  and  obvious  topics  to  insinuate  reflec- 
tions of  a  graver  nature,  and  to  lead  his  hearer's  mind  into  a  train  of 
useful  thought.1 

The  object  of  '  The  Protagoras '  seems  to  be,  in  a  great  degree,  to 

1  OJog  &  ourotf}  yiyovi  rqv  uTOfletv  a.v6oufos  xut  ulro;  XKI  ai  Xoyot  envrav,  oil?  iyyu; 
av  ii/goi  rtg  %t}Tuv,oun  ruv  vvv,  oiiri  <ruv  vct^Kiuv  li  f4.ria.oa  01;  tyeu  Xiyu  aviutciffoi  <ri$ 
avrov  d-vfyuvruv  f4.lv  pv^ivi*  <ro7;  $1  ffitXmdi;  x.cti  ffetrugoi;,  avrov  Tt  xeu  TOUS  Xoyovg.  xat 
yao  ouv  xai  rouro  Iv  ro7f  vrgaroi;  ffagiXitfov,  on  xai  01  Xoyot  KIITOV  bftoioretroi  iitri  To7; 
<ru\wo~s  ro7s  Sioiyopivois.  ti  ya.%  \6i\ot  *7;  ruv  'Sux^drous  axoutiv  Xoyav,  Qctviiiiv  Hv  -ruvu 
y&o7ov  rof^urov  roixuru  xxi  ovnfjt.tx.Tot.  xot,}  ^/4,a,<ra  t%ufav  vr&ptta,(Jt,<ffi-)(,ovra.t  o-xrugou  a.v 
vivtx,  vfyiffrov  $o£oiv  Vvovs  ya,£  x,oiv6n\tavs  *.tyti,  xui  %et*.x&xs  -rivet.;  x.ou  ffxvroropou; 
xot.}  fiu^rrob's.xoi.S)  KOI,}  a,ii  $iot,  ruv  uvruv  TO.  UUTOL  (pctivireu  Xlyw  uffri,  oL-ffitoo;  xctt 
avotiTo;  oivfyuvros  VMS  o.v  ruv  Xoyotv  xot,ru.yi\a,fftn.  ^toiyoftivovs  21  t*buv  civ  rig,  xctt  tvrof 
OLUTUV  yiyvoftivo;,  rtojurov  f4.lv  vovv  s%ovret;  tvSov  [jt,'ovov$  ivynttu  vuv  \oytav  ITSITO;. 
fnoToiroi/?  *a<  vXtiffTa,  a.ya.\fjtMTot,  Karris  iv  UUTOI;  'i^ovrat,?  xoti  \<xt  <rXsiff<rov  nivovroti 
f*.a.X.\uv  21  \<x\  vreiv  offov  vfgoffwxti  ffxovrav  ru  ftiXXovrt  xxX(f  xeiya.&ca  EflT-lM*  ratJr'  Iffrtv 
u  eivfyss  a  iy&>  Suxgarou;  iffcwu. — Convivium,  pp.  221,  222. 


PLATO.  55 

represent  the  style  and  doctrines  of  that  ingenious  and  eloquent 
declaimer  in  contrast  with  those  of  Socrates.  The  dialogue,  though 
intending  an  exposure  of  the  artifices  of  rhetoric,  and  of  the  trickery 
of  exterior  pomp,  is  written  in  a  grave  and  dignified  style ;  and  the 
poetical  imagery  with  which  it  is  ennobled  is  of  the  highest  cast.  It 
is  altogether  one  of  the  most  elegant  of  Plato's  dialogues ;  and  a  more 
plausible  or  beautiful  harangue  cannot  be  imagined  than  the  fine 
speech  delivered  by  Protagoras,  It  is  a  masterpiece  of  the  kind.  But 
the  lordly  declaimer  is  much  embarrassed  by  the  close  mode  of  combat 
practised  by  Socrates ;  and,  the  first  moment  he  can  disengage  him- 
self, expatiates  afresh  in  that  amplitude  of  discourse  where  the  colour- 
ings of  the  imagination  can  be  best  used  to  dazzle  and  delude,  and  in 
which  ingenious  hypothesis  and  splendid  illustrations  may  be  sub- 
stituted for  proofs  with  the  greatest  chance  of  success.  For  an  outline 
of  this  dialogue,  sketched  by  the  hand  of  a  master,  we  would  beg  to 
refer  our  English  readers  to  Mr.  Gray's  posthumous  works,  published 
by  Mr.  Matthias  ;l  and  we  only  regret  that  our  limits  will  not  permit 
us  to  insert  an  abstract,  which  is  at  once  so  just  in  the  statement  of  the 
arguments,  and  gives  such  fine  glimpses  of  the  original  in  the  colour  of 
the  diction. 

Another  circumstance  which  makes  it  probable  that  these  dialogues 
were  written  at  that  period  of  Plato's  life  is,  that  the  poetical  splen- 
dour with  which  they  abound  is  rather  of  a  mythological  than  a  meta- 
physical cast.  They  are  entirely  destitute  not  merely  of  the  subtilties 
and  of  the  refined  discussions  which  appear  in  some  of  the  other 
productions  of  Plato,  but  of  those  grand  and  noble  reveries  into  which 
his  soul  at  a  maturer  age  delighted  to  throw  itself,  when  he  had 
refuted  the  Sceptics  by  a  logic  of  his  own,  still  more  subtle  than 
theirs,  and  when  his  own  system  of  intellectual  existences  had  been 
formed  and  completed.  The  poetry  in  these  dialogues,  on  the 
contrary,  is  rather  popular  than  philosophical. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  Socrates,  Plato  retired  to  Megara  ;  and  it  is  Retires  to 
generally  believed  that  he  there  composed  those  three  simple  and  Megara- 
beautiful  dialogues  connected  with  the  fate  of  his  master ;  *  The  De- 
fence,' '  The  Crito,'  and  '  The  Pha?do.'  The  dramatic  parts  of  these 
dialogues,  and  particularly  that  of  '  The  Phaedo,'  abound  with  pathetic  The  Phado. 
touches  ;  and  there  is  such  an  air  of  nature  throughout,  that  the  reader 
is  impressed  with  a  share  of  the  author's  sensibility,  and  is  at  once 
present  and  interested  in  the  scene  described.  The  last  conversation 
of  the  great  patriarch  of  Grecian  philosophy  is  recorded  by  his  affec- 
tionate pupil  with  every  circumstance  which  can  indicate  the  writer's 
devoted  veneration  and  deep  regret,  or  which  can  conciliate  the 
reader's  esteem  and  admiration.  The  plain  integrity,  the  cheerful  and 
even  playful  temper,  the  genuine  intrepidity  of  Socrates  on  the  eve 
of  death,  are  so  simply  and  forcibly  represented,  that  we  feel  that 
whether  imagination  or  memory  supplied  the  particulars  of  the  conver- 
1  In  quarto,  1814,  vol.  ii.  p.  387. 


56  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

sation  recited,  all  the  manners  of  the  dialogue,  the  attitudes,  and  tones, 
and  gestures  of  the  speaker  must  have  been  drawn  from  life ;  and 
every  little  circumstance  speaks  the  language  of  a  heart  retracing  its' 
fondest  recollections. 

immortality  The  argument  discussed  is  suitable  to  the  occasion,  the  Immortality 
of  the  Soul,  of  the  Soul.  Upon  this  momentous  subject,  which  should  seem  to 
defy  and  to  confound  the  powers  of  human  reason  unenlightened  by 
revelation,  Socrates  is  represented  as  urging  that  the  soul  cannot  be  a 
modification  of  the  body,  for  the  soul  gives  life  to  the  mass  which  it 
informs,  it  controls  and  regulates  the  functions  of  the  perishable  frame 
with  which  it  is  connected. 

The  conditions  in  which  beings  exist  are  but  a  succession  of  changes 
and  an  alternation  of  extremes.  Heat  succeeds  cold,  and  weakness 
strength ;  and  the  existence  of  one  state  infers  the  succession  of  its 
opposite.  Life,  as  it  precedes,  so  it  will  probably  succeed  death  ;  and 
a  state  of  insensibility  and  inaction  is  merely  to  be  looked  upon  as 
a  necessary  state  of  transition  to  its  opposite.  But  the  human  soul  is 
capable  of  contemplating  the  eternal  relations  of  things,  which  exist 
independently  of  those  accidental  combinations  and  mere  casual  phe- 
nomena which  are  presented  to  the  senses.  The  soul  has  powers  of 
meditating  objects  unconnected  with  time  or  space,  and  of  a  nature 
imperishable ;  and,  it  should  therefore  seem,  must  be  itself  as  im- 
perishable as  the  objects  which  it  is  its  divine  prerogative  to  be  able 
to  contemplate.  The  general  principles  with  which  the  mind  is 
fraught,  arid  which,  so  far  from  being  acquired  in  this  life  by  any 
collection  from  particulars,  are  the  tests  which  the  mind  from  our 
earliest  infancy  applies  in  the  arrangement  of  particulars  ;  that  inborn 
and  inherent  knowledge,  which  study  and  investigation  do  not  create, 
but  only  develop,  as  they  are  strong  arguments  to  show  some  pre- 
existent  state,  so  also  are  they  to  be  considered  as  indelible  attesta- 
tions of  the  divine  original  of  the  mind.  Upon  the  whole,  the  parti- 
cles of  the  visible  world  undergo  not  any  destruction,  but  merely 
a  transformation  :  the  powers  and  faculties  of  the  mind  embrace  those 
universal  essences  which  have  a  far  higher  nature  than  the  accidents 
of  this  visible  world :  they  bear  with  them  strong  marks  of  a  pre- 
existent  state,  and  are  endowed  with  a  divination  and  strange  presen- 
timent of  some  future  state. 

What  the  condition  of  individuals  may  be  in  that  future  state  must 
be  but  matter  of  conjecture ;  but  the  good  will  safely  rely  upon  the 
conviction,  that  in  doing  what  is  right  they  have  done  what  is  accept- 
able to  the  Deity ;  and,  in  the  distribution  of  future  conditions,  it  is 
not  to  be  apprehended  that  those  will  be  reduced  to  a  lower  state 
who  have  done  all  in  their  power  to  deserve  a  higher.  But  these 
difficulties*  can  only  be  met  by  conjecture. 

Some  of  these  arguments  bear  the  cast  of  doctrines  which  are 
prevalent  in  those  writings  of  Plato  which  are  acknowledged  to  be  the 
productions  of  a  much  later  period  in  his  life.  And  though  *  The 


PLATO,  57 

Phaedo '  might  be  sketched  at  Megara,  it  probably  received  touches 
from  the  author's  hand  at  a  much  more  advanced  stage  of  his  life  than 
his  residence  in  that  state. 

We  should  be  inclined  to  attribute  to  an  early  period  of  Plato's  life  The  Alci-  i 
'The  Alcibiades'  (generally  termed  *  The  First  Alcibiades').  It  is  biades* 
written  with  much  simplicity ;  and,  at  the  same  time  that  it  inculcates 
the  necessity  of  gaining  thorough  information  of  the  details  of  public 
affairs  before  a  young  man  enters  into  political  life,  it  intimates,  in 
many  marked  passages,  the  coincidence  between  true  policy  and 
virtue,  and  may  be  read  by  the  students  of  Plato's  works  with  great 
propriety,  as  introductory  to  and  illustrative  of  the  '  Books  on  the 
Commonwealth.'  The  notion  that  virtue  is  the  perfection  of  a  state, 
just  in  the  same  manner  that  it  is  the  perfection  of  an  individual, 
is  developed  in  those  books  at  great  length ;  but  the  great  principle, 
that  the  duty  of  justice  is  invariable  and  eternal,  and  that  whatever  is 
productive  of  disorder  is  as  noxious  to  the  exorbitant  individual  as  it 
is  to  society ;  or,  in  the  case  of  a  state,  equally  prejudicial  to  itself  as 
it  is  encroaching  on  its  neighbours,  is  glanced  at  in  this  dialogue  in  a 
manner  very  forcible.  The  vanity  of  Alcibiades  is  pleasantly  flattered 
by  Socrates  in  the  beginning  of  the  dialogue.  His  spirit  and  readiness 
are  very  characteristic  ;  but  his  self-sufficiency  gradually  abates,  and  he 
is,  before  the  conclusion,  in  a  manner,  rebuked  and  abashed.  But  a 
certain  liveliness  is  preserved  throughout,  and  the  reader  cannot  help 
feeling  an  interest  for  the  frank  and  ingenuous  youth  in  spite  of  all  the 
embarrassment  into  which  he  is  thrown,  and  which  is  a  just  punish- 
ment for  his  forwardness  and  self-complacency. 

From  Megara,  Plato  proceeded  on  a  course  of  travels ;  and  first  he  Plato  visits 
visited  Italy :  and  perhaps  we  shall  be  excused  if  we  premise  here  Italy' 
a  brief  sketch  of  the  opinions  which  seem  to  have  prevailed  in  Italy  at 
the  time  of  Plato's  visit.     In  his  progress  through  life  he  introduced 
and  ingrafted  on  the  doctrines  of  Socrates  many  notions,  of  which  we 
find  no  account  in  Xenophon,  as  having  been  entertained  by  that  philo- 
sopher ;  and  many  of  his  dialogues,  on  the  other  hand,  are  occupied 
in  controverting  other  classes  of  opinions,  the  nature  and  bearings 
of  which  cannot  indeed  be  understood  without  particular  examination. 

The  philosophy  of  Italy  seems  to  have  been  at  this  time  divided  The  Phiio- 
between  the  opposite  schools  of  Heraclitus  and  Pythagoras.     The  S^  of 
former,  whilst  they  reduced  all  the  operations  of  the  mind  ultimately  Heraclitus. 
to  sense,  and  considered  sense  as  produced  by  the  impression  of 
external  species  on  the  animal  frame,  fixed  their  attention  upon  the 
changes  of  external  phenomena,  and  the  fluctuations  and  alterations 
taking  place  in  the  animal  frame  itself;  and  concluded  that  there  was 
nothing  permanent  or  settled  in  nature;  that  abstract  science  was 
a  mere  pretence,  experimental  philosophy  an  arrangement  of  dreams, 
sensation  itself  an  illusion  ;  for  how  could  there  be  any  reality  when 
the  things  which  seemed  to  impress  the  body  were  but  the  exuviae  or 
fleeting  shadows  of  objects  which  were  themselves  shadows  equally 


58  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

unsubstantial ;  and  when  the  feeling  arising  from  the  impression 
depended  on  the  momentary  and  accidental  state  of  the  body  im- 
pressed ? 

Pythagoras  The  followers  of  Pythagoras  pursued  a  directly-opposite  course  in 
lowers!  fol~  tneir  investigations.  Perceiving  that,  from  certain  definitions,  if  the 
properties  assumed  were  considered  as  the  essential  properties  of 
figures,  all  the  other  properties  might  be  deduced  by  an  easy  method, 
and  a  connected  system  might  thus  be  formed  of  demonstrable  truths, 
they  satisfied  themselves  that  such  assumed  properties  were  really 
original  and  primary ;  and  that  in  the  course  of  nature,  in  like  manner 
as  in  the  course  of  their  studies,  the  other  properties  flowed  from 
them  as  their  source.  Numbers  seemed  with  them  to  have  been 
taken  for  something  elementary.  These  the  earlier  Pythagoreans 
considered  not  only  as  the  essences  but  as  the  causes  and  originative 
producers  of  all  things  ;  and  though  their  theory  admitted  of  divini- 
ties, these  seem  only  to  have  been  higher  natures,  some  harmonious 
products,  as  it  were,  of  numbers,  in  the  same  manner  as  the  visible 
world  was  a  less  harmonious  product  of  the  same  causes.  By  what 
ingenuity  the  early  Pythagoreans  could  have  derived  all  the  qualities 
of  the  visible  world  from  combinations  of  mere  numbers,  Aristotle 
confessed  himself  incompetent  to  conceive.  It  is  scarcely,  therefore, 
to  be  hoped  that  this  mystery  of  antiquity  can  be  solved  when  the 
materials  for  information  are  still  more  deficient.  Other  followers  of 
Pythagoras  seemed  to  have  reasoned  in  a  manner  less  subtle,  and  to 
have  arrived  at  some  conclusions  of  the  highest  moment.  These  per- 
ceived or  imagined  in  the  external  world,  amidst  its  varying  pheno- 
mena, the  existence  of  certain  substances  of  a  more  permanent  nature. 
They  perceived  that  whilst  individual  objects  perish,  the  classes  of 
objects  still  remain  ;  that  whilst  some  qualities  are  transformed  by 
attrition,  or  fusion,  or  other  operations  of  nature  or  art,  other  proper- 
ties appear  to  be  inherent  and  unchangeable.  They  concluded,  there- 
fore, that  there  exist  in  nature  two  distinct  classes,  one  of  variable 
qualities,  and  the  other  of  eternal  essences.  But  as  their  principal 
attention  was  directed  to  mathematical  studies,  and  as  they  found  that 
in  the  external  world  no  materials  could  be  found  exactly  correspond- 
ing to  their  notions  of  quantity,  whether  continuous  or  discrete ;  that 
physical  squares  or  circles  always  involved  some  disproportion ;  and 
that  musical  instruments,  however  formed,  could  never  adequately 
give,  through  the  medium  of  sense,  the  relations  of  their  musical 
scales,  though  these  last  were  formed  of  perfect  consonances,  they  in- 
ferred that  essences  exist  in  some  manner  independent  of  phenomena, 
and  that  phenomena  are  but  imperfect  representatives  of  essences. 
They  judged  that  the  relations  of  things  are  eternal,  but  the  things 
related  fluctuating  and  accidental.  They  deemed  that  there  is  a 
perfect  intellectual  world  discoverable  by  intellect ;  and  also  a  visible 
world,  which  is  but  a  semblance  and  approximation  to  the  other,  the 
proper  object  of  mere  sense. 


PLATO.  59 

Whilst  these  schools,  of  the  physical  analysts  and  annihilators  of 
existence  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  metaphysical  realists  and  assertors 
of  eternal  relations  on  the  other,  were  in  full  vogue  and  in  daily  colli- 
sion, Plato  paid  his  visit  to  Italy.  He  embraced  the  doctrines  of  Plato  modi- 
Heraclitus  as  far  as  they  related  to  physics ;  but  the  sceptical  inferences  JfneTthe°m 
which  were  attempted  to  be  drawn  from  those  doctrines,  met  in  him  systems  of 
with  a  decided  and  unwearied  opponent.  He  adopted  the  notions  of  anTpytha- 
the  Pythagoreans  as  to  the  permanence  of  essences,  but  he  modified  s°ras- 
the  doctrine  considerably,  by  incorporating  with  it  those  notions  of  a 
moral  system  and  of  an  organizing  Providence,  which  he  had  inherited 
from  Socrates,  as  part  of  the  purer  creed  of  Anaxagoras.  In  another 
very  important  particular  too,  he  qualified  the  metaphysical  system  of 
Pythagoras :  he  considered  the  intellectual  world  as  being  in  some 
degree  embodied  in  the  visible  one.  Instead  of  inferring,  as  the 
Pythagoreans  had  done,  that  things  related  were  a  semblance  of  the 
abstract  relations,  he  thought  that  they  participated  in  those  relations.1 
Some  other  differences  subsisted  between  his  notions  and  those  of  the 
Pythagoreans,  on  the  origin  and  the  nature  of  numbers,  which  are 
involved  in  considerable  obscurities.2  They  seem  to  have  merged 
sensible  objects  in  numbers,  or  in  some  manner  to  have  identified  them ; 
he,  on  the  contrary,  insisted  on  their  separate  existence  from  numbers. 
In  these,  as  in  many  other  particulars  of  ancient  philosophy,  it  is  to  be 
feared  that  we  must  be  satisfied  with  glimpses  of  meaning,  and  must 
be  careful  of  introducing  our  own  conjectures  as  expositions  of  what  we 
cannot  clearly  apprehend.  But  it  may  be  remarked  as  singular,  that 
in  one  case  Plato  is  represented  as  allowing  a  greater  affinity  between 
sensible  objects  and  their  essences,  than  the  Pythagoreans  did ;  and  in 
the  other,  that  he  made  greater  distinctions  than  they  did  between 
sensible  things  and  numbers,  when  it  is  admitted  by  all  that  the 
Pythagoreans  at  least  identified  numbers  with  essences. 

From  Italy,  the  general  account  is,  that  Plato  proceeded  to  visit  He  visits 
Egypt ;  but  we  have  no  information  which  can  be  depended  upon,  sypt* 
either  as  to  the  circumstances  of  his  visit,  or  the  length  of  his  stay  in 
that  country.  Some  accounts  state  that  this  journey  was  undertaken 
for  the  sake  of  merchandise,  and  that  Plato  was  there  trafficking  in 
oil.3  But  nothing  can  be  more  improbable  than  such  a  circumstance. 
Others  relate  that  he  there  visited  the  priests,  and  was  initiated  in 
their  most  profound  mysteries.4  But  Plato  himself  acquaints  us  with 
the  reserve  maintained  in  Egypt  towards  strangers  with  regard  to  the 
peculiar  institutions  of  the  country ;  and  assures  us,  that  so  far  from 
their  mysteries  being  accessible  to  foreigners,  "  the  animals  of  the 

*  O<  f&tv  yat.o  Tltitfx'yo/juoi  ftifiqfftv  <ra  OVTO,  tyu,ff}v  tivett  TUV  Koi&fAuv  UXarwy  ol  fitQifyV) 
TOVvofAtx,  f&i<ra,fia/.&iy  T»JV  (tlv  roi  y>t  fJt-'iSiQv  *j  <rvv  f^ifji^trtv  %rt$  a.v  ifa  rut  tl^uv  dtyiTirav 
iv  xcivS,  &>rt7v. — Arist.  Metaph.  lib.  i.  c.  6. 

2  TaBs  avr*  <rou  a.<nloou  u;  ivo$  $ua3ct  voivffai,  ro  Vt  drftigov   lit  ptyiiXou  x-a.}  ptixgov 
rovT  'i^iav.    xac,}  ITI  o  p\v  rovg  xpifaov;  -rapa.  roc,  ulfffnva,^  ci%  apdftaus  tUvai  (fiaffiv  O.VTOS, 
<ra  irpu.yp.ara,,  xa.}  TO,  ^a.6n^.ce.rixac,  p.&Ta.'Qu  TOVTUV  nv  rihctffi. — Arist.  qua  supra, 

3  Diogenes  Laertius.  .*  Apuleius.  Plutarch. 


60  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

Nile  used  to  drive  foreigners  away  by  their  meats  and  sacrifices,  and 
rude  proclamations."1  The  most  probable  ground  for  his  visit,  besides 
general  curiosity,  is  the  one  stated  by  Cicero,2  that  he  went  for  the 
purpose  of  completing  his  mathematical  studies,  and  becoming  master 
of  their  astronomical  systems.  We  must  attribute  to  the  ignorance 
and  vanity  of  the  Alexandrians  of  a  later  period,  the  fiction,  that 
during  Plato's  stay  in  Egypt  the  germ  of  all  his  knowledge  was 
formed  ;  and  that  he  was  indebted  to  the  sages  there  for  those  trea- 
sures of  moral  and  political  wisdom  which  he  afterwards  imparted  to 
his  countrymen.  On  this  head  we  have  the  express  authority  of  Plato, 
that  although  some  of  the  abstract  sciences  flourished  in  Egypt,  the 
other  liberal  sciences  were  in  his  day  but  at  a  low  ebb  there.  At  the 
close  of  his  '  Fifth  Book  on  Laws,'  after  descanting  on  the  advantages 
to  be  derived  to  the  mind  from  the  study  of  arithmetic,  he  remarks, 
that  such  studies  produce  other  tendencies,  which  require  to  be 
counteracted,  and  that  the  knowledge  of  numbers  may  degenerate 
into  mere  cunning.  "  And  this,"  says  he,  "  is  the  case  with  the 
Egyptians  and  Phoenicians,  and  in  many  other  countries,  from  the 
meanness  of  their  other  institutions  and  acquirements  ;  whether  this 
circumstance  is  to  be  attributed  to  the  ignorance  of  their  legislators, 
or  to  untoward  occurrences,  or  to  some  inherent  and  physical  defect."8 

Some  writers  mention  Plato's  visit  to  Italy  as  occurring  after  his 
visit  to  Egypt  ;4  and  others  suppose  that  he  visited  Italy  twice,  both 
on  his  way  to,  and  on  his  return  from,  Egypt.5  It  seems  pretty  well 
established  that  he  visited  Italy  when  he  quitted  Megara  ;  whether 
he  returned  to  it  or  not,  when  on  his  way  homeward  from  Egypt, 
must  remain  a  matter  of  doubt.  But  it  seems  probable  that  he  did  so. 

On  his  return  to  Greece,  Plato  took  possession  of  a  small  house 

1  Tovrotg   %n   ro7s   voftoi;   iivro$'f%iff0a.i  rt  xpw  rta.vru.s  %ivov$   n   xa.}  %svcts  1%  a.XXti; 
%&>PK;,  xa.}   <rov;   auruv  ix-rift'rtfv   riftuvrxs  %tvtov  Aim'    (vn  fipuftuffi   xa.}   Qvp.a.fft   TO,; 
^ivnXaffia-s  <roiou/tivous  (xa.0a,<ffip  votouirt  vuv  6plfjt,f*.ix.Ta.  NitXou)  (t'/dtl  xwpvyftucriv  dyptoig. 
—  De  Legg.  lib.  xii.  p.  953.  e. 

2  "  Cum  Plato  ^Egyptum  peragravit  ut  a  sacerdotibus  barbaris  numeros  et  cce- 
lestia  acciperet?"  —  De  Finibus,  v.  29.     It  is  strange  how  this  passage  has  been 
misinterpreted,  and  what  latitude  has  been  given  to  the  term  ccelestia  here,  even  by 
some  writers  who  were  acquainted  with  another  passage  of  Cicero,  which  is  the 
best  commentary  on   this,  if  indeed  it  stood  in  need  of  any  :  —  "  Socrates  mihi 
videtur,  id  quod  constat  inter  omnes,  primus  a  rebus  occultis,  et  ab  ipsa  natura 
involutis,  in  quibus  omnes  ante  eum  philosophi  occupati  fuerant,  evocavisse  phi- 
losophiam,  et  ad  vitam  communem  adduxisse,  ut  de  virtutibus  et  vitiis,  omninoque 
de  bonis  rebus  et  malis  qusereret  ;  ccelestia  autem  vel  procul  esse  a  nostra  cognitione 
censeret,  vel  si  maxime  cognita  essent,  nihil  tamen  ad  bene  vivendum  conferre." 

3  ToiUTO,   %    vuvree.)   tav  fttv   oLXXoif  vopbis  <ri   xa,}  ifiryibivftuffi   a,$ot.ipriTa,i  rig  TVIV 
a,viXtu0ipia.v   xa,}   <piXo%pwf*,a.Tiuv   ix   -ruv   -^v^uv   ruv  ftiXXovrav  aura,   txavcas   rt   xeti 
ovrifflf&us    X7wiir6a,t,   auXa,   <ra  sra/osy^ctaTa  ie.au   vrpo<rnxovrK  y'lyvcHT    civ'   i\  oi  (Jt/q   TJJV 
xetXau/uLtvyv  oiv  Tig  •ffa.voupyla.v  avri   ffotyixs   aTfipyciffetftsvos   Xa.6ot'  xa.&d'ffip  '  Ai 

xa,}  $oivixKf   xoti  <raXXa  \Ttpa  awiip'yeifffAivet   yivt]  vuv  ICTTIV  idiiv,  vfo  T^J,  T 
IK  irvfitiv  [*.«.*  uv   xa.}  xrvfteirav  avsXsw^/aj  tiTt  <T'I;  vaftotitms  a,vro7;  Qx-vXos  oiv 


De  Legg.  lib.  v.  p.  746. 

4  Diogenes  Laertius.  5  Apuleius. 


PLATO.  61 

and  garden,  adjoining  to  the  groves  and  grounds  which  had  been 
bequeathed  by  Academus  or  Ecademus  to  the  public,  and  indeed  as  it  Athens, 
seems  within  one  common  enclosure ;  and  here  he  opened  a  public  school 
for  disputation  and  instruction  in  philosophy,  where  he  was  attended 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life  by  a  large  concourse  of  auditors.  As  His  Dia- 
the  earliest  productions  of  Plato  after  his  return  from  his  travels,  we  ogues 
should  be  disposed  to  mark  *  The  Euthydemus,'  *  Gorgias,'  '  Cratylus/ 
« Io/  '  Thesetetus/  '  The  Sophist/  and  '  The  Parmenides.'  '  The 
Euthydemus '  and  '  Gorgias '  may  be  considered  as  satirical  dramas 
upon  the  fashionable  sophists  and  declaimers  of  the  day.  In  the  first 
of  these  dialogues  the  folly  of  verbal  wranglings  is  admirably  exposed, 
by  introducing  Socrates  as  fighting  these  retailers  of  subtilty  with 
their  own  weapons.  Absurdities  are  heaped  on  absurdities,  until  the 
conceited  champion  of  sounds  is  reduced  to  a  proper  sense  of  his  own 
insignificancy,  and  that  of  his  art.  In  '  The  Gorgias,'  the  same  method 
is  pursued,  to  show  the  vanity  of  that  art  which  was  taught  for 
rhetoric  in  the  days  of  Plato.  The  inutility  of  words  and  set  phrases, 
and  balanced  sentences,  without  sterling  sense  and  real  knowledge,  is 
shown  in  the  amplest  manner.  Sentences  of  the  fairest  structure,  with 
all  the  changes  of  cadencies  that  can  be  wrung  upon  them,  and 
crowded  with  galaxies  of  imagery,  are  sifted  and  subverted  by  a  few 
plain  and  direct  remarks ;  and  a  homely  logic  soon  strips  off  the 
splendid  trappings  of  declamation ;  and  exposes  all  the  beautiful  turns 
and  elegant  contrasts  of  words,  as  mere  jugglers'  tricks,  which  mislead 
the  understanding  by  tickling  the  senses. 

The  antipathy  of  Plato  to  the  substitution  of  sound  for  sense,  and 
to  the  artificial  mechanism  of  rhetoric,  is  well  known  to  have  been 
inveterate.  The  style  of  Lysias  seems  to  have  been  the  object  of  his 
particular  aversion :  he  parodied  it  in  his  '  Phaedrus/  and  in  *  The 
Gorgias;'  and  it  has  been  conjectured,  with  great  plausibility,  that 
he  pursued  the  same  end  covertly  in  *  The  Menexenus.' 

'  The  Cratylus '  is  another  dialogue,  written  in  exposure  tmd  confu- 
tation of  the  sophists ;  but  the  solemn  banter  and  grave  irony  used 
throughout  this  dialogue  in  the  part  of  Socrates,  have  given  rise  to 
much   misapprehension    amongst   critics    and   commentators.      The 
dialogue  is  throughout  refutative  of  those  wranglers,  who,  as  they 
addicted  themselves  only  to  the  study  of  words,  had  propagated  with 
some  complacency  a  theory  of  philosophical  etymology,  and  were 
pleased  to  think  that  no  names  whatever  were  of  arbitrary  imposition, 
but  that  every  word  had  a  sort  of  mystical  propriety.     Socrates  com-  Ridicules  the 
bats  this  doctrine  by  adopting  it,  and  by  producing  the  most  absurd  Jj™logies 
etymons  which  had  been  then  promulgated.     He  proceeds,  too,  in  an  Sophists, 
indirect  attack  on  the  vulgar  mythology,  by  showing  the  suitableness 
of  the  names  of  the  heathen  gods  and  goddesses  to  the  actions  generally 
imputed   to   them.      He   intersperses   hyperbolical   eulogies  on  the  — 
sophists,  with  which  his  hearers  are  represented  to  be  gratified,  as 
indeed  they  were  rather  repetitions  of,  than  parodies  upon,  the  pre- 


62  GEEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

tensions  of  that  fraternity.  Socrates  closes  his  attack  in  a  manner 
more  direct,  by  asking  the  perplexing  question,  how,  if  words  were 
first  established  from  a  knowledge  of  things,  and  a  knowledge  of  things 
could  be  only  acquired  by  the  study  of  words,  language  could  ever 
have  been  formed  at  all.  Such  seems  to  be  the  scope  of  this  dialogue. 
Socrates,  in  an  early  part,  after  throwing  out  a  few  whimsical  and 
mystic  derivations,  hints  that  he  must  have  a  fit  of  inspiration  on  him, 
which  he  can  only  attribute  to  the  benefit  of  a  conversation  he  had 
recently  had  with  Euthyphro.1  He  derives  the  word  hero  from 
(e'pwe),  the  love  of  the  gods  to  mortal  damsels  or  to  goddesses  ;  or 
else  from  (eijotiv),  the  art  of  speaking,  so  as  to  be  synonymous  with 
rhetorician  or  sophist.  He  brings  a  confirmation  of  the  doctrine  of 
Heraclitus,  from  the  origin  of  the  word  Tethys.  He  proves  Pluto 
to  be  the  very  model  of  a  sophist  and  a  philosopher.  He  affects  to 
be  rather  shy  of  going  on  with  the  etymology  of  divinities,  but  begs 
all  his  auditors  will  try  the  mettle  of  Euthyphro's  horses  in  any  other 
particular.  He  then  says  that  he  thinks  the  inventors  of  names,  from 
the  difficulty  of  the  subject,  became  giddy  and  sea-sick,  and  as  their 
heads  swam  round,  they  fancied  all  the  objects  before  them  in  motion. 
He  illustrates  this  by  showing  how  things  remote  in  nature  are  related 
in  language,  till  at  last  he  finds  a  strange  affinity  between  duty  (TO  ^eo^), 
and  mischief  (TO  /3\a/3epov).  He  observes,  that  the  Greek  of  his 
day  may  probably  be  as  different  from  the  original  as  from  a  foreign 
language  ;  that  where  any  words  cannot  be  traced  with  ease,  it  may 
be  convenient  to  look  upon  them  as  of  foreign  extraction.  Socrates, 
upon  being  complimented  by  Cratylus,  repeats  that  he  must  have 
been  inspired  by  Euthyphro,  and  that  he  could  not  help  wondering  at 
the  wisdom  he  had  himself  been  uttering.  He  proceeds  in  tracing 
verbal  affinities,  till  he  finds  guilt  and  intelligence,  intemperance  and 
science,  altogether  synonymous.  Although  Socrates  is  well  known 
to  have  indulged  in  great  latitude  of  irony  ;  although  there  is  scarcely 
a  page  throughout  the  dialogue  which  does  not  bear  some  intimation 
of  banter,  and  the  above  passages  are  obvious,  and  in  a  manner  casually 
extracted,  almost  every  annotator  has  made  up  his  mind  to  consider 
the  dialogue  as  a  serious  and  solemn  discussion  ;  and  the  most  ridicu- 
lous among  the  etymons  have  been  quoted  by  grave  authors2  with 
particular  approbation. 

'  The  Io'  is  throughout  a  banter  on  the  imposture  and  the  extravagant 
pretentious  of  the  rhapsodists,  interspersed  with  some  oblique  insinua- 
tions on  the  inspiration  of  the  poets. 


xut  (*.\v   ^   u   "Ztvxpurtf,  «T8%,v«s  ryi  fiot  $oxt7  ufftftp  0/  ivSu 
iv  ]   "Su.  xa,}  Kinuftoti  vt,  a  'Epftdytv&s,  jMaXwra  otv<rw  a.<ffo 
•ffpofTftyfruxivcct  plot'   \u6tv    yxp  vroXXcc,   O.UTU   trvvriV,  xai   fxf 
xivauvti/it  ovv  iv6oufftuv  ov  [tovov  TO.  UTO,  pov  l/jt.<xXrt<ru.i  <r»J$  daiftovtxs   ffo<Qtat, 
TVS  ^vx^s  *™tii$6w.—  Cratyl.  396. 

a  We  need  only  mention  the  names  of  the  learned  and  very  ingenious  Bryant, 
and  of  Taylor,  to  suggest  to  our  readers  the  extent  to  which  the  tl^uvtia,  of  Socrates 
in  this  dialogue  has  been  misunderstood. 


PLATO.  63 

'  The  Parmenides'  is  altogether  the  most  mysterious  and  incompre- 
hensible of  Plato's  dialogues.  The  resolution  of  all  things  into  one, 
and  the  sameness  of  that  one  through  the  changes  of  all  are  the  grand 
topic.  Great  disputes  have  been  maintained  about  this  unity  of  Par- 
menides, and  some  have  been  willing  to  identify  his  notions  with  the 
Spinozism  of  later  days.  The  opinion  of  Aristotle,1  independently  of 
other  considerations,  seems  conclusive  on  this  point,  and  whatever 
Parmenides  might  mean,  he  certainly  did  not  mean  any  unity  of 
matter. 

It  seems  well  established  that  Plato  at  some  period  visited  the  Visits 
court  of  Dionysius  at  Syracuse.  One  visit  only  of  his  is  mentioned 
by  Diodorus  Siculus  ;  but  the  spurious  letters  which  have  passed  under 
the  name  of  Plato,  have  given  rise  to  very  circumstantial  accounts 
of  three  different  visits.2  Of  that  visit  which  really  took  place,  little 
can  be  satisfactorily  said  ;  and  instead  of  dwelling  on  the  fictions  with 
which  Plato's  biographers  have  embellished  their  accounts  of  his  stay 
in  Sicily,  we  turn  to  the  further  consideration  of  Plato's  dialogues. 

*  The  Philebus'  bears  throughout  marks  of  a  judgment  strengthened 
by  experience,  and  of  an  imagination  and  feelings  mellowed  by  age. 
To  a  student  unacquainted  with   Plato's  writings,  and  desirous   of 
obtaining  a  full  view  of  the  moral  doctrines  of  his  mature  years,  it 
deserves  to  be  recommended,  both  for  the  graces  of  the  composition, 
and  the  sanctity  of  the  precepts  which  it  contains.     It  is  a  mass  of 
moral  wisdom,  inculcated  with  every  charm  of  manner  and  sentiment, 
which  can  captivate  the  imagination  and  interest  the  heart.     It  is 
serious  and  earnest  and  affecting. 

*  The  Commonwealth,'  or,  as  it  is  perhaps  more  properly  entitled, 
'  The  Dialogue  on  Justice,'  was  the  production  of  Plato's  mature 
years,  and  indeed  seems  to  have  been  continually  revised  by  him  till 

the  last  hour  of  his  life.     The  grand  object  of  this  dialogue  is  to  prove  His  doctrine 

that  moral  virtue  is  the  excellence  of  human  nature;  that  moral  conduct  of  Vlrtue< 

independently  of  the  accidents  of  rewards  and  punishments  is  suitable 

to  the  constitution  of  man.     In  the  first  part  he  shows  that  what  is 

just,  is  not  constituted  such  by  arbitrary  enactments,  for  then  what 

was  just  in  one  state  might  be  unjust  in  another,  and  besides  no 

enactment  would  then  be  considered  unjust.      Inferring  that  there 

must  be  some  other  test,  he  proceeds  to  consider  the  human  mind, 

and  discovers  in  it  three  several  faculties  ;  the  desire  of  pleasure,  the 

defensive  faculty,  or  the  principle  of  irritation,  and  Reason.     And,  as 

it  might  be  difficult  to  proceed  with  the  consideration  of  these,  as 

each  balancing  the  other,  or  as  severally  gaining  the  ascendency  in  a 

single  mind,  he  proceeds  to  examine  the  analogous  parts  as  they  dis- 

play themselves  in  that  large  animal,  a  commonwealth.     The  sketch, 

therefore,  of  an  ideal  commonwealth  which  is  introduced,  is  merely  by 


ply  yap  'iotKt   rou  Kara.  %.oyov  ivos  KrtvtifScti,      Mifaffffos  $t  rou  xarat 
rnv  Sx«».—  Arist.  Metaph.  lib.  i.  c.  6. 

2  See  Mitford's  remarks,  'History  of  Greece,'  vol.  viii. 


64  GKEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

way  of  illustration ;  and  the  several  deviations  from  that  perfect  form, 
as  exhibited  in  a  tyranny,  an  oligarchy,  and  a  democracy,  though 
displayed  at  great  length,  and  with  admirable  graphical  effect,  are,  in 
reality,  only  larger  exemplars  brought  in  to  evince  the  disproportions 
and  confusion  which  must  ensue,  from  allowing  an  ascendency  either 
to  the  appetite  for  pleasure,  or  to  the  irritable  propensities,  in  that 
microcosm,  the  human  mind.  The  dialogue,  in  short,  is  throughout 
of  a  moral  cast,  and  the  political  details  are  merely  auxiliary  and  sub- 
sidiary to  the  moral  end.  The  author  shows  that  Reason  must  be 
the  sovereign  legislator,  and  that  the  inferior  faculties  of  the  mind 
must  be  regulated  by  the  mandates  of  their  Queen ;  and  that  happiness 
is  secured  to  the  individual  in  proportion  as  the  higher  faculty  is  well 
exercised  and  enlightened,  and  as  the  subject-propensities  maintain 
their  due  and  orderly  allegiance. 

Independently  then  of  external  circumstances,  a  certain  regularity 
of  conduct  is  required  for  the  peace  and  harmony  of  the  system  within 
us ;  but  the1  author  proceeds  to  show  that  virtue,  besides  bearing  its 
own  reward  here,  in  the  content  and  self-complacency  and  happiness 
which  it  inspires,  has,  as  far  as  tradition  or  conjecture  may  reach,  the 
fairest  chance  of  a  continuance  of  happiness  when  this  life  is  closed. 
In  illustration  of  which  a  very  beautiful  fable  is  introduced. 

Whilst  Plato  considered  morality  to  be  founded  in  the  governance 
of  Reason,  and  government  to  have  its  grand  aim  in  the  promotion  of 
morality,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  he  thought  the  nature  of 
man  and  of  public  societies  would  mutually  illustrate  one  another; 
but  we  think  the  remark  of  a  learned  foreign  critic1  (in  a  work  which 
is  the  best  commentary  that  has  yet  been  published  on  the  design  and 
conduct  of  this  dialogue  of  Plato)  particularly  just,  that  the  excursive 
and  illustrative  portions  of  the  dialogue  have  in  a  manner  overtopped 
those  devoted  to  the  principal  and  direct  subject  of  discussion,  partly 
from  the  disproportionate  extent  of  those  excursive  portions,  arid  more 
particularly  from  the  singularity  of  some  of  the  theories  adopted  in 
them.  It  is  agreed  by  all,  that  Plato  had  great  merit  in  forming 
to  himself  the  notion  of  a  perfect  commonwealth  ;  and  in  considering 
not  merely  existing  institutions,  but  in  endeavouring  to  create  some 
form  of  ideal  excellence,  which  might  serve  as  a  model,  and  as  a  con- 
stant example  not  of  the  practicable  but  of  the  desirable.  It  has, 
however,  been  the  misfortune  of  his  system  to  be  judged  of,  not  in 
the  view  with  which  it  was  formed,  but  to  have  its  particular  parts 
anatomized  without  reference  to  the  whole,  but  as  detached  principles ; 
and  when  so  taken,  their  un suitableness  to  society,  as  it  exists,  has 
been  proved  with  much  dexterity,  and,  indeed,  by  conclusive  argu- 
piato's  idea  rnents.  But  the  object  of  Plato  was  to  conceive  one  perfect  model  to 
monweaith.  which  human  institutions  might  in  some  remote  degree  approximate. 
If  the  perfection  of  human  nature  is  the  annihilation  of  every  selfish 
feeling,  and  the  entire  ascendency  of  a  sense  of  duty,  it  is  to  be  con- 
1  Carol!  Morgenstein,  De  Platonis  Republica  Commentationes  tres. 


PLATO.  -65 

sidered,  what  in  existing  states  of  society  are  the  causes  that  impede 
that  perfection,  that  men  may  at  least  learn  not  to  abandon  themselves 
to  those  propensities,  whatever  they  may  be,  the  indulgence  of  which 
is  so  adverse  to  their  real  interests.  If  free  devotion  to  general  good 
is  impeded  by  the  love  of  lucre,  and  by  the  partialities  of  families 
and  kindred;  if  avarice  is  admitted  to  be  vicious,  and  favour  and 
personal  regards  mischievous  to  the  public,  it  seems  to  result,  that  in 
a  perfect  state  all  property  should  belong  to  the  state,  and  that  indi- 
viduals should  rather  be  members  of  the  great  family  of  the  state  than 
of  private  households.  On  these  grounds,  amongst  other  regulations 
for  citizens  educated  in  a  particular  manner,  brought  up  in  a  strict 
discipline  of  the  passions,  Plato  modified  rather  than  invented  institu- 
tions, which  had  subsisted  in  some  degree  among  the  Cretans  and 
Spartans,1  and  projected  a  community  of  property  and  of  wives. 
Marriages  were  to  be  performed  with  due  ceremonies  at  seasons  to  be 
appointed  by  the  public  functionaries;  but  the  nuptials,  instead  of 
effecting  an  appropriation  for  life,  only  sanctioned  a  temporary  coha- 
bitation ;  so  that  the  offspring  might  not  be  claimed  as  the  exclusive 
property  of  its  individual  father,  but  as  the  offspring  of  the  state. 
Indeed  the  remark  of  Lucian  is  very  just,  that  Plato's  community  of 
wives  was  quoted  as  a  justification  for  the  vilest  prostitution  and  pro- 
fligacy, by  many  persons  who  never  suspected  the  real  meaning  of  the 
author,  or  observed  the  particular  guards  and  regulations  with  which 
Plato  had  encompassed  this  rule,  even  in  a  state  of  beings  supposed 
to  be  exalted  by  every  opportunity  and  preparation  for  moral  and 
intellectual  excellence. 

Connected  with  this  dialogue  are  two  others,  '  The  Timseus '  and 
'  The  Critias,'  the  latter  of  which  is  left  unfinished.  *  The  Timseus* 
contains  a  singular  history  of  the  Cosmogony.  In  this  dialogue  His  Cosmo- 
Timasus  is  introduced,  first  making  the  usual  distinction  between  gony' 
essences,  which  are  the  subject  of  knowledge,  and  accidents  which  are 
the  subjects  of  opinion,  and  then  stating  that  the  divinity  found  a 
mass  of  inordinate  and  turbulent  materials,  which  he  organized  and 
reduced  to  system.  The  opposite  elements  of  fire  and  earth,  he  con- 
sorted by  the  media  of  air  and  water,  and  a  proper  temperament  was 
produced  by  mixing  them  together  in  harmonious  proportions.  One 
world  was  the  result;  which,  as  it  comprehended  in  itself  all  the 
ingredients  in  existence,  and  could  therefore  be  subject  to  no  external 
attrition  or  concussion,  must  remain  undecaying  and  imperishable; 
and,  as  it  comprehended  all  living  beings,  must  be  of  that  figure 
which  is  most  perfect,  and  comprehends  within  itself  all  other  figures, 
namely,  a  sphere.  A  soul  or  principle  of  motion  was  also  created  by 
the  eternal  intelligent  Divinity,  with  which  he  caused  the  universal 
mass  to  be  pervaded  and  invested.  But  Timseus  expressly  observes, 
that  though  in  the  order  of  our  notions,  this  soul  is  conceived  as  pro 

1  See  on   this  head  Cardinal  Bessarion's  work,  Contra  Calumniatorem  Platonis, 
lib.  iv.  c.  2;  Venet.  1516,  p.  69;  and  Morgenstein's  Commentatio. 
[G.  K.  P.]  F 


66  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

duced  subsequently  to  the  mass  which  it  informs,  yet  that,  in  fact, 
this  animating  principle,  as  it  is  more  noble  in  its  nature,  so  must  it 
have  been  more  ancient  in  its  existence.  To  produce  a  connexion 
between  essences  and  accidents  which  seem  of  opposite  natures,  the 
Supreme  Artificer  introduced  the  medium  of  similarities  and  differences, 
and  by  this  medium  many  admirable  ratios  were  effected. 

Time  and          Time  was  produced  at  the  same  time  with  the  world,  and  is,  in  a 
mty'       manner,  a  shadow  or  fleeting  image  of  eternity.     It  is  not,  as  it  were, 
a   particle  discerped  from  eternity,  for  eternity  is  one  ever-present 
thing;  and  our  ordinary  expressions  applicable  to  time  as  the  past, 
the  future,  and  the  present,  so  far  as  used  in  reference  and  in  contra- 
distinction to  the  others,  are  entirely  inapplicable  to  eternity.    Eternity 
is  the  mighty  and  the  real  essence  of  which  time  is  the  unsubstantial 
image,  which  was  born  with  this  visible  world,  and  is  accommodated 
to  its  unsubstantial  nature.     And  to  mark  the  grand  periods  of  time 
the  Supreme  Being  produced  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  planets,  and 
allotted  them  their  positions  and  appropriate  revolutions.1     The  period 
of  a  month  was  produced  when  the  moon  had  completed  her  circle, 
and  a  year  wThen  the  sun  had  perfected  his  revolution.     The  courses 
of  the  other  planets  are  equally  regular  and  significant ;  but  the  neg- 
ligence or  incapacity  of  men,  has  caused  them  hitherto  to  fail  in  ren- 
dering a  perfect  description  of  their  periods.     Out  of  each  of  the 
Creation  of    four  elements,  the  Supreme  Being  created  living  beings;    from  the 
living  teings  £re?  ftie  g0(js  or  beings  indued  with  self-motion  ;  the  revolving  souls 
of  the  starry  sphere,  the  soul  of  the  earth,  which  Timaeus  asserts  to  be 
the  first  and  most  ancient  of  the  created  gods.     The  origination  of 
demons  or  demi-gods,  though  stated  with  some  detail,  is  prefaced  by 
a  declaration  that  it  is  founded  solely  on  tradition ;  and  that,  as  it  was 
given  by  the  personages  themselves,  it  is  therefore  deserving  of  credit. 
The  soul  of  man  was  next  produced,  but  its  high  or  fiery  nature  was 
commingled  with  desire  and  anger,  and  their  concomitant  passions ;  of 
a  nature  indeed  imperishable ;  but  which  to  attain  its  perfection  must 
purge  off  the  dross  and  defilements  of  these  its  meaner  ingredients,  and 
become  purified  from  the  adherence  of  every  gross  and  sensual  ten- 
dency.    The  Supreme  Being  created  all  these  souls,  but  indued  the 
inferior  gods  with  the  power  of  accommodating  them  to  their  several 
perishable  and  material  vehicles.     Timasus  relates  with  great  minute- 
ness, how  with  cramps  and  bonds  of  adamant  invisible  to  human  eyes, 
material  and  immaterial  substances  became  connected,  and  the  soul 
incorporated.     The  nature  of  the  senses,  and  the  reason  of  the  position 
of  the  head  and  body,  are  explained  at  length ;  and  some  profound 
remarks  are  interspersed  on  the  benefit  which  the  intellect  derives, 
even  in  its  most  abstract  speculations,  from  the  suggestions  of  sight ; 
and   grand  philosophic   excellences   are   discovered   in   melody   and 

1  For  the  ablest  dissertation  which  has  yet  appeared  on  this  intricate  subject,  we 
would  refer  our  readers  to  a  short  tract  of  Bockh,  De  Astronomise  Philolaicas  vera 
indole. 


PLATO.  67 

rhythm.  Timaeus  proceeds  to  distinguish  the  qualities  of  the  externa 
world  from  the  essences  to  which  they  assimilate,  or  of  which,  at  most, 
they  only  participate.  A  singular  definition  is  then  given  of  Space.1 

As  all  bodies  were  resolved  into  the  four  elements,  so  the  element-  Properties  of 
ary  bodies  themselves  are  now  resolved  into  figures.     The  different  Matter> 
sorts  of  watery,  aerial,  earthy,  and  fiery  substances  are  enumerated; 
and  definitions  are  given  of  the  opposite  properties  of  heat  and  cold, 
hardness  and  softness,  heaviness  and  lightness,  smoothness  and  rough- 
ness, and  of  the  sensations  of  pleasure  and  pain.     A  description  ensues 
of  the  different  senses,  and  of  the  whole  animal  economy  ;  and  the 
subject  of  divination  is  transiently  glanced  at  in  a  manner  ambiguous 
at  least,  if  not  ironical. 

Several  medical  observations  ensue,  particularly  on  the  preferable- 
ness  of  diet  and  regimen  to  violent  medicines.  The  distempers  of  the 
mind  are  incidentally  touched  upon,  as  sometimes  connected  with 
physical  causes,  and  as  at  other  times  originating  in  the  defects  of 
early  education,  in  which  case  the  parents  or  guardians  are  much  more 
blameworthy  than  the  unfortunate  subject  of  the  malady.  The 
ascendency  of  reason  is  asserted  to  be  something  divine  ;  and  the  pure 
enlightened  reason  is  designated  as  a  demon  or  superior  spirit.  The 
dialogue  closes  with  a  scale  of  the  animal  creation. 

It  is  somewhat  difficult  to  conjecture  for  what  reason  Plato  has 
formed  so  strict  a  connexion  between  his  '  Dialogue  on  Justice  '  and 
'  The  Timaaus,'  except,  perhaps,  it  might  be  his  intention  to  intimate 
to  his  disciples  the  course  in  which  he  wished  such  studies  to  be  pur- 
sued, and  that  he  would  have  them  perfect  themselves  in  morals  before 
they  proceeded  to  the  study  of  these  sublime  metaphysical  investiga- 
tions. 

The  scope  of  '  The  Critias  '  seems  to  have  been  to  introduce  the 
peculiar  political  sentiments  set  forth  in  the  '  Dialogue  on  Justice,'  and 
to  familiarize  them  to  the  Athenians  by  a  sort  of  popular  romance. 
By  assuring  his  countrymen  that  his  ideal  commonwealth  once  existed, 
and  that  their  own  was  the  favoured  country  in  which  such  political 
institutions  had  flourished  in  days  of  which  the  memory  had  long  since 
passed,  he  might  think  to  propitiate  in  favour  of  his  scheme,  those 
national  vanities  and  prepossessions,  which  he  before  probably  offended. 

Plato  attempted  a  work  of  more  practical  utility,  when  he  wrote  his  System  of 
'  System  of  Laws.'     The  five  first  books  of  these,  besides  containing  Laws' 
many  profound  speculations  on  the  general  principles  of  laws  —  on  the 
duties  of  a  legislator,  on  the  propriety  of  accompanying  laws  with  a 
statement  of  the  reasons  which  produce  them,  of  visiting  offences  with 
proportionate  punishments,  and  of  considering  punishments  as  exem- 
plary and  admonitory,  rather  than  vindictive  —  abound  with  more  pithy 
and  pregnant  apophthegms  of  moral  wisdom  than  any  equal  portion 


*  Tpirov  $t  a.u  yivo;  TO  <r»?j  ^ufa;  a,u  tpGopav  ov  •/fpoff^i^ofAivov  zSptzv  at  wxpiy^ov  offK 
i%ti  yivtffiv  -raff  iv,  aura  Be  pir  avKiff0ri<rias  KVTOV  XoyiffftM  <rm  vatica,  ftoyig  vrtirrov, 
x.  r.  A.  p.  52. 

F  2 


68  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

in  the  works  of  Plato.  The  other  books  contain  a  system  both  of 
municipal  and  international  laws,  written  with  so  much  comprehensive- 
ness of  understanding,  and  illustrated  by  so  much  copiousness  and  dis- 
tinctness of  reasoning,  that  whatever  helps  we  may  suppose  Plato  to 
have  received  from  writings  of  his  predecessors  which  are  now  lost,  it 
is  impossible  to  read  them  without  admiration  of  the  author's  sagacity 
and  judgment  and  genuine  humanity.  As  this  was  the  work  of  Plato's 
mature  years,  it  may  be  considered  as  his  last  thoughts  as  a  moralist 
and  politician.  As  a  statesman,  and  speaking  with  practical  views,  he 
never  thinks  of  recommending  any  community  of  goods  or  wives  ;  but 
he  proposes  many  excellent  regulations,  considering  the  condition  of 
females  at  that  time  in  Greece,  for  the  education  and  elevation  of  that 
sex  from  the  comparative  servility  in  which'  they  lived. 

'  The  Minos '  which  is  generally  prefixed  as  introductory  to  the 
'  Book  of  Laws,'  has  been  shown  to  be  spurious  by  an  eminent  foreign 
critic;  and  although  Plato  did  write  an  '  Epinomis,'  or  supplemental 
close  to  his  Laws,  yet  the  same  learned  critic  holds  the  dialogue  which 
we  now  have  under  that  title  to  be  spurious  also. 

Plato's  death,      Plato  died  at  Athens  in  the  first  year  of  the  hundred  and  eighth 

B.  c.  SIP.       Olympiad,  as  it  seems,  of  a  general  decline,  at  the  advanced  age  of 

eighty-one  years.     A  monument  was  raised  to  his  memory*  in  the 

Academy,  inscribed  with  an  epitaph  written  by  his  pupil  Aristotle, 

in  terms  of  gratitude  and  enthusiastic  reverence. 

Certain  dialogues  generally  introduced  in  the  editions  of  Plato,  have 
Spurious  been  long  ago  admitted  to  be  spurious  by  general  consent.  These  are 
writings.  ,  The  Axiochus,'  «  Demodochus,'  *  Eryxias,'  '  Sisyphus,'  '  Clitopho,' 
and  the  two  short  dialogues  on  Justice  and  Virtue.  Other  dialogues 
generally  received  as  genuine,  the  '  Hipparchus,'  '  The  Minos,'  '  The 
Epinomis,'  '  The  Latter  Alcibiades,'  '  The  Rivals,'  '  Clitopho,'  and 
'Theages'  bear  strong  marks  of  spuriousness.  The  dialogues  last 
enumerated  are  accordingly  rejected  by  Bockh,1  Bekker,8  and  Von 
Ast.3  Bekker  and  Von  Ast  also  reject  the  Letters.  Bekker  in  like 
manner  condemns  *  The  First  Alcibiades,'  '  The  Lesser  Hippias,'  and 
'  The  Io.'  Von  Ast  not  only  concurs  in  this  judgment,  but  goes  much 
greater  lengths.  He  questions  the  genuineness  of  '  The  Meno,' 
*  Euthydemus,'  '  Charmides,'  '  Lysis,'  '  Menexenus,'  *  Laches,'  '  The 
Greater  Hippias,'  '  Io,'  «  Euthyphro,'  « The  Defence  of  Socrates,'  « The 
Crito,'  and  the  '  Books  of  Laws.'  In  the  two  '  Hippias '  it  is  true  that 
the  gravity  and  importance  of  the  sophist  are  caricatured  with  almost 
too  great  boldness  and  freedom  of  pencilling,  and  that  the  touches  of 
satire  are  not  of  that  more  reserved  and  delicate  cast  which  generally 
prevails  in  Plato's  style.  But  we  know  not  any  sufficient  reason  for 

1  See  Bockh's  excellent   critical   tract,  entitled  Commentatio   in  Platonis   qui 
vulgo  fatur  Minoem,  ejusdemque  libros  priores  de  Legibus,  Hal.  Sax.  1806. 

2  In  his  edition  of  Plato,  Berlin,  1818. 

3  In  his  Platons  Leben  und  Schrif'ten,  als  einleitung  in  das  studium    des  Platon, 
Lips.  1816,  8vo. 


PLATO.  69 

questioning  their  authenticity.  *  The  lo '  is  undoubtedly  genuine. 
But  the  banter  is  so  admirably  disguised,  and  so  well  kept  up  under 
an  appearance  of  gravity  and  even  solemnity,  that  critics  and  com- 
mentators have  been  as  much  imposed  upon,  as  '  lo '  was  intended  to 
be  in  the  dialogue  by  that  eipwv  Socrates.  It  is  indeed  a  style  of 
irony  the  most  covert  and  insidious ;  and  Socrates  practises  that  very 
method  which  is  said  occasionally  to  have  been  adopted  by  a  moralist1 
in  more  recent  times,  of  the  most  virtuous  character  and  amiable  dis- 
position, "  when  he  found  any  man  invincibly  wrong,  to  flatter  his 
opinions  by  acquiescence,  and  sink  him  yet  deeper  in  absurdity."  The 
resolution  of  all  poetry  into  a  divine  inspiration  actuating  a  being 
otherwise  in  no  respect  superior  to  his  fellow-creatures,  and  in  a 
manner  unconscious  of  the  fine  phrensy  which  he  is  in,  and  the  mag- 
netic process  by  which  the  contagion  of  enthusiasm  is  communicated, 
are  conceived  in  the  happiest  style  of  humour  and  ridicule.  The  in- 
terpreter of  the  poets  is  played  upon  throughout  the  dialogue  so  skil- 
fully and  with  such  fine  effect,  that  he  seems  to  be  flattered  by  com- 
pliments, which  reduce  not  only  his  art,  but  that  of  the  objects  of 
his  idolatry  to  phantasy  and  illusion  ;  and  he  departs  with  a  conviction, 
readily  adopted,  of  the  peculiar  favour  of  heaven,  and  with  every  feel- 
ing of  self-importance  mightily  increased  and  confirmed.  '  The  Laches ' 
is  probably  spurious.  *  The  Euthyphro '  is  very  questionable,  but  may 
have  been  written  by  Plato  at  an  early  period  of  his  life,  and  before 
he  had  become  master  of  the  address  which  he  afterwards  attained  in 
his  mode  of  attacking  vulgar  superstitions.  *  The  Crito '  and  *  The 
Defence  of  Socrates,'  approve  themselves  genuine  by  the  interesting 
manner  in  which  they  are  written,  and  by  the  simplicity  and  elegance 
of  the  style.  On  the  same  ground  we  should  admit  the  '  First  Alcibi- 
ades,'  the  *  Charmides,'  and  '  Lysis.'  The  '  Alcibiades '  is  full  of  good 
sense.  The  '  Charmides  '  and  *  Lysis '  though  less  weighty  in  argu- 
ment, abound  with  delicate  raillery,  and  with  exquisite  touches  of 
manners.  They  have  not,  indeed,  the  same  body  with  the  *•  Alcibiades,' 
but  they  bear  with  them  the  same  genuine  smack  and  raciness.  *  The 
Menexenus '  is,  we  think,  a  satire  on  the  Rhetoricians,  and  a  parody  on 
Lysias.  All  the  topics,  the  connective  particles,  the  modes  of  transi- 
tion from  one  topic  to  another,  the  antithesis,  the  measured  clauses, 
have  something  technical  and  puerile  about  them,  and  are  completely 
alien  from  the  manner  and  arrangement  and  general  style  of  Plato.  If 
*  The  Menexenus '  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  serious  performance,  we 
admit  at  once  that  it  is  no  production  of  Plato ;  but  we  are  inclined 
to  believe  that  it  is  genuine,  and  intended  for  a  parody.  With  regard 
to  the  '  Books  of  Laws,'  it  is  well  established  that  they  were  not  pub-  Books  of 
lished  in  the  lifetime  of  Plato,  but  were  given  to  the  world  after  his  death 
by  Philip  the  Opuntian ;  and  this  circumstance  is  a  sufficient  reason  with 
us  for  the  difference  which  appears  between  them  and  the  generality  of 
the  finished  productions  of  Plato.  The  dramatic  parts  are  very  slightly 
1  Addison.  See  his  life  by  Johnson. 


70  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

sketched.  Von  Ast,  indeed,  considers  the  characters  Megillus,  the 
Athenian  stranger,  &c.,  as  fictitious ;  but  we  see  no  reason  for  sup- 
posing that  they  may  not  have  been  real  personages,  and  that  a  further 
development  would  have  been  given  to  these  points,  and  a  general 
proem  prefixed,  if  the  work  had  received  the  last  touches  of  the 
author's  hand.  The  other  arguments  of  Von  Ast  relating  to  the 
4  Books  of  Laws,'  originate,  we  think,  in  a  misapprehension  of  Plato's 
object  in  his  '  Commonwealth;'  the  direct  object  of  which  was,  as  we 
before  observed,  of  a  moral  nature,  and  the  political  discussions  only 
elucidatory.  In  a  commonwealth,  where  the  individuals  had  by  edu- 
cation been  disciplined  to  a  high  state  of  moral  perfection,  many  details 
might  be  impertinent  or  irrelevant,  which  would  not  only  find  their 
place,  but  would  be  absolutely  necessary  in  a  political  treatise  of  a 
practical  nature,  and  in  framing  a  code  of  laws  to  be  used  by  men,  con- 
stituted as  men  are,  and  not  such  as  they  might  be  fancied  to  become. 
The  notion  that  the  '  Books  of  Laws,'  whoever  they  were  written  by, 
were  intended  by  the  author  as  supplemental,  and  to  be  accommodcited 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Plato's  ideal  commonwealth,  is  surely  not  only  a 
gross  mistake  of  the  nature  of  that  commonwealth,  but  a  perversion 
of  the  object  of  the  *  Books  of  Laws,'  as  declared  and  explained  by  the 
author  himself. 

Such  are  our  reasons  for  considering  these  dialogues  genuine,  though 
doubted  or  rejected  by  Mr.  Von  Ast.  And,  in  our  opinions  of  the 
object  and  turn  of  several  of  these  dialogues,  we  are  sensible  that  we 
trench  very  much  upon  a  certain  formal  definition,  which  a  writer1  of 
most  fastidious  taste  and  timid  genius  has  laid  down  for  the  ancient 
philosophic  dialogue,  This  learned  and  scrupulous  critic  defines  it  to 
be,  "  an  imitated  and  mannered  conversation  between  certain  real, 
known,  and  respected  persons,  on  some  useful  or  serious  subject,  in  an 
elegant  and  suitably  adorned,  but  not  characteristic  style."  And  the 
same  author  attributes  to  the  Promethean  genius  of  Lucian,  the  "  crea- 
tion of  a  new  species,  the  merit  of  which  consists  in  associating  two 
things  not  naturally  allied  together,  the  severity  of  the  philosophic 
dialogue,  with  the  humour  of  the  comic."  That  the  ancient  dialogue 
was  not  always  on  serious  subjects,  and  not  always  in  a  style  not 
characteristic  of  the  speakers,  will  perhaps  be  sufficiently  obvious  to 
any  one  who  studies  '  The  Banquet,'  which  is  admitted  on  all  hands 
to  be  a  genuine  production  of  Plato.  The  characters  of  the  style  of 
the  different  speakers  are  there  preserved  in  the  closest  manner,  and 
were  always  so  understood  by  the  ancients ;  and,  in  one  place,  to  set 
out  the  buffoon  Aristophanes  to  the  very  life,  his  wild  rambling  wit 
is  thrown  into  strong  relief  by  preliminary  incidents  of  the  most  ludi- 
crous nature ;  for  Plato  was  bent,  says  Athenseus,2  upon  comedizing 

1  See  Kurd's  Preface  to  his  Moral  and  Political  Dialogues,  p.  53,  4th  edition. 

2  nx«T«;va  &  TOV  (iiv  vvro  TOV  Xvyyos  o^Xouf^ivov  xa.}  6ifa,--nvof<.ivov  oLv 
tffiara;'  tv  $t  TUIS  vtfoGviXKis  rou  xupQous,  "va  T»;y  pTvet.  xivfiffas  •rrufn  vrnffafu 
ya,^  jjVtAs,  x.  T.  X. — Deipnosop.  lib.  v.  vol.  i.  p.  187.  Ed.  Causabon. 


PLATO.  71 

and  scoffing  the  comedian.  That  Plato  parodied  Lysias,  and  mocked 
his  artificial  and  balanced  sentences,  his  formal  antithesis  and  set 
cadences,  we  may  rest  assured  on  the  evidence  of  Plutarch,  who  men- 
tions it  as  an  ingenious  way  of  dealing  with  an  adversary,  to  surpass 
him  in  his  own  style,  as  Plato  did  Lysias.  But  we  are,  perhaps,  argu- 
ing this  point  too  seriously,  and  too  much  at  length,  since  all  that  the 
critic  probably  intended,  was  to  give  a  definition  of  his  own  dialogues  ; 
and,  as  applied  to  those  refined  and  most  elegant  compositions  of  his, 
the  definition  is  perfect. 

In  attempting  an  outline  of  Plato's  philosophy,  we  fully  admit  the  Outline  of 
justice  of  Wyttenbach's1  remark,  that  no  abstract  can  give  an  adequate  foph°y!Ph 
notion  of  the  merits  of  the  original.  Plato  has  two  great  excellences 
in  the  highest  degree,  which  any  attempt  to  represent  to  the  reader 
in  the  course  of  an  abstract  must  entirely  fail.  The  first,  is  his 
method  of  opening  and  investigating  his  subject,  so  that  unforeseen 
truths  are  elicited,  in  a  manner  at  once  surprising  and  satisfactory, 
from  the  most  obvious  premises,  and  from  axioms  which  every  under- 
standing recognises.  The  other  is,  that  his  diction,  figurative  as  it  is, 
is  in  the  greatest  degree  proper  and  philosophical ;  what  is  called  his 
poetry,  is,  in  fact,  a  chain  of  continued  argument,  and  of  animated 
illustration.  So  that  his  writings,  extensive  as  they  are,  are  really 
much  more  incapable  of  abridgment  or  condensation,  than  many 
persons  are  inclined  to  imagine  from  a  first  view  of  their  expanded 
diction  and  dialogue  form.  We  must  honestly  confess,  therefore, 
that  we  can  present  our  readers  with  a  little  more  than  a  sketch  of 
the  most  prominent  points  of  Plato's  philosophy,  which  we  have 
collected,  however,  not  from  previous  compendiums,  but  from  the 
original  works  of  our  author.  To  enable  our  learned  readers  to 
judge  how  far  we  are  borne  out  by  the  original,  we  shall  support  our 
sketch  by  quotations  or  references  to  the  passages  upon  which  we 
principally  rely.  One  or  two  translations  of  a  larger  nature  we  shall 
intersperse,  that  our  English  readers  may  be  brought  acquainted  in 
some  degree  with  the  peculiar  manner  in  which  the  subject  sought  is 
evolved  in  Plato's  dialogues.  But  the  more  we  study  the  subject, 
the  more  we  are  convinced  of  the  truth  of  a  remark  made  by  the 
learned  and  amiable  foreign  critic  just  mentioned,  that  Plato's  system 
can  only  be  adequately  learned  by  a  full  and  thorough  perusal  of  his 
dialogues  in  the  original;  and  that  those  who  wish  to  master  the 
subject,  must  have  recourse  to  that  means  alone,  and  must  not  rely 
upon  compendiums,  the  best  of  which  cannot  but  be  extremely  im- 
perfect. We  shall  be  well  pleased  if  the  following  outline  serves  the 
purpose  of  stimulating  curiosity,  and  of  promoting  the  study  of  an 
author,  whose  merits  and  beauties  have  not,  we  think,  of  late  been 
sufficiently  appreciated  in  this  country. 

Philosophy   was    divided    by    Plato    into   three    parts :    Morals,  pj1]j^°0nshof 

1  See  his  Epistola  Critica  ad  Van  Heude,  prefixed  to  Van  Heude's  Specimen  Cri- 
ticum  in  Platonem.     Lugd.  Bat.  1818. 


7  2  GREEK  '  PHILOSOPHY. 

Physics,  and  Dialectic.  Under  Morals  he  comprehended  Politics; 
and  under  Physics,  that  science  which  was  afterwards  distinguished 
by  the  name  of  Metaphysics. 

Plato's  Moral  Of  Plato's  moral  doctrines  the  most  important  are,  that,  inde- 
pendently of  other  ends,  virtue  is  to  be  pursued  as  the  proper  per- 
fection of  man's  nature  ;l  that  vice  is  a  disease  of  the  mind,  originating 
in  some  delusion  or  misapprehension  of  our  proper  interests  ;2  that  the 
real  freedom  of  a  rational  being  consists  in  his  being  able  to  regulate 
his  conduct  by  the  determinations  of  his  Reason  ;  that  every  person 
who  is  not  guided  by  his  Reason,  encourages  insubordination  in  the 
faculties  of  his  mjnd,  and  becomes  the  slave  of  caprice  or  passion  ;3 
that  a  course  of  virtuous  conduct,  independently  of  its  advantages  to 
society,  is  beneficial  to  the  individual  practising  it,  as  insuring  that 
regularity  of  imagination,  that  tranquillity  and  internal  harmony  which 
is  the  mind's  proper  happiness.4 

The  earnestness  of  a  virtuous  mind  in  the  attainment  of  truth,  and 
the  propriety  of  pursuing  the  ordinary  gratifications  of  life,  only  so 
far  as  they  are  subservient  to,  or  at  least  compatible  with,  man's 
higher  and  nobler  duties,5  are  topics  insisted  upon  and  adverted  to 
with  peculiar  force  and  frequency.  But,  perhaps,  a  more  complete 

Summary,  summary  cannot  be  given  of  the  principal  points  of  Plato's  Morals, 
than  is  contained  in  the  following  passage,  extracted  from  his  own 
writings.  It  is  at  the  commencement  of  his  fourth  *  Book  of  Laws,* 
and  the  remarks  with  which  it  closes  on  the  coincidence  of  the  pre- 
cepts of  morality  with  the  conclusions  of  prudence  and  enlightened 
self-love,  though  written  in  a  more  popular  manner  than  most  of 
Plato's  moral  dissertations,  are  very  happily  conceived. 

"It  remains  to  consider  by  what  mode  of  life  a  man  may  best 
consult  his  own  interests,  so  that  he  may  not  be  merely  restrained  by 
the  necessity  of  obeying  the  laws,  and  by  a  fear  of  punishment,  but 
may  be  influenced  by  a  kindly  regard  towards  the  laws,  as  being 
sensible  that  what  is  established  is  for  his  benefit.  This  point  then 
we  proceed  to  consider.  Truth,  in  the  sight  of  heaven  and  of  man, 

1  'AptTtt  ftlv  cipx  us  toixtv   vy'mx  vi  rig  xv  ZIYI  xx}  xxX\os  xou   ili^ioc.  ^u^fis.  —  De 
Republ.  lib.  iv.  p.  444.  et  Gorg.  pp.  491,  492. 

2  Kxxix  $1  voffog  Ti  xxi  Attr^og  xxi  xtrOivtix.  —  De  Republ.  qua  supra. 

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Republ.  lib.  ix.  p.  577. 

4  "OTI  £s  xai  TK$  apiTa;  riyi~<ro  aTva/  01  avTff.s  aipSTK?  u;  a,xo^.ov6ov  ys,  ^.yifrsov  TM 
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fAa.Xtffrx  iv  oA.»j  T>J  HaXir'na.  --  Albini,  iiira-y.  tts  TO.  <rov  TlXetTeavo?  VoyfAKra,,  cap.  27. 

*  Ovxovv  %yt,  vow  £%&>v  V&VTK  TO.  KUTOV   tig  TOVTO  ffWTtivcts  fiiufftTKi^  vrpurov  fttv   TO, 


O.VTM  <rnv  -wxviv  a.<7ri%yu.ffi7a.i,  vu.  >  ctXXa  art/uaeav 
y  t'lfov  rwv  TOU  ffu(&tt,<ro$  \%iv  xa.}  Tgetyytv  ov^  owug  Tin,  6y\^nuou  XKI 
<L\oyw  faovy  '^tT^i^a.;  \vra.u6oc,  T^T^ctf^uivog  &ffii,  etAXe  ovSt  wge;  vy'nixv  fixivrvv,  ov^l 
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IAIVOS  tyxiwiTxi.  —  De  Republ.  ix.  p.  591. 


PLATO.  73 

is  the  noblest  good;  and  a  man  who  would  enjoy  happiness,  is 
desirous  at  the  earliest  moment  to  partake  of  Truth,  that  he  may 
spend  as  much  of  his  time  as  possible  in  the  course  of  sincerity,  for 
such  an  one  is  a  sincere  character.  But  he  is  insincere  who  practises 
voluntary  falsehood ;  and  he  is  simple  who  practises  it  involuntarily. 
Nor  is  either  of  these  conditions  to  be  admired.  For  every  insincere 
and  simple  person  is  friendless,  and  his  true  character  being  detected 
in  course  of  time,  he  ends  his  days  in  dreary  solitude.  Since, 
whether  his  family  and  acquaintance  still  live  or  not,  his  life  is  almost 
equally  lonely.  That  man  is  to  be  respected,  who  is  guilty  of  no 
injustice  himself,  but  doubly  or  more  than  doubly  does  he  deserve 
respect,  who  will  not  allow  injustice  to  be  committed  by  others. 

"  Let  that  man  who  assists  the  magistrates  in  punishing  vice,  be 
proclaimed  a  great  and  perfect  character,  and  let  him  receive  the 
crown  of  virtue.  And  let  the  same  praise  be  given  respecting  tem- 
perance and  wisdom,  and  all  other  good  qualities  which  a  man 
not  only  possesses  in  himself,  but  is  able  to  impart  to  others.  The 
person  able  so  to  impart,  should  be  respected  in  the  highest  degree ; 
and  next  to  him,  he  who,  though  unable,  is  at  least  willing  to  impart. 
But  the  man  of  an  envious  nature,  who  would  grudge  to  others  the 
blessings  which  he  himself  enjoys,  deserves  reprehension.  Nor  ought 
we  to  disparage  any  virtue  which  is  misapplied,  but  rather  to  be 
desirous  to  attain  it  if  we  can.  And  let  every  one  enter  on  a  course 
of  virtuous  emulation,  but  devoid  of  envy.  For,  by  such  conduct, 
while  men  improve  themselves,  instead  of  engaging  in  calumnies  and 
detraction  against  others,  they  benefit  the  community.  But  an 
envious  character,  who  seeks  to  raise  himself  by  depreciating  others, 
not  only  makes  no  advances  himself  towards  real  virtue,  but  by  his 
aspersions,  he  does,  as  far  as  he  has  power,  discourage  others  from 
the  pursuit  of  excellence,  and  checks  the  advance  of  his  country 
towards  real  eminence. 

"It  is  also  right  that  a  man  should  be  at  once  courageous  and 
mild ;  for  it  is  impossible  to  rid  oneself  of  the  severe,  and  extreme  or 
irremediable  injuries  of  others,  otherwise  than  by  struggling  against 
them,  and  by  overcoming  them,  and  executing  exemplary  vengeance. 
And  such  a  struggle  cannot  be  entered  upon  without  courage  and 
resolution.  On  the  other  hand,  with  regard  to  such  injuries  as  are 
remediable,  we  ought  to  reflect  first  of  all,  that  injustice  originates  not^ 
in  any  perverseness  of  the  will,  but  in  a  defect  of  the  understanding; 
for  the  perpetrator  of  evil  does  the  greatest  mischief  to  his  own  mind  ; 
and  no  one  voluntarily  and  intentionally  seeks  what  is  mischievous  to 
himself,  least  of  all,  when  it  is  mischievous  in  the  highest  degree. 
But  a  man's  mind,  as  we  before  observed,  is  that  which  is  deserving 
of  the  greatest  respect.  Now,  in  that  part  of  himself  which  is  de- 
serving of  the  greatest  respect,  no  one  would  voluntarily  bring  on  the 
greatest  evil,  when  that  evil  too  would  continue  through  life.  But  a 
man  who  is  unjust,  and  who  is  possessed  with  evil  propensities,  is 


74  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

truly  an  object  of  commiseration ;  and  we  ought  to  pity  such  a  being 
while  the  malady  is  remediable,  and  restrain  our  sentiments  of  resent- 
ment, and  not  be  carried  off  with  the  violence  and  zealous  indignation 
of  the  weaker  sex.  But,  where  a  man  is  incurably  mischievous,  and 
irretrievably  wicked,  we  ought  then  to  administer  justice  unmingled 
with  mercy.  And  for  this  reason  it  was,  we  said,  that  a  virtuous 
character  ought  at  once  to  be  resolute  and  mild.  But  the  greatest 
evil  is  that  which  takes  deepest  root  in  the  heart  of  man,  and  for 
which,  whilst  each  shows  some  indulgence  to  himself,  no  cure  can  be 
devised ;  and  this  proceeds  from  that  self-love  which  is  supposed  to 
be  innate  in  man's  nature,  and  which,  under  proper  regulations,  is 
itself  an  important  duty.  But  the  excess  of  this  is  the  source  of  all 
crimes,  for  affection  blinds  the  judgment  in  this,  as  in  all  other  cases ; 
and  the  man  who,  instead  of  regarding  the  real  relations  of  things,  is 
constantly  observing  his  own  situation,  will  very  imperfectly  discern 
what  is  just,  or  honourable,  or  proper.  For  a  man  who  would  be  really 
great,  ought  not  to  attach  his  regard  to  self  or  his  own  vulgar 
interests,  but  to  virtue ;  whether  the  results  lead  to  his  own  personal 
gratification,  or  to  that  of  others.  But  it  is  from  an  error  on  this 
point  that  many  deem  their  own  folly  to  be  wisdom,  and  whilst  in  a 
state  of  the  grossest  delusion  believe  themselves  in  a  manner  omni- 
scient. From  the  same  cause  we  sometimes  undertake  what  we  are 
incapable  of  performing,  because  we  will  not  allow  those  to  perform 
it  who  are  capable ;  and  would  rather  blunder  ourselves  than  admit 
that  others  are  better  informed,  whilst  in  truth  we  ought  to  feel  no 
shame  in  following  and  imitating  those  who  are  really  our  superiors. 
There  are  other  points  too,  which,  though  they  are  of  less  importance 
than  those  which  we  have  touched  upon,  and  of  a  very  trite  nature, 
may  yet  bo  equally  serviceable,  and  which  it  may  be  well  to  recall  to 
mind.  For  the  stream  of  knowledge,  as  it  seems  constantly  to  flow 
away  from  the  mind,  should  be  constantly  replenished ;  and  recollec- 
tion is  but  the  reflux  of  ebbing  knowledge.  All  extremes  in  the 
expression  of  joy  and  grief  are  to  be  avoided,  and  the  excesses  of  the 
passions  themselves  are  to  be  restrained ;  so  that  we  may  acquire 
and  maintain  a  dignified  moderation,  whether  our  fortunes  are  suc- 
cessful and  our  guardian  spirit  seems  to  smile  upon  us,  or  whether 
the  spirits  of  nature  seem  to  be  engaged  in  opposition  to  us,  com- 
pelling us  to  surmount  by  our  own  virtue  the  arduous  and  steep 
ascent.  We  should  then  rely  on  the  favour  which  Providence  always 
shows  to  the  good,  that  he  will  smooth  the  path  of  pain,  and  requite 
grief  with  gladness,  and  that  the  day  of  prosperity  will  follow  the 
night  of  sorrow.  Every  man  should  support  himself  under  trials 
with  such  hopes ;  and,  whether  in  serious  or  in  cheerful  mood,  each 
should  revolve  in  his  own  mind,  and  communicate  to  those  around 
him,  such  cheering  and  such  consolatory  views  of  the  dispensations  of 
Providence. 

"  So  far  with  regard  to  models  of  excellence,  and  the  perfection  of 


PLATO.  75 

the  human  character.  But,  since  perfection  is,  in  fact,  not  attainable 
by  man,  we  must  proceed  in  a  less  elevated  strain,  and  consider  whafc 
is  practicable,  and  give  such  rules  as  may  be  of  use  in  the  regulation 
of  conduct.  Man's  sensations  and  desires  form  a  very  considerable 
part  of  his  constitution.  By  these  he  is  influenced  in  all  he  does, 
and  upon  the  nature  of  these  his  happiness,  in  a  great  degree,  de- 
pends. We  certainly  ought  to  commend  the  most  virtuous  sort  of 
life,  not  merely  because  it  is  most  conducive  to  good  character,  but 
because,  if  steadily  and  uniformly  pursued  from  youth  upwards,  it 
far  exceeds  any  other  in  those  particulars  which  are  the  objects  of 
universal  desire,  in  the  attainment  of  pleasure,  and  in  the  exemption 
from  pain.  This,  indeed,  is  evidently  the  case  where  a  man's  desires 
are  well  regulated.  But  by  what  means  this  just  regulation  of  desire 
is  effected,  whether  by  the  power  of  some  inherent  and  connate  facul- 
ties, or  by  the  light  of  experience,  may  require  some  consideration. 
But  we  may  form  a  comparative  estimate  of  the  pleasurableness  or 
painfulness  of  some  modes  of  life  upon  the  following  grounds.  We 
wish  to  partake  of  pleasure,  but  pain  we  neither  prefer  nor  desire. 
A  state  of  indifference  we  do  not  wish  for,  as  compared  with  plea- 
sure, but  yet  we  prefer  it  to  pain.  Nor  can  we  say  that  we  wish  to 
have  an  equal  share  of  pleasure,  if  attended  with  equal  pain.  In 
number,  therefore,  and  magnitude  and  intensity,  pleasures  and  pains 
surpass  or  equal,  or  are  less  one  than  another,  as  objects  whether  of 
desire  or  of  aversion. 

"  Such  being  the  state  of  things,  a  life,  in  which  there  are  many  of 
both  sorts,  and  these  great  and  intense,  but  where  the  pleasures  pre- 
dominate, we  should  wish,  but  where  the  contrary,  we  should  not  wish. 
So  again,  a  life  in  which  there  were  few  of  each  sort,  and  these  small 
and  moderate,  but  where  the  pains  exceeded,  we  should  not  wish ;  but 
where  the  contrary,  we  should  wish.  So  that  where  there  is  an  equi- 
librium of  pleasures  and  pains,  the  mind  feels  a  kind  of  indifferency ; 
it  would  wish  a  course  of  life  where  the  objects  of  desire  preponderate, 
and  would  decline  a  course  of  life  where  the  objects  of  aversion  pre- 
ponderate. 

"  These  are  all  the  different  modes  of  life;  and  if  we  imagine  there 
are  any  others  besides  these,  we  only  imagine  such  things  from  an  ig- 
norance and  inexperience  of  the  nature  of  things.  It  may  be  well, 
therefore,  to  arrange  and  classify  the  different  modes  of  life,  that  each 
man,  by  selecting  that  which  is  best  calculated  to  produce  a  more  un- 
alloyed succession  of  pleasures,  or  a  greater  uniformity  and  permanence 
of  satisfaction,  may  so  best  insure  his  own  general  happiness. 

**  We  may  term  one  sort  of  life  a  life  of  temperance,  another  of 
prudence,  another  of  valour,  another  of  health.  To  these  we  may  op- 
pose four  others,  a  life  of  folly,  of  cowardice,  of  intemperance,  of  dis- 
ease. Whoever  is  acquainted  with  a  life  of  temperance,  knows  that  it 
is  moderate  in  all  particulars,  that  it  affords  moderate  pleasures,  mode- 
rate desires  and  affections.  That  an  intemperate  man  is  violent  in  all 


7  6  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

these  particulars;  that  his  pains  and  pleasures  are  in  excess,  that  his 
desires  are  tempestuous,  and  his  affections  frantic  and  irregular.  That 
in  a  temperate  life  the  pleasures  exceed  the  pains ;  but  that  in  an  intem- 
perate life,  the  pains  exceed  the  pleasures,  in  extent,  in  number,  and 
in  intensity.  According  to  the  constitution  of  nature,  therefore,  one 
of  these  modes  of  life  is  more  agreeable  and  the  other  more  painful ; 
and  no  man  who  desires  to  live  a  life  of  real  enjoyment,  would  volun- 
tarily prefer  a  life  of  intemperance.  If  this  be  so,  every  intemperate 
man  is  such  not  by  the  exercise  of  a  free  will ;  but  either  from 
some  defect  in  their  understandings,  or  from  the  unruliness  of  their 
passions,  or  from  a  concurrence  of  these  circumstances,  the  mass  of 
mankind  pass  their  lives  destitute  of  temperance.  With  regard  to  a. 
life  of  disease  or  of  health,  we  must  form  the  like  reflections ;  that 
they  both  have  their  pleasures  and  their  pains;  that  in  a  state  of 
health  the  pleasures  exceed  the  pains,  but  in  a  state  of  disease  the 
pains  exceed  the  pleasures.  Now  the  object  of  our  selection  with 
regard  to  the  modes  of  life,  was  not  one  in  which  pain  predominates ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  we  agreed  that  was  preferable  in  which  the  pain 
was  surpassed  by  the  pleasures.  But  a  temperate  man  surpasses  an 
intemperate  one,  a  prudent  man  an  imprudent  one,  inasmuch  as  the 
pains  which  he  has  are  fewer,  and  less  intense,  and  of  shorter  con- 
tinuance. The  modes  of  life  then  of  the  temperate,  the  brave,  the 
prudent,  and  the  healthy,  are  far  more  desirable  than  those  of  the  das- 
tardly, and  the  intemperate,  the  imprudent,  and  the  diseased.  So  that, 
to  sum  up  all,  the  man  who  has  any  excellence,  whether  bodily  or 
mental,  so  far  passes  a  more  agreeable  life  than  the  man  who  has  any 
infirmity  or  depravity.  And  besides  this  direct  agreeableness,  such 
excellence  is  preferable  on  account  of  its  comeliness,  its  consistency 
with  nature,  its  serviceableness  to  others,  and  the  character  which  ac- 
companies it.  So  that  one  who  is  blessed  with  virtuous  habits,  passes 
a  life  more  happy  than  one  under  opposite  circumstances  in  every  par- 
ticular whatsoever." 

Plato  as  a  As  a  politician,  Plato  considered  that  the  great  object  of  laws  was 
ian>  to  provide  for  the  natural  accommodation  of  the  members  of  the  com- 
munity, as  subsidiary  and  in  subordination  to  the  cultivation  of  their 
moral  virtues.1  He  considered  the  perfection  of  the  state  to  consist 
not  solely  in  the  health,  beauty,  strength,  and  wealth  of  the  individuals 
composing  it,  but  also  in  their  prudence,  temperance,  justice,  and  for- 
titude.8 He  complains  that  legislators  in  general  had  only  attended  to 
the  inferior  qualities,  and  had  neglected  all  the  superior,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  fortitude.  In  Crete  and  in  Sparta,  prudence  and  justice 
were  notoriously  disregarded,  and  temperance  was  only  so  far  con- 
sidered, as  the  practice  of  it  was  necessary  to  one  species  of  fortitude.3 
Plato  illustrates  with  great  ability  the  decline  and  decay  of  states  from 
that  momentary  elevation  and  meridian  of  grandeur  which  success  in 

1  De  Legg.  lib.  i.  »  Ibid.  lib.  i.  3  Ibid.  lib.  i. 


PLATO.  77 

arms  had  obtained,  in  consequence  of  sacrificing  to  vulgar  conceptions 
of  interest  and  policy,  and  to  an  overweening  ambition,  the  duty  of 
self-command  and  the  eternal  principles  of  justice.1 

Plato  perceived  the  inconveniences  resulting  from  the  Cretan  and 
Lacedaemonian  system  of  public  messes  and  of  naked  exercises  ;  yet  he 
seemed  to  think  that  convivial  meetings  under  proper  directions  might 
be  of  great  service  both  in  promoting  humanity  and  fellowship,  and  in 
discovering  the  true  characters  of  individuals.2  He  defined  education 
to  be  that  which  qualifies  men  to  become  good  citizens,  and  renders 
them  fit  to  govern  or  to  obey.3  He  thought  it  most  important  that 
the  early  principles  instilled  into  the  minds  of  youth  should  be  those 
of  strict  moral  virtue,  and  considered  that  if  poems  and  fables  early 
taught  were  able  to  impress  the  mind  through  life  with  a  belief  of  the 
most  improbable  fictions,  that  the  same  means  might  be  applied  with 
not  less  success  for  inculcating  realities  and  important  truths.4  Wine, 
he  was  so  far  from  prohibiting,  that  he  recommended  the  moderate  use 
of  it  from  eighteen  to  forty,  and  after  that  age  a  more  free  indulgence.5 
He  considered  idleness  as  the  bane  of  all  virtue,  and  urged  to  industry 
as  the  grand  source  not  only  of  wealth  but  of  happiness.6  He  per- 
ceived with  great  clearness  the  advantages  resulting  from  the  sub- 
division of  labour,  and  pointed  out  the  necessity  and  natural  progress 
of  such  subdivision  in  proportion  as  civilization  advances.7  As  to 
crimes,  Plato  considered  them  as  originating  in  a  love  of  pleasure,  in 
passion,  or  in  ignorance  and  folly.8  He  esteemed  it  the  duty  of  every 
citizen  to  respect  the  established  religion  of  the  country,  and  he  recom- 
mended that  the  religious  ceremonies  should  be  accompanied  with  fes- 
tivities, and  be  enlivened  by  the  association  of  songs  and  dances.9  It 
may,  however,  be  incidentally  remarked,  as  a  strong  argument  against 
the  opinions  which  many  have  entertained  in  modern  times  of  the 
nature  of  the  Orphic  and  Bacchic  mysteries,  that  Plato  misses  no  op- 
portunity of  animadverting  on  the  verses  which  were  current  under  the 
name  of  Orpheus,10  and  that  he  excludes  the  Bacchic  dance,  as  some- 
thing unaccountable  and  unsuited  to  any  purpose  of  policy,  from  any 
new  state  that  may  be  established,  and  barely  tolerates  it  in  any  old 
state,  in  which  it  may  happen  already  to  exist  among  ancient  usages.11 
Plato  observes,  too,  on  the  necessity  of  accommodating  laws  to  the 
character  and  prevailing  temper  of  the  inhabitants,  and  remarks  that 

1  De  Legg.  lib.  ii.  *  Ibid.  lib.  viii.  3  Ibid.  lib.  ii. 

4  Ibid.  lib.  ii.  s  Ibid.  lib.  ii.  6  Ibid.  lib.  vii. 

7  De  Republic*,  lib.  i.         8  De  Legg.  lib.  ix.  »  Ibid.  lib.  ix. 

10  De  Republic^,  lib.  ii. 
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TO  yivo; 


oox&t  o"%ioov  ogoTxrov  KIITO  iiva.1,  %&>£/?  piv  &o?t.&f&txot>,  ")^uis  o    iigrivtxoti     IV-TKS   tiwttv 
us  ov*  iffTi  foXirMov  TOUTO  <rqs  o(>%ri<rius  TO  yivos,  ivTcttJ^a.  $1  xiiptvov  iKtra,v<ra.s   x{io-6a,i 
vyy  \iii  TO    iroXtfuxov   oifta,   xa,i    tio^yixov    u$    a.votf&tyio'firii'us  flfttTieov 
De  Legg.  lib.  vii.  p.  815. 


78  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

there  is  a  great  and  striking  difference  between  the  characters  of 
the  inhabitants  of  different  countries,  whether  the  circumstance  is  to 
be  attributed  to  the  climate,  or  to  some  peculiar  constitution,  or  to 
whatever  other  cause.1  Against  trade  and  navigation  Plato  enter- 
tained considerable  prejudice.  Like  all  statesmen  of  old  times,  he 
interfered  unnecessarily  in  the  detail  of  personal  economy,  and  pro- 
posed the  establishment  of  numerous  and  trivial  sumptuary  laws.  He 
considered,  too,  a  part  of  the  human  race  as  necessarily  destined"  to 
slavery,  but  his  regulations  in  regard  to  the  slaves  are  full  of  consider- 
ation and  humanity. 

But  Plato's  moral  and  political  system  received  its  completion  from 
His  Natural  his  doctrines  of  natural  theology.  The  Supreme  Being  was  considered 
Theology.  ^  k|m  ag  a  kemg  of  perfect  benevolence,  who  willed  the  good  of  the 
system  which  he  had  organized,  and  whose  providence  was  constantly 
engaged  in  its  superintendence.  Negligence,  or  love  of  ease,  or  some 
other  weakness  is  generally  the  cause  of  human  indifference  or  neglect; 
but  such  imperfections  are  inconsistent  with  the  first  notions  of  God.2 
He  thought  that  to  suppose  God  intent  only  on  affairs  of  great  moment, 
and  indifferent  about  minor  concerns  and  petty  details,  is  a  mere  error, 
originating  in  like  manner  from  our  imputing  to  a  higher  intellect  the 
shortsightedness  and  distractions  incident  to  ourselves,  and  from  the 
difficulty  of  our  apprehending  the  nature  of  a  perfect  being.3  Plato 
urges  too,  that  it  is  a  mark  of  a  narrow  and  contracted  mind  to  infer 
from  any  disasters  or  misadventures  which  seem  to  befall  individuals, 
that  the  world  is  out  of  order,  and  that  there  is  no  wise  superintending 
providence.  The  system  of  the  universe  is  regulated  by  general  prin- 
ciples, and  as  far  as  the  nature  of  the  materials  would  allow,  every- 
thing is  adjusted  so  as  to  produce  the  highest  good  both  of  the  whole 
and  of  the  parts.  But  particular  must  give  way  to  general  interests  ; 
and  each  individual  should  consider  that  the  world  was  not  framed  for 
him  alone,  but  that  his  good  is  in  a  sense  merely  relative,  and  to  be 
viewed  in  subordination  to  the  good  of  the  whole  system.4  Never- 
theless, the  virtuous  man  has  no  ground  for  doubt  as  to  the  conduct 
he  should  pursue,  or  for  despair  in  whatever  difficulties  he  may  be  cir- 

1  De  Legg.  lib.  v.  p.  746.  b.  2  Ibid.  lib.  x.  p.  900,  et  seq. 

3  Mfl  roivvv  rov  yt  6iov  dQiuffiaftiv  rtan   Svriruv   lytpiov^yuv  (pauXorsgov  o'l  TO. 

'offU  *7tlQ  KV  Kf/.itVOV;  Ciiffl  rOff&>  oLxOlfilffTtaK   XIX,}  TtXturt 


fffiixp^u,  xou  fjt,iyo.^.oc,  uvrtgycifyvrar  rov  $1  6tov  ovrtx,  n.  ffotyurctrov  (2>ov\d[Jt,iv6v  r 
X.i7ff@Ki  XKI   ^uvoifAtvov  uv  [&iv  folov  w  trfifA&Ti&vvai  fffjt.ix.puv  cvruv  (jt,v$a,(jw  {wifAiXiitrtla.i 
x,a,6u,'7fio  d-p^yov  t]  Js/XoV  rivet  S/a  vrovov;  pexfoftouvra,  ruv  $1  pt,ya.\uv.  —  De  Legg.  lib.  x. 
p.  902. 

4  TJti&uftsv  rov  veaviKv  <ro~s  Xayais  uf  rS  rov  tfcivro;  'v7ri(t,t,\ovp,iv(p  vrgcs  rqv  ffarvgiav 
*«/  cifllrriv  rov  o'Xav  /ravr'  iffn  ffwrtrdyjAtva,,  uv  xat  ro  ftspbs  t"s  ^uvaftiv  'IxKffrov  ro 
vr/30ffn»ov  <ra<r%£;  xctl  vro'ui)  rovroig  S'  ti'ffiv  a.g%ovrts  •ff^offrtffrayfJt.tvoi  x.  r.  X.  eSv  iv  xett 
ro  ffov  u  ff^irXit  ftopiov  t'ig  rn  yfaiv  %uvriivn  /SX£<yov  oLst,  xetlnp  <ffKVfffjt,ixoov  ov,  at  ^>\ 
Z.i)<.n6i  <fftp^  reuro  uvro  a;  yi\iff};  IVIXK  Ixtivou  yiynrcti  faffot,.  bfivs  y  %  rif  rov  wavros 
fitci)  v-xa.^ovffa.  lu^aiftuv  outria  ov^  '{vino,  ffov  yiyvoptvyr  ffv  %l  'tvixa,  tKltvav  ffv  ^l  a.ya.- 
vctxrriffiis  a.yvoeav  owy  ro  *vio\  fff,  cLoiffrov  rea  fiivri  l^vf&fioitYit,  Ktti  ffoi  xctrx  ovvufjiiv  TJJV 
r?j  xoivn;  ywiffiu;.  —  De  Legg.  lib.  x. 


PLATO,  79 

cumstanced.  For  the  human  mind  is  so  constituted,  that  virtue  brings 
with  it  its  own  satisfactions  and  consolations  ;  and  indeed,  the  course 
of  human  affairs,  irregular  as  it  may  seem,  is  so  tempered,  that  virtue 
will  sooner  or  later  prevail,  whilst  vice  brings  with  it  not  only  its  own 
stings,  but  also  inherent  seeds  of  decay  and  downfal.1  To  despair 
under  any  circumstances  is  a  mark  of  self-willedness  and  of  disloyalty 
to  Providence.  The  good  being  will  never  eventually  desert  that 
spirit  which  has  aspired  as  far  as  its  faculties  would  permit,  to  assimi- 
late itself  in  goodness  to  its  great  original,  or  suffer  it  when  thus  puri- 
fied and  advanced  to  a  congenial  nature,  to  undergo  any  real  calamity. 
The  virtuous,  therefore,  may  rely  in  confidence,  that,  whatever  the  ap- 
pearances of  things  may  be,  real  worth  will  never  prejudice  its  pos- 
sessor ;  for  that  it  is  a  general  law  of  nature,  that  the  destinies  of  men 
are,  in  some  respect  or  other,  accommodated  to  their  deficiencies  or  to 
their  qualifications.  The  virtuous  must  ultimately  attain  conditions 
where  their  virtues  will  have  suitable  scope  and  energy;  and  the 
vicious  may  congratulate  themselves  if  visited  with  speedy  punish- 
ment, that  they  are  provided  with  early  means  and  opportunities  of 
being  reclaimed  from  their  errors,  and  disciplined  to  better  habits  ;  but 
those,  on  the  other  hand,  are  deserving  of  commiseration  who  have  the 
misfortune  to  succeed  in  purposes  of  mischief,  and  who  become  rooted 
in  the  delusion  of  vice.2  For  it  is  an  eternal  and  immutable  law,  the 
operation  of  which  pervades  the  entire  universe,  and  from  which  no 
created  being  can  soar  so  high  as  to  escape  by  his  elevation,  or  shrink 
so  low  as  to  screen  himself  by  his  obscurity.  That  virtue  will  even- 
tually be  rewarded  and  vice  punished.3 

It  is  very  difficult  to  obtain  a  clear  view  of  Plato's  physical  system.  His  Physical 
He  seems  to  have  considered  all  the  qualities  of  the  visible  world  as  systern> 
compounded  of  two  different  and,  indeed,  opposite  ingredients  :  per- 
manent and  invariable  essences,  and  fleeting  accidents.     His  essences 
seem  to  have  been  endued  by  him  with  some  inherent  j)owers  of 
motion,  and  his  accidents  with  the  property  of  being  acted  upon.    All 

1  K«/   TO  /MV  uQtXiiv  oLya,$ov  a.u  vrityvx'bs  offov  <iyu.6cv  -^u^s   "Savory,  TO  $1  xccxoi 
fiXei'x'Tiiv.  TKVTCX,  VTKVTO!.  ^vv'iouv  \[/.n%icx.vyi<rot.To  wot;  •fctifjjSvov  'ixotffTov  TUV  ftipuv,  v'ixuo~a.v 

a0lT*IV,   WTTUfAtVTlV   01   XOt-XIdV   SV   Tto   WOZVTt   rttt.pJ.'^Ol    fACtXlffT'   O.V  Xtt,}  OoiffTOC,  XOt,}  aplffTOt.  - 

&»  <r\  "t,uv\  xou  'iv  waft   6a.vtx.Tois  vra,o")£tiv  T&  xa/  vfotttv  ci  wgoffyxov  ^av  iffTt  To7g  vrgoo-tpi- 
outrt   TOV$  <7T(3o<7(piQ*i$.  TKVTtjs  TV?  B/X>JJ  ouTi  ffu  {jt-WTOTi  ovTt  it  aXXflj  ctTU'fcr);  yivoftsvo; 

"'  O.%av  T\  oi  TK^XVTSS        iuv  rl 


2  Kara  %l  yt  TTIV  iftyv  ^o^xv  u  -ruXt  o  K^IXUV  T\   xoCi  o   a$izo$  ufoivruv   p.lv 
dtiXittiTioo;  f&\v  TOIVVV  ka,v  f/,ri  ^i!)u  %ixw,  [£*$£  Tvy^iivyi  Tif^upioc,?  oCbixcav.  r,TTov  £s 
lav  SiSiv  *oixnv,  xou  Tvy^Kvn  %ixt]$  uvro  6iuv  T\  xcti  nvfyuvrcov.  —  In  Gorgia. 

3  Oil  ya,^  u./u.iXw0riO"/i   Tori  UK  O.VTYI;  [TJJJ  "btxw;~\  ol-£  OVTU  fffiixoo;  civ  luffy  XKTK  TO 
i"ns   yns  fia/Jo;'   olio   v^'/iXos  yivoftivos  tl;   TOV   ovgozvov    KvctWTWff'/i'   Titrti;   %t   U.VTUV  TWV 
•xrgotrrixov/rKv  Tipu^'iav  I'IT   iv&ubt  ft'tvuv,  t'tTt.  xcci  \v  KOOU  'oia.'Xo^tufa};,  i'lTt  xxi  TOVTUV  it; 
KyoiuTtoov  'in   oiotxo[jt,i(r&ii;   Tortov.   o  UVTO;  ol  Xcyog  eoi  xot,}  <ffip\  ixziveuv  oiv  tl'/i  TUV,  oug 
ffu  XMTI^MV  kx  ffftixoav  ftiyaXov;   yiyovoTu.;  o.voo-iov£yriffoi,vTK,s,  %  Tt  TOIOVTOV  Wgd%av 
evritiri;  t%  cc&Xtiav    ivoetlftovKg    ytyovivon^    XKTet}  u;   Iv   xaTOWTgoi;   KUTUV    Toc7;    Wpcc^ 
v\yh<ru  xafactiaax'ivcti  TWV  KKVTUV  dp'tXiiKV  6tuv   ovx   libus   O.UTUV  TYIV  ffVVTtXtta.v} 
WOT\  TM  vuvTi  ^jSaAAsra;.  —  De  Legg,  lib.  x.  p.  905. 


80  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

qualities,  he  thought,  might  be  reduced  to  the  four  elements  of  fire, 
air,  water,  and  earth ;  the  two  first  he  considered  as  active,  the  two 
latter  as  passive  elements.  But  even  in  these,  again,  he  seemed  to 
find  certain  common  properties,  till  by  a  further  analysis  he  arrived  at 
some  original  and  primeval  thing,1  which,  itself  destitute  of  all  quali- 
ties, might  yet  serve  as  a  groundwork  or  common  vinculum  for  all 
qualities.  This  universal  recipient  and  primary  component,  which  is 
indefinable  except  by  negatives,  is  what  was  afterwards  by  Aristotle 
termed  v\r},  and  is  with  us  in  general  called  matter. 

Matter  This  matter  he  seems  to  have  considered  as  eternal  and  self- 

existent  ;  and  that  an  eternal  mind  reduced  those  ingredients,  which 
afterwards  constituted  qualities,  and  which  were  originally  inordinate, 
by  his  sovereign  will  into  system  and  harmony.  Creation,  therefore, 
was  in  his  view  the  organisation  by  mind  of  an  elementary  chaos  ;  and 
he  considered  the  power  of  the  Supreme  Being  over  matter  as  not 
entirely  absolute,  but  as  limited  in  some  degree  by  the  perverseness  or 
resisting  nature  of  the  subject  to  be  actuated.  And  whether  we  are 
to  attribute  the  supposition  to  some  irregularities  or  occasional  devia- 
tions, which  the  ancient  philosophers  imagined  in  the  motion  of  the  hea- 
venly bodies,  or  to  whatever  other  cause  we  are  to  impute  the  singular 
position,  so  it  is  that  Plato  held  the  inherent  and  permanent  stub- 
bornness of  matter  to  be  such,  that  at  stated  and  periodic  intervals  the 
Supreme  Being  intermitted  his  regular  and  progressive  agency,  and 
the  sphere  of  the  universe  revolved  in  a  retrograde  motion,  until  the 
excess  of  unruliness  was  exhausted,  and  the  system  had  reverted  to  a 
point  where  it  could  resume  its  orderly  obedience,  and  again  revolve 
in  subjection  to  its  mighty  Ruler.2 

Essences  and  In  uniting  essences  with  fleeting  accidents,  Plato  found  great  diffi- 
;nts>  culty  iu  reconciling  such  opposite  subjects,  and  therefore  devised  a 
medium,  which  he  described  as  being  neither  uniform  in  its  nature, 
like  the  one,  nor  incapable  of  permanence,  like  the  other,  but  in  some 
respect  compound  and  stable.  It  is  very  difficult  to  collect  what 
Plato  meant  by  these  intermediate  or  connecting  materials.  And  it 
may,  perhaps,  rather  obscure  than  elucidate  the  subject  to  remark, 
that  in  many  passages  of  Plato,3  and  in  some  of  Aristotle,4  connected 

1  Aio  TV>V  TOV  ytyovotos  ogarov  xoti  VUVTO;  aufftivTou  fttiTigx  TIVCC,  xoti  i/volo%yiv  (Jt-fiTl 
yrtv  fityTt   0,1^0.  ftriTt  rfvg  [AYITI   y,o&ig   Xtyofx.iv  ftWTi  otru  tx  TOVTUV  ftriTt  1%  uv  Taunt 
yiyovtv  aXX.'  dogarov  sTSa;  <r<  xat  ciftaoQov  •ffct.'j^i^tg. — In  Timaeo. 

2  To   5T«V   TOOt    TOT\    (6tV    CitlTOS   0   titOj     ^>Llf4<7!'0^tiys7   VTOOtVOfAtVOV    XOU    ffVyXUXA.it'    TOTt   d' 

aivtixtv,  o'rav  a,l  wtgiobot  TOU  •ff^offvxovros  O.UTU  ft'trgov  tiXytyaffiv  w$n  %govav  TO  $1,  vraXtv 
auTOftKT.'jv  th  TKVKvnot,  •JTiptK'yi'rc&i,  l^uov  ov}  xtti  typitvviffiv  tlXvi^os  Ix  TOV  ffuvapfAOffctvTOf 
CCVTO  XKT'  a^^aj.  TOIITO  ol  UVTCV  TO  o.vd.<xu.\w  iiiat  $10.  TOO  i%  a,va,yxvi;  *ift(pvTov  yiyovi. 
— *.  T.  X.  In  Politico,  p.  269.  3  In  Timseo. 

ET<  %y  <ffat.(>a.  TO,  KlffSviTa,  xcti  TO.  tfiq   TO,  [Aa^npoiTixcc,  TUV  <X'^a,yu,«.'ruv  tlvot./  q>etffi 
^v,  ^KnfyipovrK  TUV  /*£v  ctlySriTuv  TU  a.'i'^tx  xa,}  axivriTci  sHvar  TUV  ^'  ti^uv  <r£  TO.  ftiv 

.'   O.TTOI    OfAOttl    ttVMl,   TO  %    sTBflf     UUTO,    tV    IXKffTOV    fJbOVOV.     \fil  $   KITIO.    TO,     l'l%71    To7f 

m:,  TO.   ixitvuv  ffToi%t7ot   Woivrtav  u^fvi   TUV  OVTUV  tlvtzi  o"TO%lTK'  us  ftiv  ouv  uXnv  TO 
xoti  TO  ftixoav  tiv-xi  ag%us  &>s  o   ovaitzv  TO  tv.   1^  txtivuv  yu(>   TO,  XOLTOL  [AlSifyv  TOU 
s. — Aristotel.  Metaphys.  lib.  i.  c.  6. 


PLATO.  81 

with  this  point,  the  term  essences  seems  to  be  applied  to  numbers, 
and  these  intermediate  materials  to  quantities.  The  notion,  however,  Matter  in- 
of  some  inherent  power  in  matter  of  itself  tending  to  confusion  and  Sbora  and 
inordinate,  and  only  restrained  and  subjected  to  certain  rules  by  a  inordinate. 
Supreme  intelligence,  and  by  a  coercing  and  counteracting  Providence, 
was  a  fixed  part  of  Plato's  system,  and  is  glanced  at  in  his  moral 
writings,  as  well  as  insisted  upon  where  physical  subjects  are  more 
directly  the  subject  of  his  investigation.  But  wherever  complete 
order  prevailed,  and  regularity  was  observed  in  the  movement  of  any 
body  or  system,  it  was  inferred  by  Plato  that  that  order  must  have 
been  produced  by  the  infusion  of  some  part  of  the  divine  mind ;  and 
by  the  continuing  and  predominant  energy  of  such  infused  spirit,  over- 
ruling the  untoward  propensities  of  the  material  body  or  system 
which  it  informed.  Such  infused  spirits  he  supposed  to  regulate  the 
movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  he  inferred  them  to  be  akin  to 
the  soul  of  man,  when  the  soul  had  attained  its  highest  perfection, 
and  had  reduced  the  appetites  and  passions  of  the  body  under  its 
absolute  control.1 

No  trace  is  to  be  found  in  Plato  of  the  existence  of  malignant 
spirits.  His  doctrine  of  the  resistance  of  matter  may,  perhaps,  be 
looked  upon  as  an  ingenious  theory,  adopted  in  an  imperfect  state 
of  knowledge,  to  solve  the  great  problem  of  the  existence  of  evil.  In 
the  sense  which  we  have  explained,  Plato  taught  the  existence  of 
actuating  spirits  or  divinities ;  but  the  passages  in  which  he  seems  to 
adopt,  in  the  number  of  these,  the  deities  of  the  popular  mythology, 
are  generally  prefaced  by  words  of  reserve ;  and  may,  perhaps,  be 
justly  considered  as  instances  of  cautious,  if  not  honourable,  accommo- 
dation to  popular  superstition.  With  the  fate  of  Anaxagoras  and 
of  Socrates  but  too  strongly  impressed  on  his  memory,  Plato  may 
perhaps  be  excused  for  not  openly  defying  and  exposing  the  vulgar 
polytheism. 

The  more  gross  and  practically-mischievous  effects  of  the'  supersti-  Reprobates 
tion  that  prevailed  among  his  countrymen,  he  reprobates  on  every  supers 
occasion.     He  incessantly  ridicules  that  weakness  which,  instead  of 
the  offering  of  a  pure  heart,  would  attempt  to  propitiate  a  perfect 
being  by  gifts  and  sacrifices,  and  would  make  such  bargains  with  an 
all-just  God  as  would  be  an  insult  if  proposed  to  any  of  their  fellow- 

*  Tool  w  f£g)  fov  XV^IUTKTOU  ifao'  vifjuv  "^v%ii$  t'l^ous  'biix.voilffQKi  ^{t  rridt,  u;  0.00, 
aura  ^a,ifjt.ova,  ®iog  tx/iffrca  $&coxi,  TOVTO  o  ^>j  q>u,[x,iv  olxitv  pli  wpuv  \v  O.K^U  <ru 
ffuf^KTi,  <7fQC$  dl  TYIV  tv  ougotvw  Qwyyivitav  a.<7to  yris  ftf^oc,;  aiottv^  u$  b'vra$  fywrbv  oux 
lyyuov  aXA.'  ovooiviov,  OO&OTKTX  Xlyovr&s.  \xu6iv  ya.^  o6iv  rt  tfgurv  <rris  "^u^cis  y'tviffif 
'ifyu  TO  6iiov  <T7\v  xityatXriv  xott  p't^av  r,ftav  tLvotKpif^Kvviiv  oo0o7  waiv  <ro  ffufjt.ce, — et  postta— 
TU  Ss  <xi£i  tpiXoftddiav  xa,t  vtot  rag  rtjf  «A.»j^£/aj  Q^ovhfft^  ifffov^uxd-ri  xcti  Tu.vra, 
(AaXiffra,  ruv  KVTOU  yiyvfAVKo-fttvtv  ty^onlv  (t\v  a,6a.vcx,rtx.  xcti  Silo,,  oiv  vrz/>  aX«^5/«j  £<pa*- 
T-nra.t  Kara,  wdyxvivrov,  xot,$'  offov  §'  a,u  ^TKff^tHy  avfytuvrivn  (^vtrt;  a.6a,va,(rla,s  iv^t^trxiy 
TOVTOU  fjt,yjSiv  [tlpo;  a^raXs/ors/v,  ci<r£  o\  <Lti  titpxirivovra  TO  Qiiov  'i^ivTci  T5  UVTOV  iv  (A&Xa 
xixofff&iqf&svov  TOV  otzif&ova  ^uvotxov  Iv  KIITM  oiatpigovrta;  tii$a,i[jt,ovcx,  uvott. — In  Timaeo. 
p.  90.  These  passages  seem  strongly  illustrative  of  the  nature  of  Socrates'  dcemon, 
at  least  as  understood  by  Plato. 

|~G.  E.  P.]  <* 


82  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

creatures.1-  He  rebukes  the  poets  for  creating  or  giving  popularity  to 
the  idlest  and  most  impure  fictions  of  the  ancient  mythology.  If 
Plato  considered  the  gods  of  his  country  as  having  permanent  existence, 
as  embodied  powers  of  nature  and  tutelary  divinities,  or  as  having  had 
a  mortal  existence,  as  departed  heroes  and  benefactors  of  mankind,  he 
Did  he  be-  at  least  did  not,  at  the  same  time,  consider  that  beings  so  superior 
theismn?p0ly~  were  or  had  been  capable  of  the  grossest  crimes  and  of  the  greatest 
inconsistency  of  character.  But  we  confess  it  seems  to  us  most 
probable  that  Plato  entirely  disbelieved  the  whole  mass  of  the  current 
fictions ;  and  the  difference  of  style  observable  in  his  writings  upon 
this  subject,  so  distinguishable  from  his  solemn  and  earnest  manner 
when  discoursing  on  the  Supreme  divinity,  seems  strongly  to  confirm 
our  opinion  of  his  disbelief  in  the  polytheism  of  his  countrymen  even 
in  a  modified  sense.2 

His  opinions  The  art  of  communicating  knowledge,  or  the  science  of  language 
iUietonc.and  and  reasoning,  is  intimately  connected  with  philosophy,  or  the  art  of 
acquiring  knowledge.  As  knowledge,  according  to  Plato's  doctrine, 
consisted  in  rejecting  accidental  particulars,  and  in  contemplating 
those  essences  or  general  principles  which  always  existed  in  the  mind, 
but  which  only  required  the  suggestion  of  particular  occasions  to 
unfold  and  develop  them  at  large ;  so  he  considered  the  art  of  com- 
municating knowledge  to  consist  in  exciting  the  power  of  abstraction, 
and  in  awakening  in  the  understanding  those  inherent  but  dormant 
notions  which  only  require  proper  excitement  to  become  expanded  in 
their  due  proportions.  As  the  objects  of  knowledge  can  only  be 
clearly  distinguished  from  one  another,  by  separating  their  permanent 
natures  from  their  accidental  circumstances  and  combinations,  he  con- 
sidered definitions  as  the  grand  instrument  for  communicating  know- 
ledge ;  since,  by  means  of  them,  we  can  limit  the  subject  of  inquiry 
to  a  distinct  point;  and  by  words  defined  and  adhered  to  in  the  sense 
given  as  a  definition,  can  at  once  explain  what  we  consider  the  perma- 
nent and  inherent  properties  of  anything,  and  can  also  converse  of  them 
as  separated  from  their  accidental  adjuncts.8 

With  men,  indeed,  of  sound  understandings  and  candid  tempers, 
plain  and  direct  reasoning  is  the  most  proper  mode  of  proceeding, 
and  knowledge  is  best  communicated  by  simple  methods,  and  with  as 
little  of  the  circuits  and  perplexities  of  language  as  the  nature  of  the 
subject  will  admit.  But  with  different  tempers,  and  on  different 
occasions,  other  methods  of  communicating  knowledge,  and  leading 

1  De  Legg.  lib.  x.  and  lib.  xii. 

2  "  Sciendum  est  tamen  non  in  omnem  disputationem  philosophos  fabulosa  ad- 
mittere,  sed  his  uti  solent  cum  vel  de  animal,  vel  de  aeriis,  aetheriisve  potestatibus 
vel  de  cseteris  Dis  loquuntur :  caeterum  cum  ad  summum  et  principem  omnium 
Deum  tractatus  se  audet  attollere,  nihil  fabulosum  penitus  attingunt." — Macrobius 
in  Somn.  Scip.  lib.  i.  c.  2. 

8  BouZ.ii  ovv  ivtitv'Si  o.f&fuptQa.  tVKrxoffovvTtf  tx  rtjg  iw6vnx.s  [tiSobttv  ;  it'bos  ya.^  fov  TI 
iv  txectrrov  iluQupiv  rihtrfai  vrtoi  'ixourTOt  ru  woXXa  eif  TKUTOV  ovopa  iTitpigofttv. — De 
Republ.  x.  p.  596. 


PLATO,  83 

on  to  just  sentiments,  must  be  adopted.  Some  minds  must  be  first 
cleared  and  purified  from  idle  prepossessions,  from  vain  conceits,  from 
the  arrogant  imagination  that  they  are  already  in  possession  of  that 
very  knowledge  from  which  their  hearts  and  understandings  are,  in 
fact,  entirely  alien.  The  subtile  must  be  met  with  subtilty,  the 
fantastical  must  be  indulged  a  little  in  their  whimsies,  and  be  enticed, 
and  allured  to  more  substantial  entertainment.  The  art  of  conviction 
is  very  closely  connected  with  the  art  of  persuasion.  And  although 
without  a  true  and  sound  logic  no  man  can  acquire  knowledge  worth 
imparting,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  without  proper  rhetorical  skill,  the 
most  important  knowledge  of  a  practical  nature  must  remain  unim- 
parted  or  imparted  to  little  purpose. 

Such  seem  to  have  been  Plato's  general  notions  on  the  subjects  of 
logic  and  rhetoric.  But  it  has  so  happened  that  his  animadversions 
on  the  technical  refinements,  the  jingling  tricks  and  fopperies  of  con- 
temporary rhetoricians,  have  been  misconceived,  as  if  they  involved  a 
general  and  indiscriminate  censure  on  the  art  of  rhetoric.  The  object 
of  Plato  was  very  different,  as  will  appear  to  any  one  who  carefully 
studies  his  dialogues  connected  with  that  subject.  He  merely  endea- 
vours to  inculcate  that  the  faculty  of  using  words  without  a  real  • 
knowledge  of  the  subjects  discussed,  is  but  empty  babbling ;  and  that 
any  art  which  would  attempt  to  show  that  the  opposite  sides  of  every 
question  are  equally  capable  of  argument  and  proof,  must  be  grounded 
either  in  the  ignorance  or  in  the  imposture  of  its  professors. 

That  the  view  which  we  have  taken  of  Plato's  doctrine  on  this 
head  is  the  just  one,  will  be  seen  at  once  from  the  following  abstract 
or  condensed  arrangement  of  the  principal  arguments  used  in  the 
'  Phaedrus,'  for  which  we  are  principally  indebted  to  an  essay  by 
Mr.  Geddes,  on  the  composition  of  the  ancients,  which  contains, 
amongst  other  things,  some  very  valuable  illustrations  of  Plato. 

"  1  ask  you,"  says  Socrates, "  does  not  eloquence  allure  and  persuade  Abstract  of 
the  mind,  not  merely  in  courts  of  justice,  and  other  public  assemblies,  the  Phsedrus- 
but  in  private  parties  likewise,  where  men  discuss  topics  of  more  or 
less  importance?  Is  it  not  for  their  honour  to  deliberate  justly  in 
matters  of  small  as  well  as  of  great  moment?  By  Jove,  answered 
Pha?drus,  I  never  heard  that  oratory  was  displayed  anywhere  else  than  Oratory, 
at  public  trials,  or  in  speeches  addressed  to  the  people. — What  then, 
Phaedrus,  is  it  the  opposite  parties  do  in  courts  of  justice  ?  Do  they 
not  contradict  one  another  ?  They  do. — With  regard  to  what  is  just, 
and  to  what  is  unjust  ?  Yes. — He  who  does  this  by  art  can  make 
the  same  things  appear  just  to  the  same  persons  at  one  time,  and  at 
another  unjust  ?  He  can.  And  in  a  public  oration,  he  can  represent 
the  same  things  useful  to  the  public  this  day,  and  the  next,  injurious  ? 
This  art  then  of  debating  or  contradicting  being  in  fact  one  and  the 
same,  may  not  only  be  exercised  in  public  meetings,  and  the  business 
transacted  there,  but  likewise  in  every  other  affair  ?  Answer  me,  then, 
and  say,  whether  does  a  deception  happen  in  things  which  differ 

G2 


84  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

widely,  or  things  which  differ  but  little  ?  In  the  latter. — If,  in  going 
from  a  thing  to  its  opposite,  you  proceed  gradually,  will  not  the  tran-: 
sition  be  more  insensible  than  if  made  suddenly  ?  Certainly. — He, 
therefore,  who  would  impose  upon  another,  without  being  himself  de- 
ceived, must  have  an  accurate  knowledge  of  things  which  resemble, 
and  things  which  do  not  resemble  one  another  ?  He  mypst. — Is  it 
possible  for  a  person  who  is  ignorant  of  the  truth,  in  any  one  thing,  to 
judge  of  its  greater  or  less  similitude  with  other  things?  By  no 
means. — Consequently,  those  who  are  deceived,  and  who  form  opinions 
contrary  to  the  nature  of  things,  are  led  astray  by  false  appearances  or 
similitudes?  They  are. — Well,  then,  is  it  in  the  power  of  any  man 
who  does  not  himself  understand  the  nature  of  things,  artfully  and  in- 
sensibly to  draw  off  his  hearers  by  delusive  resemblances  from  truth 
to  falsehood  ?  Not  at  all. — Whoever,  therefore,  my  friend,  is  igno- 
rant of  truth,  and  guided  by  opinions,  must  appear  ridiculous,  and  un- 
acquainted with  his  art  when  he  attempts  to  persuade ;  he,  who  would 
excel  in  oratory,  ought  first,  to  form  just  notions,  and  to  understand 
the  true  character  of  every  species  of  things,  and  hence  be  enabled  to 
judge  when  the  people  are  likely  to  be  deceived,  and  when  not?  He 
would  be  a  happy  man,  Socrates,  who  possessed  that  knowledge. — 
Moreover,  when  he  has  to  describe  anything,  none  of  its  properties 
ought  to  escape  him,  but  he  ought  at  one  glance  to  discover  to  what 
species  his  subject  belongs  :  an  oration  ought  in  its  composition  to  re- 
semble an  animal,  which  has  its  own  body,  head,  and  feet,  and  its 
middle  extremities,  and  every  member  and  part  correspondent  to  each 
other,  and  to  the  whole.  It  ought  not  to  be  a  matter  of  indifference, 
whether  what  is  said' first  might  as  well  be  last,  or  the  contrary. 
These  observations,  Phsedrus,  are  not,  however,  so  important  as  the 
two  following  ones.  What  are  these  ?  First,  it  would  be  well  for 
us  if  we  could  collect  many  remote  qualities,  and  reduce  them  into  one 
kind ;  and  by  defining  everything,  give  a  distinct  idea  of  the  subject : 
in  this  manner  we  have  endeavoured  to  define  love,  and  ascertain  its 
meaning. — Well,  what  is  the  other  ?  It  is  this.  To  be  capable  of 
subdividing  each  species  into  its  natural  and  peculiar  division  without, 
like  an  unskilful  artizan,  breaking  any  of  its  parts.  I  am  in  love, 
Phaedrus,  with  such  divisions  and  compositions,  as  by  them  I  am 
enabled  to  reason,  and  to  speak  justly ;  if  I  find  a  person,  who  can 
discover  one  and  many,  as  they  are  in  nature,  I  follow  him  step  by 
step  as  a  kind  of  Deity :  God  knows  if  I  am  right  for  esteeming  those 
so  highly  who  argue  in  this  manner,  and  in  calling  them  as  I  do,  masters 
in  the  dialectic.  But  we  have  not  yet  discovered  what  rhetoric  is. — How 
do  you  mean,  Socrates  ?  We  must  pronounce  what  remains  to  be  said 
upon  oratory. — You  know,  Socrates,  there  are  many  famous  treatises 
written  upon  this  subject?  Well  suggested. — The  proem  is  the  first 
part  of  an  oration,  and  is  frequently  adorned  with  great  art  ?  It 
is. — The  second  part  contains  a  narration  twith  the  evidence  of  the 
facts ;  the  third  and  fourth  parts  consist  of  conjectures  and  presump- 


PLATO.  85 

tions,  arguments  and  confirmations.  I  might  also  take  notice  of  those, 
who  have  taught  how  a  plaintiff  and  defendant  are  to  manage  their 
accusations  and  defences,  replies  and  rejoinders ;  and  those  who  in- 
vented panegyric  and  invective.  We  dismiss  '  Lysias '  and  '  Gorgias,' 
who  prefer  an  appearance  of  truth  to  the  reality,  and  by  the  force  of 
their  eloquence  can  make  small  things  look  great,  old  things  new,  and 
the  contrary;  value  themselves,  sometimes  on  conciseness,  at  other 
times  on  prolixity ;  at  which  Prodicus  laughed  heartily  one  day,  and 
said,  this  art  neither  required  very  long  nor  very  short  sentences,  but 
moderate  ones.  He  was  right. — Polus  ought  also  to  be  praised,  for 
having  added  several  graces  to  oratory.  Protagoras  likewise  was  very 
elegant  in  his  discourses ;  Chalcedonius  excelled  in  moving  our  pity 
and  compassion,  in  raising  or  calming  our  anger,  and  in  raillery  and 
repartee ;  they  all  agreed  as  to  the  nature  of  the  conclusion  which 
some  call  a  recapitulation. — You  mean,  Socrates,  one  ought  to  sum 
up  the  whole  of  his  arguments  in  the  end  of  his  speech  ?  I  do. — 
Well,  continued  Phaedrus,  I  see  you  look  on  all  these  precepts  of  these 
rhetoricians  as  no  more  in  effect  than  the  first  rudiments ;  but  pray  in- 
form me  how  shall  one  become  perfect  in  the  true  art  of  persuasion  ? 
Perhaps,  Phasdras,  'tis  possible  to  become  a  master  in  this  as  well  as 
any  other  exercise:  nay,  you  cannot  fail  if  nature  has  bestowed  a 
genius,  and  you  take  care  to  cultivate  it  right. 

"  In  acquiring  this  art  I  am  not  for  following  the  method  of  Lysias 
and  Thrasymachus,  but  another. — What  other  ?  Pericles  my  friend 
seems  to  be  reckoned  the  most  perfect  orator. — Why?  The  more 
excellent  arts  demand  constant  meditation,  and  an  accurate  inquiry  into 
the  powers  of  nature ;  hence  we  acquire  true  grandeur  of  mind,  and  a 
capacity  of  performing  everything  in  the  best  way.  Pericles  had  a 
fine  natural  genius,  and  improved  it  to  the  utmost  by  these  studies ; 
he  was  a  constant  companion  of  Anaxagoras,  heard  his  lectures  on 
natural  philosophy,  on  the  temper  of  the  human  mind  and  its  disorders, 
became  well  acquainted  with  both,  and  drew  from  this  fountain  the 
noblest  helps  to  eloquence. — How  so?  The  art  of  medicine  and 
rhetoric  are,  in  this  respect,  the  same. — In  what  ?  You  must  atten- 
tively consider  the  nature  of  the  body  in  the  one,  of  the  mind  in  the 
other  :  this,  I  say,  you  must  do,  if  you  are  resolved,  not  empirically 
but  scientifically,  to  confer  health  and  strength  on  the  body  by  diet 
and  medicine  :  and  by  reason,  and  legitimate  discipline  to  instil  virtue 
into  the  mind,  and  gain  it  by  persuasion. — That  is  highly  probable, 
Socrates.  Do  you  think  you  can  understand  the  nature  of  the  human 
mind,  without  knowing  the  nature  of  the  whole  ?  If  we  believe  Hip- 
pocrates, the  successor  of  ^Esculapius,  we  cannot  know  the  nature  of 
the  body,  without  applying  to  that  study. — His  notion  is  just,  Phasdras  : 
let  us  hear,  then,  in  our  researches  into  nature,  what  Hippocrates  and 
right  reason  suggest.  Are  not  we  to  consider  the  nature  of  everything 
in  this  manner  ?  First,  whether  what  we  ourselves  desire  to  know, 
and  teach  others,  be  simple  or  various ;  if  simple,  we  must  learn  its 


86  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

active  and  passive  powers  of  operation  ;  if  compound,  we  must  enume- 
rate its  different  kinds,  and  accurately  distinguish  the  virtues  of  each, 
how  they  operate,  and  by  what  they  are  affected?  So  I  think. — 
Without  this  method,  our  progress  will  be  like  that  of  a  blind  man. 
Now  he,  who  performs  anything,  according  to  art,  cannot  be  compared 
to  the  blind  or  the  deaf:  is  it  not  therefore  evident,  whoever  speaks 
with  true  art  must  understand  well  the  nature  of  that  which  he 
addresses  ?  Now  this  is  the  mind.  Undoubtedly. — Does  not  the 
whole  labour  of  the  pleader  tend  to  this,  that  he  may  persuade  the 
hearer  ?  Yes. — It  follows  from  all  this,  that  Thrasymachus,  or  any 
other  teacher  of  rhetoric,  ought  with  the  utmost  assiduity  to  investigate 
and  declare,  whether  the  mind  is  by  nature  simple  and  uniform,  or 
compound,  as  the  body ;  this  is  what  we  mean  by  explaining  nature. 
I  understand  you. — Secondly,  he  is  to  show,  how  the  mind  acts,  and 
how  it  is  acted  upon.  Right. — Thirdly,  having  regularly  taught  the 
different  kinds  of  speech,  and  various  passions  of  minds,  and  examined 
the  motive,  which  influence  them,  he  is  to  adapt  the  one  to  the  other, 
and  teach  how,  and  for  what  reason,  a  mind  of  such  a  temper  is 
necessarily  persuaded  by  such  an  argument,  while  another  one  is  not  in 
the  least  moved  by  it.  A  noble  method,  indeed,  Socrates. — Believe  me, 
neither  the  art  of  rhetoric,  nor  any  science  whatever,  can  be  taught,  or 
explained  to  advantage  any  other  way  than  this ;  our  modern  rhetort- 
cians,  whom  we  daily  hear,  are  men  of  shrewd  parts,  they  keep  to 
themselves  their  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  and  will  not  commu- 
nicate it  to  the  world  :  but  till  they  teach  and  write  in  the  manner  we 
have  mentioned,  I  shall  never  be  convinced  they  are  skilful  in  their 
art. — What  manner  do  you  mean  ?  It  will  not  be  easy,  Phasdrus,  to 
explain  this  fully  ;  but  I  shall  briefly  intimate,  what  method  the  true 
teacher  of  this  science  is  to  follow. — Pray  let  me  hear  it.  Since  elo- 
quence is  nothing  else  than  pleasing  and  convincing  the  mind,  a  good 
orator  ought  surely  to  know  how  many  sorts  of  minds  there  are,  so 
many  of  one,  so  many  of  another  quality ;  whence  men  are  of  oppo- 
site tempers  and  characters :  these  distinctions  being  made,  'tis  next 
to  be  observed,  there  are  different  kinds  of  speech  too ;  each  of  which 
has  its  own  peculiar  quality.  Some  men  will  be  persuaded  by  one 
kind  of  speech  and  motives,  which  will  hardly  have  any  influence  on 
others.  One  of  a  ready  capacity,  who  has  been  taught  this  art,  will 
be  able,  on  proper  occasions,  to  bring  it  readily  into  practice,  and  see 
at  first  sight  when  and  how  to  apply  it ;  if  he  cannot,  he  will  be  little 
wiser  for  his  knowledge  of  the  theory  ;  but  if  he  knows  that  such  a 
person  jvill  be  prevailed  on  by  such  a  speech,  and  can  in  practice 
penetrate  into  the  mind,  and  discern  at  once,  that  now  occurs  the 
character  which  is  to  be  persuaded,  by  such  an  argument  to  such  an 
action  ;  he,  I  say,  who  is  master  of  this  art,  and  nice  discernment,  and 
can,  in  an  easy  and  elegant  manner  introduce  the  different  ornaments 
and  figures  of  diction,  the  pathetic,  sublime,  and  vehement,  is  the 
consummate  orator !  Whoever  is  defective  in  any  of  these  respects, 


PLATO.  87 

either  as  a  speaker,  writer,  or  teacher,  and  says  he  is  good  in  his  art, 
is  mistaken." 

In  criticising  the  philosophy  of  Plato,  it  is  but  just  to  advert  to  the  General  ex- 
uncertain  state  of  knowledge  at  the  time  when  he  wrote.  If  the  plain  Hatov!icw8 
and  sober  sense  of  Socrates  had  struck  out  some  sterling  truths  of  on  moral  sub- 
morality,  and  had  straggled  to  catch  at  some  general  principles,  and  to Jec 
lay  a  firm  groundwork  for  human  virtue,  it  is  the  merit  of  Plato  to 
have  followed  up  the  same  track,  and  to  have  directed  the  great  powers 
of  his  understanding  and  of  his  imagination,  and  the  prodigious  acquire- 
ments of  long  and  varied  research,  to  the  illustration  of  the  proper  end 
and  aim  of  man.  There  is  scarcely  a  dialogue  of  his,  however  differ- 
ent its  principal  or  professed  object  may  be,  in  which  something  is 
not  adduced  or  insinuated  in  relation  to  this  important  subject.  It  is 
this  circumstance  indeed  beyond  all  others,  which  gives  that  apparent 
uniformity  and  coherence  and  system  to  all  the  writings  of  Plato ; 
they  all,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  tend  to  elucidate  the  problem, 
what  is  the  true  happiness  of  man,  and  what  are  the  best  means  of 
attaining  it,  considering  the  constitution  of  human  nature,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  man  is  placed  ?  His  ultimate  views  on  this  sub- 
ject are,  perhaps,  the  most  just  that  unassisted  reason  can  arrive  at. 
His  arguments  and  his  conclusions  have  been  adopted  by  Lord  Shaftes- 
bury  in  his  '  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue  and  Merit,'  the  ablest  and 
most  unexceptionable  of  his  performances.  They  have  been  explained 
and  illustrated  with  more  precision  and  perspicuity  by  Bishop  Butler, 
in  his  three  admirable  sermons  '  On  Human  Nature ;'  and  that  learned 
writer  has  successfully  combated  the  most  ambiguous  and  noxious  of 
Hobbes's  positions,  by  girding  on  the  armoury  of  ancient  lore,  and 
proving  against  all  the  cavils  of  the  advocates  for  confusion,  that  man 
is  naturally  a  law  to  himself.  The  conclusions  indeed  of  Plato  and 
other  ancient  writers,  on  the  fundamental  questions  of  morality,  are  so 
clear  and  satisfactory,  that  whilst  we  feel  the  greatest  admiration  of 
the  reasoning  process  by  which  they  arrived  at  such  truths,  yet  we 
should  be  almost  inclined  to  say,  that  the  primary  distinctions  of  virtue 
and  vice,  when  once  expounded,  are  in  a  manner  self  evident  to  human 
reason,1  if  we  did  not  see  the  characters  of  Polus  and  Euthydemus 
revived  in  almost  every  age  among  mere  speculative  inquirers. 

Upon  Plato's  physical  system,  or  the  mysteries  of  his  numbers,  we  His  physical 
have  little  to  observe  in  addition  to  the  remarks  we  have  before  inci- 
dentally  made.     We  frankly  confess,  that  there  is  much  in  these  parts 
of  his  writings  that  we  do  not  understand  ;  and,  indeed,  that  his  grand 
periodical  revolutions  and  calculations8  which  he  has  introduced,  as 

1  "Nam  neque  tarn  est  acris  acies  in  naturis  hominum  et  ingeniis  ut  res  tantas 
quisquam  nisi  monstratas  possit  videre  :  neque  tanta  tamen  in  rebus  obscuritas  ut 
eas  non  penitus  acri  vir  ingenio  cernat  si  modo  aspexerit." — Cicero. 

2  Schneider,  however,  is  of  a  different  opinion,  and  we  have  studied  the  expla- 
nation which  he  attempts,  hut  without  becoming  converts.     See  Schneider's  Com- 
mentationes  dua?  de  Numero  Platonis.     Wratislavise,  1821,  quarto. 


88  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

connected  with  political  subjects,  seem  to  us  utterly  incapable  of  solu- 
tion. 

On  his  dialectics  we  have  but  one  remark  to  make ;  that  the  diffi- 
culty experienced  by  Plato,  whenever  he  has  occasion  to  advert  to  the 
mere  arrangement  of  arguments  and  the  process  of  reasoning,  confirms 
us  in  an  old  opinion,  which  indeed  we  never  doubted,  but  which  of 
late  years  some  attempts  have  been  made  to  shake,  that  Aristotle  was 
strictly  correct  in  announcing  himself  as  the  author  of  that  logical 
system  which  he  afterwards  communicated  to  his  countrymen.  The 
same  persons  who  are  sagacious  enough  to  discover  the  essences  of 
Plato  in  the  reveries  of  Eastern  sages,  may  be  somewhat  perplexed  to 
account  why  he  did  not  at  the  same  time  borrow  that  logical  system 
which  they  will  have  it  prevailed  among  the  same  sages,  and  why  it 
should  be  left  to  Aristotle  to  introduce  that  verbal  machinery,  of 
which  he  forsooth  falsely  claimed  the  invention. 

Little  known  Such  was  the  life,  and  such  seem  to  have  been  the  doctrines  of 
sonaihlS  per"  Plato :  and  we  feel  it  a  matter  of  sincere  concern,  that  so  little  has 
character,  been  handed  down,  that  can  be  depended  upon,  relating  to  the  per- 
sonal character  of  so  illustrious  a  man.  The  idlest  inferences  have 
been  drawn  from  misinterpretations  of  particular  passages  in  his 
works ;  and  tales  of  jealousy  and  rivalship  have  been  invented  by  the 
scandalmongers  of  antiquity,  and  retailed  by  the  moderns.  By  some 
writers  he  has  been  described  as  vain  and  ostentatious,  and  as  one 
who  was  bloated  up  to  pride  and  arrogance  by  the  attentions  he  re- 
ceived at  the  court  of  Syracuse.  By  some  he  has  been  represented 
as  the  tyrant's  parasite;  by  others,  as  a  political  intriguer  and  fac- 
tionary.  That  he  was  not  a  vain  man,  however,  sufficiently  appears 
from  the  course  of  his  writings ;  where,  with  an  amiable  devotedness, 
he  attributes  to  Socrates  not  only  the  simple  truths  of  that  excellent 
man's  plain  and  sound  morality,  but  all  the  rich  and  rare  illustrations 
which  his  own  genius,  and  the  amplitude  of  his  research  had  dis- 
covered, or  the  prodigality  of  his  fancy  bestowed.  And  this  respect 
for  his  master  was,  if  we  may  place  any  faith  in  Plutarch,  exemplified 
also  in  his  life,  in  an  assimilation  of  manners,  in  his  equanimity  of 
temper,  and  in  that  uniformity  of  character,  which  is  the  best  proof  of 
sincerity  and  integrity.  "  Plato,"  says  he,1  "  was  the  same  person  in 
the  Academy  and  at  Syracuse,  and  exhibited  the  same  character  to- 
wards Dionysius  and  towards  Dion." 

His  sue-  The  doctrines  of  Plato  were,  after  his  death,  expounded  in  the 

cessors.  Academy  by  his  nephew  Speusippus,  who  continued  his  duties  as  a 
public  professor  for  eight  years,  when  he  resigned  in  favour  of  Xeno- 
crates,  who  had  been  one  of  Plato's  most  esteemed  pupils.  The  inte- 
grity of  Xenocrates  is  well  known,  and  his  personal  chastity  has  been 
celebrated  by  the  retailers  of  anecdotes2  in  a  particular  tale  connected 

1  Oura   xai  HXeiruv  iv   2v^a,xovtrxis  oios  \v  KxaSvpiK  xeti  <ff(H>s   Atovvffiov  oios   rt^o; 
Aiuvx. — Plutarch,  in  opp.  vol.  viii.  p.  193.     Ed.  Reiske. 
a  Diogenes  Laertius,  Valerius  Maximus,  Bayle. 


PLATO.  89 

with  the  courtezan  Lais.  Neither  Speusippus  nor  Xenocrates  appear 
to  have  deviated  in  the  slightest  degree  from  the  general  system  of 
Plato.  But  Polemo,  who  succeeded  Xenocrates,  atoned  for  a  youth 
of  intemperance,  by  rushing  in  his  more  sedate  years  into  an  extreme 
bordering  on  asceticism.  The  austerities  of  his  own  practice,  the 
strictness  of  his  sense  of  duty,  and  the  ambiguous  language  which  he 
seems  to  have  employed  as  to  the  soul  of  the  universe,  almost  make 
one  imagine  that  he  anticipated  the  system  of  Zeno.  Polemo  was 
succeeded  by  his  intimate  friend  Crates,  who  had  long  been  connected 
with  him  by  congeniality  of  disposition,  but  who  died  after  a  short 
sway  in  the  Academy.  It  is  not  improbable,  indeed,  that  the  positive 
and  dogmatic  manner  of  Polemo  and  Crates  produced  that  revulsion 
which  ensued  upon  the  death  of  the  latter,  and  occasioned  their  suc- 
cessors to  indulge  in  greater  latitude  of  speculation,  and  in  more 
of  that  temperate  and  modest  suspense  of  judgment,  which  is  con- 
tent to  consider  the  conclusions  of  practical  reason  as  merely  ap- 
proximations to  certainty ;  but  is  at  the  same  time  willing  to  act  upon 
probabilities,  since  man  must  act  somehow  or  other,  and  it  is  most 
reasonable  to  act  according  to  such  semblances  of  truth  as  the  mind 
can  arrive  at. 

Such  was  the  course  of  the  old  Academy.  The  history  of  the  new 
Academy,  (for  we  agree  with  Middleton  in  rejecting  the  distinction  of 
a  middle  Academy),  beginning  with  Arcesilas,  will  be  connected  with 
the  history  of  its  great  ornament,  Cicero.  Some  account  of  the  later 
Platonists  will  be  presented  to  our  readers  in  the  life  of  Plotinus,  who 
wasted  a  genius  of  the  highest  order  in  idle  reveries,  and  whose 
writings,  clouded  as  they  are  with  mysticism  and  the  spirit  of  ascetical 
illusion,  occasionally  glow  with  the  fervour  of  the  richest  imagination, 
and  with  an  exuberance  of  philosophic  imagery.  Indeed,  without  a 
powerful  genius,  he  could  never  have  affected  that  wonderful  change 
in  the  Platonic  school  which  he  did  effect,  though  to  us  it  appears  a  Modern 
lamentable  corruption.  From  this  time,  Plato  has  seldom  been  studied 
except  with  the  aid  of  the  commentaries,  or  in  conjunction  with  the 
treatises  of  this  later  school ;  and  at  the  revival  of  learning,  the  learned 
Florentine,  Ficino,  who  procured  the  printing  of  Plato,  performed  the 
same  service  for  the  illustrious  leaders  of  the  later  school,  and  illus- 
trated his  edition  of  Plato  with  many  commentaries,  in  which  he 
showed  himself  at  least  an  equal  adept  in  the  mysteries  of  Plotinus 
and  Porphyry,  as  in  the  sense  of  Plato.  Cardinal  Bessario  was  a 
Platonist  of  more  discrimination,  and  one  whose  intercourse  with  the 
world  had  perhaps  given  him  more  tact  and  address  in  selecting  the 
practical  works  of  Plato,  and  in  illustrating  those  of  a  more  obscure 
cast,  than  the  learned  but  recluse  Florentine.  Bessario's  work,  in  reply 
to  George  of  Trebizond,  "  the  calumniator  of  Plato,"  is  a  very  masterly 
performance,  but  its  celebrity  has  not  continued  equal  to  its  merit. 
Bessario  has  there  fully  developed  many  of  those  arguments  which 
have  been  used  of  late  years  by  the  admirers  of  Plato,  particularly 


90  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

among  the  German  controvertists.  Serranus  has  conferred  great  obli- 
gations by  his  excellent  edition  of  Plato ;  and  as  the  paging  of  that 
edition  has  been  universally  adopted  by  scholars  for  reference,  it  has 
been  very  judiciously  continued  in  the  margin  of  the  Bipont  edition, 
and  of  the  edition  published  by  Mr.  Bekker.  The  abstract  of  Plato's 
'  Dialogues,'  by  Mr.  Tiedemann,  annexed  to  the  Bipont  edition,  is 
executed  with  considerable  ability ;  but  the  author  is  somewhat  too 
fond  of  deviating  into  mystical  disquisitions,  and  has  rendered  the 
work  less  intelligible  and  less  generally  useful  than  it  otherwise  would 
have  been,  by  a  constant  reference  to  the  philosophy  which  then 
prevailed  in  Germany. 

In  Germany,  indeed,  Plato  has  uniformly  been  the  favourite  of  the 
ablest  philosophers ;  and  whether  the  mystic  Reuchlin,  or  Leibnitz,1 
or  Kant,  brought  their  own  theories  to  light,  they  all  equally  acknow- 
ledged Plato  to  be  the  great  object  of  their  admiration  among  ancient 
English  writers.  In  Britain,  the  professed  translators  of  Plato  have  been 
omato°ns  Sydenham,  Spens,  and  Taylor.  Of  Sydenham's  translation,  every 
scholar  will  speak  with  respect,  and  every  man  of  taste  with  regard 
and  fondness.  Its  imperfect  and  unfinished  condition  bears  with  it  a 
deep  interest  as  a  memorial  of  Sydenham's  melancholy  fate ;  when  a 
man  of  the  highest  talents,  and  the  most  elegant  accomplishments,  after 
struggling  with  the  inequalities  of  fortune,  and  suffering  mortifications 
not  the  less  galling  because  concealed  and  uncommunicated,  gave  way 
to  the  sudden  impulse  of  his  indignant  spirit,  and  quitted  a  world 
which  he  disdained  to  flatter.  Spens'  work  bears  marks  of  being  a 
version  from  the  French,  and  not  from  the  original.  It  is  impossible 
to  speak  otherwise  than  with  respect  of  Mr.  Taylor,  as  a  self-taught 
scholar,  and  a  student  of  unwearied  industry ;  but  his  translation  of 
Plato  is  in  every  higher  quality  a  lamentable  contrast  to  the  work  of 
his  predecessor  Sydenham.  It  is  written  without  spirit,  without  taste, 
without,  as  it  should  seem,  even  a  suspicion  of  the  lighter  shades  of 
language,  and  it  is  disfigured  throughout  with  the  unintelligible  jargon 
of  the  Alexandrian  school. 

His  admirers  Among  the  British  admirers  of  Plato,  besides  the  cabalists  Gale 
in  Britain.  an(j  More,  and  the  indefatigable  and  eloquent  pupil  of  the  Alexandrian 
school,  Cud  worth,  we  may  mention  several  of  our  ablest  philosophers 
and  poets.  Bacon  never  speaks  of  the  political  or  moral  works  of  Plato 
without  marked  respect.  Berkeley's  enthusiastic  admiration  is  well 
known,  and  his  dialogues  are,  perhaps,  the  only  productions  in  the  lan- 

1  The  testimony  of  Leibnitz  is  very  explicit.  In  one  letter  to  Bierling,  after 
making  some  remarks  on  Cicero's  'Dialogues/  he  continues  thus: — "Platonis 
dialogi  paulo  minus  accommodati  sunt  ad  ingenium  nostri  sseculi.  Mihi  tamen  vix 
quicquam  in  illis  spernitur ;  adeo  multa  agnosco  consideratione  profundiore  digna." 
And  in  another  letter,  in  reply  to  some  vague  remarks  made  by  the  same  cor- 
respondent, he  observes,  "  De  Platone  non  sentio  tarn  con  tern  tim.  Meditationes 
ejus  mihi  et  profundas  passim  et  utiles  videntur.  Et  habeo  Giceronem  non  malum 
judicem  mecum  sentientem.  Non  ita  pridem  didicimus  plus  Platonem  in  recessu 
habere  quam  vulgo  apparet." — Leibnitii  Epistol.  in  opp.  vol.  v.  p.  368. 


PLATO.  91 

guage  which  can  give  to  a  mere  English  reader  a  sense  of  the  art,  the 
dignity,  and  the  gracefulness  of  his  Athenian  model.  Lord  Shaftes- 
bury's  essays  on  the  contrary,  though  written  more  with  the  air  of  a 
professed  imitation,  have  about  them  an  inflation  and  a  stilted  grandeur, 
which  never  deforms  the  serious  works  of  Plato.  The  minds,  both  of 
Milton  and  Gray,  were  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Plato's 
writings.  The  whole  of  the  *  Comus,'  and  particularly  the  beautiful 
eulogy  upon  Philosophy,  the  solemn  introduction  of  the  unsphering 
Plato's  spirit  in  the  *  Penseroso,'  and  the  express  praise  of  the  remnants 
of  the  Socratic  school  in  the  '  Tractate  on  Education,' and  '  The  Answer 
to  Smectymnus,'  show  at  once  how  fully  Milton's  mind  had  been  stored 
with  the  sublimer  parts  of  Plato's  philosophy,  and  how  great  his  ad- 
miration was  of  the  plainer  and  more  practical  parts.  His  larger  poems 
breathe  everywhere,  as  it  were,  inadvertently,  intimations  of  the  deep 
fountains  of  ancient  wisdom,  in  which  his  genius  had  delighted  to  re- 
fresh and  invigorate  itself;  and  every  casual  turn  displays  glances  of 
the  sky  robes  of  the  Athenian  sage,  and  drops  rich  distillations  of  the 
choicest  dew  from  Hymettus.  The  poems  of  Gray,  in  like  manner, 
bear  a  strong  tincture  from  their  author's  studies ;  and  the  intelligent, 
to  whom  they  are  addressed,1  would  need  no  further  evidence  than  the 
colour  of  the  language,  and  imagery  with  which  they  abound,  to  satisfy 
them  that  Plato  was  Gray's  favourite  author.  This  point,  however, 
has  been  put  out  of  all  question  by  the  publication  of  his  posthumous 
works  before  referred  to ;  which  show,  not  only  his  earnest  study  of 
Plato's  own  writings,  but  his  minute  and  laborious  research  into  other 
writers  of  antiquity,  to  procure  illustration  even  of  the  most  petty  par- 
ticulars of  dates  or  characters  anywise  connected  with  them. 

But  we  perceive  that  we  are  dwelling  too  long  upon  details,  which 
at  best  can  be  considered  but  as  an  appendage  to  a  sketch  of  Plato's 
life.  The  neglect,  however,  with  which  Plato's  writings  are  in  the 
present  day  indiscriminately  treated,  even  among  persons  of  general 
learning  and  intelligence,  must  be  our  excuse  for  resting  on  the  names 
of  any  who  have  entertained  a  different  opinion  of  his  writings,  although 
they  were  not  themselves  deficient  in  genius,  or  accustomed  to  any 
servile  admiration  of  antiquity.  But  upon  this  head,  of  the  disregard 
shown  to  Plato  in  our  public  schools  and  universities,  upon  which  it 
might  seem  impertinent  or  presumptuous  for  us  to  enlarge  further,  we 
willingly  shelter  ourselves  under  the  authority  of  Berkeley,  and  close 
our  sketch  with  recommending  the  perusal  of  Plato's  writings,  in  the 
words  of  that  learned  and  virtuous  dignitary : — 

"  It  might  very  well  be  thought  serious  trifling  to  tell  my  readers, 
that  the  greatest  men  had  ever  an  high  esteem  for  Plato ;  whose  writings 
are  the  touchstone  of  a  hasty  and  shallow  mind ;  whose  philosophy 
has  been  the  admiration  of  ages ;  which  supplied  patriots,  magistrates, 
and  lawgivers  to  the  most  flourishing  states,  as  well  as  fathers  to  the 
church,  and  doctors  to  the  schools.  Albeit,  in  these  days,  the  depths 


92  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

of  that  old  learning  are  rarely  fathomed,  and  yet  it  were  happy  for 
these  lands,  if  our  young  nobility  and  gentry,  instead  of  modem  maxims, 
would  imbibe  the  notions  of  the  great  men  of  antiquity.  But  in  these 
freethinking  times,  many  an  empty  head  is  shook  at  Aristotle  and 
Plato,  as  well  as  at  the  Holy  Scriptures.  And  the  writings  of  those 
celebrated  ancients  are  by  most  men  treated  on  a  foot  with  the  dry 
and  barbarous  lucubrations  of  the  schoolmen.  It  may  be  modestly 
presumed  there  are  not  many  among  us,  even  of  those  who  are  called 
the  better  sort,  who  have  more  sense,  virtue,  and  love  of  their  country 
than  Cicero,  who,  in  a  letter  to  Atticus,  could  not  forbear  exclaiming, 
*  O  Socrates  et  Socratici  viri !  Nunquam  vobis  gratiam  referam.' 
Would  to  God  many  of  our  countrymen  had  the  same  obligations  to 
those  Socratic  writers." — '  Siris,'  in  Berkeley's  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  613. 


ARISTOTLE. 


THE  KEY.  J.  W.  BLAKESLEY,  M.A., 

VICAR  OF  WARE, 
LATE  FELLOW  AND  TUTOR  OF  TRINITT  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE. 


REPRINTED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  EDITION. 


ARISTOTLE. 

FROM  B.  C.  384  TO  B.  C.  323. 

IN  the  account  which  we  are  about  to  give  of  the  founder  of  the 
Peripatetic  school,  we  shall  confine  ourselves  strictly  to  the  pro- 
vince of  the  biographer.1  We  shall  enter  more  into  detail  respecting 
the  documents  which  exist  for  our  purpose  than  has  been  done  in  the 
lives  of  Plato  and  Socrates,  and  in  the  sketch  of  the  earlier  philosophers 
of  Greece,  because  an  acquaintance  with  this  subject  is  absolutely 
necessary  for  estimating  the  value  of  any  information  relative  to  the 
lives  of  these  remarkable  men,  and  the  existing  sources  of  all  our 
possible  knowledge  in  any  one  case,  are  very  nearly  the  same  as  those 
for  every  other. 

If  the  acquaintance  we  possessed  with  the  private  life  of  individuals 
were  at  all  proportioned  to  the  influence  exerted  by  them  on  the 
destinies  of  mankind,  the  biography  of  Aristotle  would  fill  a  library ; 
for  without  attempting  here  to  discuss  the  merits  of  his  philosophy  as 
compared  with  that  of  others,  it  may  safely  be  asserted  that  no  man 
ever  yet  lived  who  exerted  so  much  influence  upon  the  world. 
Absorbing  into  his  capacious  mind  the  whole  existing  philosophy  of 
his  age,  he  reproduced  it,  digested  and  transmuted,  in  a  form  of  which 
the  main  outlines  are  recognised  at  the  present  day,  and  of  which  the 
language  has  penetrated  into  the  inmost  recesses  of  our  daily  life. 
Translated  in  the  fifth  century  of  the  Christian  era  into  the  Syriac 
language  by  the  Nestorians  who  fled  to  Persia,  and  from  Syriac  into 
Arabic  four  hundred  years  later,  his  writings  furnished  the  Moham- 
medan conquerors  of  the  East  with  a  germ  of  science  which,  but  for 
the  effect  of  their  religious  and  political  institutions,  might  have  shot 
up  into  as  tall  a  tree  as  it  did  produce  in  the  West ;  while  his  logical 
works  in  the  Latin  translation  which  Boethius,  "  the  last  of  the 
Eomans,"  bequeathed  as  a  legacy  to  posterity,  formed  the  basis  of 
that  extraordinary  phenomenon,  the  philosophy  of  the  schoolmen. 
An  empire  like  this,  extending  over  nearly  twenty  centuries  of  time, 
sometimes  more,  sometimes  less,  despotically,  but  always  with  great 
force,  recognised  in  Bagdat  and  in  Cordova,  in  Egypt  and  in  Britain, 
and  leaving  abundant  traces  of  itself  in  the  language  and  modes  of 
thought  of  every  European  nation,  is  assuredly  without  a  parallel. 
Yet  of  its  founder's  personal  history  all  that  we  can  learn  is  to  be 
gathered  from  meagre  compilations,  scattered  anecdotes,  and  accidental 

1  For  an  analysis  of  Aristotle's  philosophical  doctrines,  see  th*  volume  of  this 
Encyclopedia  on  '  Moral  and  Metaphysical  Philosophy.' 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


sophers. 


Indirect 
information 
in  ancient 
writers  on 
the  subject. 


notices,  which  contain  much  that  is  obviously  false  and  even  contra- 
dictory, and  from  which  a  systematic  account,  in  which  tolerable 
Early  his-  confidence  maybe  placed,  can  only  be  deduced  by  a  careful  and  critical 
Aristotle  and  investigation.  It  is  not,  however,  to  the  indifference  of  his  contempo- 
other  phiio-  raries,  or  'to  that  of  their  immediate  successors,  that  the  paucity  of 
details  relating  to  Aristotle's  life  is  due.  Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  the 
second  of  the  Macedonian  dynasty  in  Egypt,  not  only  bestowed  a 
great  deal  of  study  upon  the  writings  of  the  great  philosopher,  but 
also  is  said  to  have  written  a  biography  of  him.1  About  the  same 
time  Hermippus  of  Smyrna,  one  of  the  Alexandrine  school  of  learned 
men,  whose  research  and  accuracy  are  highly  praised  by  Josephus,9 
composed  a  work  extending  to  considerable  length,  '  On  the  Lives  of 
Distinguished  Philosophers  and  Orators.'  in  which  Aristotle  appears 
to  have  occupied  a  considerable  space.8  Another  author,  whose  date 
there  is  no  direct  means  of  ascertaining,  but  who  probably  is  to  be 
placed  somewhere  about  the  end  of  the  third  century  before  the 
Christian  era,4  Timotheus  of  Athens,  is  also  to  be  added  to  the  number 
of  his  early  biographers.  But  independently  of  such  works  as  these, 
antiquity  abounded  in  others  which  contained  information  on  this 
subject  in  a  less  direct  form.  Aristoxenus  of  Tarentum,  who,  during 
a  part  of  his  life,  was  himself  a  pupil  of  Aristotle,  in  his  biographies 
of  Socrates  and  Plato  had  frequent  occasion  to  speak  of  the  great 
Stagirite.  Epicurus,  in  a  treatise  which  is  cited  under  the  title  of 
'  A  Letter  on  the  Pursuits  and  Habits  of  former  Philosophers,'  related 
several  stories  to  his  disparagement.5  The  same,  perhaps,  was  the 
case  with  Aristippus  (apparently  the  grandson  of  the  founder  of  the 
Cyrenean  school)  in  his  work  '  On  the  Luxury  of  Antiquity.'6  And 
yet  more  valuable  materials  than  were  furnished  by  the  two  last- 
mentioned  works,  of  which  at  least  the  former  appears  to  have  been 
composed  in  the  vulgar  spirit  that  delights  in  finding  something  to 
degrade  to  its  own  level  all  that  is  above  it,7  probably  were  contained 
in  the  treatises  of  Demetrius  the  Magnesian,  and  Apollodorus  the 
Athenian.  The  first  of  these  was  a  contemporary  of  Cicero  and  his 

1  David  the  Armenian,  in  a  commentary  on  the  Categories,  cited  by  Brandis,  in 
the  Rheinisches  Museum,  vol.  i.  p.  250,  and  since  published  from  two  Vatican 
MSS.,  says,  Tuv  'Agiffro<rifax,ay   ffvyy^etftftKruv  <xo\Xuv  ovruv  %<X/wv  TOY  agtfaov,  us 
(bnfft  HToXifteitos  o  ^iXotitXtyos ,  a.vtx.y^a,^v  KUTUV  vroinffaftivos   x,a,t  <rov  fiiov  KVTOV  xa,t 
TJJV  Sicifaffw.  x.  r.  A.,  (p.  22,  ed.  Bekker) — an  important  passage,  showing  who  the 
Ptolemy  was  that  is  elsewhere  cited  in  connexion  with  Aristotle's  works. 

2  Contr.  Apion.  lib.  i.  dv^  -XTI/H  <ra<rav  <Wo£/av  Isn^sX^f. 

3  Athenaeus  (xiii.  p.  589,  XT.  p.  696)  cites  him,  li»  TU  f^uru  *&£  'Agie-roriXovs. 

4  This  seems  to  follow  from  the  fact  that  Diogenes  only  quotes  him  in  the  lives 
of  Plato,  Speusippus,  Aristotle,  and  Zeno  of  Cittium.     He  is,  therefore,  no  autho- 
rity for  anything  later  than  the  time  of  the  last.     Zeno  was  an  old  man  B.C.  260 
(Diog.  Laert.  vii.  6).     Timotheus's  work  is  quoted  under  the  title  Ilsg)  BW 

5  Ap.  Athen.  Deipnosoph.  p.  354. 
c  Diog.  Laert.  ii.  23,  v.  3. 

7  See  the  stories  which  he  related  in  it  of  Protagoras,  also  mentioned  by 
Athenaeus,  loc.  cit. 


AKISTOTLE.  97 

celebrated  friend  Atticus,1  and  appears  to  have  exercised  his  acumen 
in  detecting  such  erroneous  stories  prevalent  in  his  time  as  arose  from 
the  confusion  of  different  poets  and  philosophers  who  had  borne  the 
same  name  ;2  a  cause  which  with  us  would  hardly  be  adequate  to 
produce  any  great  effect,  but  formerly,  in  the  absence  of  hereditary 
surnames,  and  under  the  operation  of  many  motives  for  falsification, 
was  much  more  fertile  in  its  results  than  can  now  be  easily  imagined.3 
The  second  is  an  authority,  who,  for  the  purposes  of  the  modern 
biographer  of  Aristotle,  is  the  most  important  of  all.  He,  like  Her- 
mippus,  was  an  Alexandrine  scholar,  and  pupil  of  the  celebrated  editor 
and  commentator  of  the  Homeric  poems,  Aristarchus.4  Among  his 
voluminous  works  was  one  '  On  the  Sects  of  Philosophers,'  which  no 
doubt  contained  much  that  was  interesting  on  our  subject ;  but  what 
renders  him  valuable  above  any  other  of  these  lost  writers,  and  makes 
us  treasure  up  with  avidity  the  slightest  notices  by  him  which  have 
come  down  to  us,  is  his  celebrated  '  Chronology,'  a  composition  in 
iambic  verse,  often  cited  under  the  title  of  Xpovt/ca,  or  Xpovi<c»)  <7vjra£ie, 
by  that  compiler  whose  treatise  is  unfortunately  the  most  ancient 
systematic  account  of  Aristotle's  life  which  has  escaped  the  ravages  of 
time.  These  citations  are  invaluable,  not  merely  for  the  positive 
information  which  we  gain  from  them,  but  because  they  serve  also,  as 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  observe  in  the  sequel,  for  a  touchstone  of 
anecdotes  whose  authority  is  otherwise  uncertain.5 

The  foregoing  list  of  authors,  which  might  be  yet  further  enlarged  Gradual 
did  we  not  fear  to  exceed  the  due  limits  of  this  occasion,  abundantly  offhe6racy 
shows  that  in  the  beginning  of  the  first  century  before  Christ  there  literature  on 
were  materials  for  compiling  a  biography  of  Aristotle  as  detailed  as  jecTs! SU 
one  of  Newton  or  Young  could  be  in  the  present  day.     This,  how- 
ever, soon  afterwards  ceased  to  be  the  case.     When  the  only  means 
of  obtaining  the  copy  of  a  book  was  by  the  laborious  process  of 
transcription,  the  expense  necessarily  confined  its  acquisition  to  com- 
paratively few  persons,  and  when  to  this  drawback  we 'add  those 
arising  from  voluminous  size  and  but  partially  interesting  subject,  the 
circulation  would  be  very  limited  indeed.     It  may  be  questioned, 
perhaps,  whether  some  of  the  works  we  have  noticed  ever  found  their 
way  beyond  the  walls  of  the  royal  library  at  Alexandria,  except  in 
the  shape  of  extracts.     If  this  were  the  case,  the  destruction  of  the 
whole  or  a  great  part  of  that  library6  in  the  siege  of  the  city  by  Julius 

1  Cicero,  Brut.  91.  He  is  alluded  to  in  Epp.  ad  Attic,  iv.  11 ;  but  in  viii.  11, 
ix.  9,  xii.  6,  it  is  Demetrius  the  Syrian,  a  rhetorician,  who  is  referred  to.  This 
latter  is  also  spoken  of  in  Brut.  91.  2  Diog.  Laert.  v.  3. 

3  See  Galen,  Comment,  in  Hippocr.  de  Nat.  Horn.  ii.  pp.  105,  109,  and  in 
Hippocr.  de  Humor,  i.  p.  5,  ed.  Kuehn.  4  Suidas,  sub  v.  'AvroXXodugos. 

5  See,  with  reference  to  Apollodorus  and  his  works,  Voss,  De  Historicis  Graecis, 
p.  132,  et  seq. ;  Heyne,  ad  Apollodori  Bibliothec.  vol.  i.  pp.  385,  457;  and  Brandis 
in  the  Rheinisches  Museum,  vol.  iii.  p.  110;  in  whose  opinion  the  chronology  of 
Apollodorus  is  founded  on  that  of  Eratosthenes. 

6  Aulus  Gellius,  Noctes  Atticse,  vi.  17. 

[G.  K.  P.]  H 


$8  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

Caesar  (B.C.  48),  would  very  probably  cause  their  annihilation.  At 
all  events,  in  the  subsequent  times,  when  Rome  was  the  centre  of 
civilization  as  well  as  of  empire,  works  of  such  a  description  became 
Literature  totally  unfit  to  satisfy  the  wants  of  the  age.  A  certain  acquaintance 
w^h  Greek  literature,  Greek  philosophy,  and  Greek  history,  became 
an  essential  accomplishment  for  the  fashionable  Roman;  but  this 
acquaintance  was  nothing  like  the  one  which  Cato  and  Scipio,  which 
Atticus  and  Cicero  possessed.  It  was  expected  to  be  extremely  com- 
prehensive,1 and,  as  all  comprehensive  knowledge  must  be  when 
popularized,  it  was  proportionally  superficial.  To  feed  this  appetite 
for  general  information  was  the  work  of  the  needy  men  of  letters 
under  the  empire.  In  the  time  of  the  early  Ptolemies  and  of  the 
kings  of  Pergamus  their  energies  had  been  directed  by  the  munificence 
of  those  monarchs  to  the  accumulation  of  vast  stores  of  erudition  on 
particular  subjects.  The  number  of  monographies,  and  the  minute 
subdivision  of  intellectual  labour  which  prevailed  under  their  patronage, 
is  scarcely  equalled  by  the  somewhat  similar  case  of  Germany  at  the 
present  day.  Homer,  a  sacred  book  for  the  Greeks,  was  the  principal 
subject  of  their  labours ;  but  indeed  there  was  no  classical  author  and 
no  literary  or  scientific  question  which  did  not  employ  the  abilities  of 
a  crowd  of  antiquarians  or  commentators.  The  prodigious  stores  thus 
accumulated2  formed  the  stock  from  which  the  litterateurs  of  Rome 

1  See  Juvenal,  Satir.  vii.  229—236,  of  the  masters  of  his  time: — 

Vos  saevas  imponite  leges, 
Ut  praeceptori  verborum  regula  constet, 
Ut  legat  historias,  auctores  noverit  omnes 
Tanquam  ungues  digitosque  suos;  ut  forte  rogatus 
Dum  petit  aut  thermas  aut  Phcebi  balnea,  dicat 
Nutricem  Anchisaa,  nomen  patriamque  novercaa 
Anchemori ;  dicat,  quot  Acestes  vixerit  annos, 
Quot  Siculus  Phrygibus  vini  donaverit  urnas. 

Make  it  a  point  that  all,  and  every  part 

Of  their  own  science  be  possessed  by  heart; 

That  general  history  with  our  own  they  blend, 

And  have  all  authors  at  their  fingers'  end: 

That  they  may  straight  inform  you,  should  you  meet, 

And  ask  them  at  the  bath,  or  in  the  street, 

Who  nurs'd  Anchises  ?  from  what  country  came 

Archim'rus'  stepmother,  and  what  her  name? 

How  long  Acestes  flourished  ?  and,  in  short, 

With  how  much  wine  ^Eneas  left  his  court? 

Gifford's  Version,  p.  264. 

2  The  number  of  volumes  at  Alexandria,  in  the  time  of  Callimachus  (about  259 
B.C.)  amounted  to  532,000,  or,  according  to  the  explanation  of  Ritschl  (Die  Alex- 
andrinischen  Bibliotheken,  p.  28),  432,000.     At  the  time  of  the  destruction  of  the 
great  part  by  fire  they  had  reached  700,000.    The  difference  was  caused,  in  a  great 
measure,  by  the  accumulation  of  commentatorial  or  antiquarian  works.      Thus 
Aristarchus  is  said  to  have  written  more  than  800  volumes  of  commentaries  alone. 
(Suidas,  sub  v.)     Some  are  said  to  have  spent  their  whole  lives  on  the  elucidation 
of  single  questions  relative  to  Homer.     (See  Wolf,  Prolegomena  in  Homerum, 
sec.  45,  51.)     Under  Ptolemy  Philadelphus  an  immense  number  of  original  works 


ARISTOTLE.  99 

derived  materials  for  the  new  species  of  intellectual  repast  demanded 
by  the  taste  of  their  times.  In  the  first  generation  of  compilations  Compiia- 
which  were  composed  for  this  purpose,  the  writers  of  course  made  tlc 
use  of  the  existing  sources  of  information,  and  fortified  their  statements 
by  citations  of  their  authority  in  each  particular  instance.  But  as  the 
real  love  for  literature  declined  before  the  debilitating  influence  of 
luxury,  while  at  the  same  time  the  fashion  of  literary  accomplishments 
remained,  it  became  necessary  that  information  should  be  furnished  in 
a  more  generally  palatable  form.  Hence,  out  of  the  first  crop  of  com- 
pilations, a  new  generation  of  writers  composed  a  sort  of  Omniana,  Miscellanies. 
(TravTo^aTrai  loropicu,)  a  species  of  composition  which  became  exceed- 
ingly popular  as  it  combined  a  loose  kind  of  information  on  those 
points  of  which  everybody  was  expected  to  possess  some  knowledge, 
with  the  piquancy  of  memoirs,  and  the  variety  of  subject  which  is  so 
pleasant  to  a  frivolous  and  indolent  reader.  It  very  soon  overlaid  and 
destroyed  the  learned  labours  of  the  preceding  age ;  and  from  the  time 
at  which  it  began  to  prevail,  it  becomes  very  questionable  whether  a 
writer,  when  he  quotes  an  authority  of  a  date  earlier  than  the  empire, 
ever  has  cast  eyes  upon  him,  or  even  wishes  his  readers  to  believe 
that  he  has  done  so.  One  of  the  earliest  as  well  as  most  original 
works  of  this  description  was  the  production  of  a  female  hand. 
Pamphila,  a  lady  of  Egyptian  extraction,  in  the  time  of  Nero,  had  Pampluia. 
married  at  a  very  early  age  a  person  of  considerable  literary  tastes  and 
attainments,  whose  house  was  the  resort  of  many  persons  distinguished 
for  the  same,  either  for  the  purposes  of  education  or  of  social  inter- 
course. During  thirteen  years  she  states  that  she  was  never  separated 
from  her  husband's  side  for  an  hour,  and  that  it  was  her  habit  to  take 
notes  of  anything  which  she  might  learn  either  from  him  or  from  any 
of  his  literary  circle,  which  appeared  worth  recording.  Out  of  these 
materials,  together  with  extracts  made  by  herself  from  authors  which 
she  had  read,  she  composed  eight  books  of  miscellaneous  historical 
memoirs  (arvpp,tKra  iffropiKa  vTro^uvj^uara),  purposely  abstaining  from 
anything  like  an  arrangement  according  to  subjects,  that  her  readers 
might  enjoy  the  pleasure  arising  from  the  variety.  This  work  Photius, 
from  whom  we  have  taken  this  notice  of  it,  describes  as  being  "  a 
most  useful  one  for  the  acquirement  of  general  information."1 

Phavorinus,  a  native  of  Aries,  who  flourished  in  the  reign  of  the  Phavorinus. 

were  collected,  and  the  arrangement,  description,  and  illustration  of  these  became 
the  principal  business  of  men  of  letters  under  his  successors.  Under  Ptolemy  the 
accumulation  was  so  rapid  that  there  was  no  time  for  this.  Galen  relates  that 
when  any  merchant-vessels  put  into  the  harbours  of  Egypt,  all  manuscripts  which 
happened  to  be  on  board  were  taken  to  the  royal  library,  and  transcripts  of  them 
sent  back  to  the  owners.  In  default  of  time  to  examine  what  the  originals  were, 
they  were  laid  up  in  the  collection  under  the  title  of  ra.  ix  vrXoiuv,  "  the  books  taken 
out  of  the  ships."  (Galen,  cited  by  Wolf,  Proleg.  sec.  42.)  It  is  hardly  necessary 
to  remark  that  the  word  "  volume,"  in  reference  to  this  time,  applies  to  the  pa- 
pyrus rolls,  of  which  none  perhaps  contained  more  than  a  couple  of  closely  printed 
octavo  sheets,  while  some  were  very  much  less. 
1  Photius,  Biblioth.  p.  119,  ed.  Bekker. 

H2 


100  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

emperor  Hadrian,  was  the  compiler  of  another  work  of  the  same  de- 
scription, but  not  composed  under  such  interesting  circumstances. 
His  'Miscellaneous  Historical  Questions '  (wajroSaTrj)  vAr/  toropuo),  or 
TrajTodaTT?)  tWopia)  were,  as  well  as  the  works  of  Pamphila,  a  mine 
much  worked  by  subsequent  writers.  But  the  degenerate  taste  which 
had  caused  the  production  of  such  works  as  these,  or  at  least  as  the 
latter,  did  not  stop  here.  Still  declining,  it  called  for  yet  more  meagre 
and  worthless  compilations,  which  were  furnished  by  drawing  from 
the  confused  and  turbid  '  Miscellanies  '  those  parts  which  referred  to 
any  particular  subject  on  which  the  writer  thought  proper  to  make 
Later  com-  collections.  To  this  stage  belongs  the  work  of  Diogenes  Laertius,  a 
piiations.  part  Qf  Wj1jc}1  forms  the  nucleus  of  all  modern  biographies  of  Aristotle, 
as  well  as  of  Plato  and  most  of  the  early  Greek  philosophers ;  and  to 
a  yet  later  period,  after  the  processes  which  we  have  been  describing 
had  been  again  and  again  repeated,  the  lives  by  the  pseudo-Ammonius 
and  his  anonymous  Latin  translator  and  interpolator. 

Criterion  of  If  we  were  to  estimate  the  relative  importance  of  these  later 
vaiJfof'the  authorities  by  the  quantity  of  critical  discernment  or  sound  erudition 
later  writers,  which  they  display,  there  would  be  little  to  choose  between  the  con- 
temporary of  Severus  and  his  followers  of  some  centuries  later.  But 
Diogenes,  although  devoid  of  all  historical  or  philosophical  discrimi- 
nation, although  sometimes  contradicting  himself  within  the  limits  of 
a  single  biography,  and  confusing  the  tenets  of  Peripatetics  and  Epicu- 
reans without  the  least  consciousness  of  his  own  indistinct  views,1  is 
distinguished  by  the  circumstance  that  in  his  narrative  the  names  of 
the  earliest  authorities  still  appear,  while  from  the  rest  they  have  in 
most  cases  dropped  out.  With  the  use,  therefore,  of  due  caution  and 
diligence,  we  are  frequently  enabled  to  arrive  at  the  views  entertained 
on  a  given  point  by  individuals  of  four  centuries  earlier  date,  who 
possessed  both  the  wish  and  the  means  to  ascertain  truth  where  the 
later  writers  were  deficient  in  both.  This  is  particularly  the  case  with 
certain  classes  of  facts.  Anecdotes  illustrative  of  individual  character 
or  habits  of  life  readily  spring  up  and  have  a  rapid  growth,  if  the 
smallest  nucleus  of  truth  exist  as  a  foundation  for  them.  But  dry 
and  uninteresting  statements,  such  as  the  date  of  an  insulated  event, 
will  very  rarely  be  falsified  except  by  accidents  attending  transcription, 
or  unless  their  determination  is  distinctly  felt  to  affect  the  decision  of 
some  more  obviously  important  question.  When,  therefore,  such 
statements,  coupled  with  the  name  of  an  early  authority,  have  been 
preserved,  there  is  a  fair  presumption  that  we  have  firm  standing 
ground ;  and  other  notices  of  uncertain  origin  will  possess  a  greater  or 
less  claim  to  our  consideration  as  they  appear  more  or  less  adapted  to 
make  parts  of  that  body  of  which,  as  it  were,  a  few  fossil  bones  have 
been  preserved.  These  we  shall  first  present  collectively  to  the  view 
of  our  readers,  and  then  proceed  step  by  step  in  the  process  of 
redintegration. 

1  See  Casaubon's  Note  on  Diog.  Laert.  v.  29. 


ARISTOTLE.  101 

On  the  authority,  then,  of  Apollodorus,1  we  may  fix  the  birth  of  Summary  of 
Aristotle  in  the  first  year  of  the  ninety-ninth  Olympiad  (B.C.  384-3),  i^onthe 
and  his  arrival  at  Athens  as  a  scholar  of  Plato  when  seventeen  years  authority  of 
old.      After  remaining  there  twenty  years  he  visited  the  court  of  AP°llodorus- 
Hermias  (a  prince  of  Asia  Minor,  of  whom  we  shall  say  more  in  the 
sequel),  in  the  year  after  his  master's  death,  Theophilus  being  then 
archon  (i.e.,  B.C.  348-7),  and  stayed  there  for  three  years.     In  the 
archonship  of  Eubulus,  the  fourth  year  of  the  hundred  and  eighth 
Olympiad  (B.C.  345-4),   he  passed  over  to  Mytilene.     In  that  of 
Pythodotus,  the  second  year  of  the  hundred  and  ninth  (B.C.  343-2), 
he  commenced  the  education  of  Alexander  the  Great  at  his  father's 
court ;  and  in  the  second  year  of  the  hundred  and  eleventh,  returned 
to  Athens  and  taught  philosophy  in  the  school  of  the  Lyceum  for  the 
space  of  thirteen  years ;  at  the  expiration  of  which  time  he  crossed 
over  to  Chalcis  in  Eubcea,  and  there  died  from  a  disease  in  the  archon- 
ship   of  Philocles,    the   third    year  of  the  hundred  and  fourteenth 
Olympiad  (B.C.  322-1),  at  the  age  of  about  sixty-three,  and  at  the 
same  time  that  Demosthenes  ended  his  life  in  Calauria. 

Stagirus  (or,  as  it  was  later  called,  Stagira),  the  birthplace  of  one  Birthplace  of 
of  the  most  extraordinary  men,  if  not  the  very  most,  that  the  world  Anstotle- 
has  ever  produced,  was  a  petty  town  in  the  north  of  Greece,  situated  its  situation. 
on  the  western  side  of  the  Strymonic  gulf,  just  where  the  general  line 
of  coast  takes  a  southerly  direction.  It  lay  in  the  midst  of  a  pic- 
turesque country,  both  in  soil  and  appearance  resembling  the  southern 
part  of  the  Bay  of  Naples.  Immediately  south  a  promontory,  like 
the  Punta  della  Campanella,  and  nearly  in  the  same  latitude,  ran  out 
in  an  easterly  direction,  effectually  screening  the  town  and  its  little 
harbour  Capros,  formed  by  the  island  of  the  same  name,  from  the 
violence  of  the  squalls  coming  up  the  ^Egean,  a  similar  service  to  that 
rendered  by  the  Italian  headland  to  the  town  of  Sorrento.  In  the 
terraced  windings,  too,  by  which  the  visitor  climbs  through  the  orange 
groves  of  the  latter  place,  he  may,  without  any  great  violence,  imagine 
the  "narrow  and  steep  paths"  by  which  an  ancient  historian  and 
chorographer  describes  those  who  crossed  the  mountains  out  of  Mace- 
donia as  descending  "  into  the  valley  of  Arethusa,  where  was  seen  the 
tomb  of  Euripides  and  the  town  of  Stagira."2  The  inhabitants  pos-  civilization, 
sessed  all  the  advantages  of  civilization  which  Grecian  blood  and 
Grecian  intercourse  could  give ;  the  city  having  been  originally  built 
by  a  colony  of  Andrians,  and  its  population  subsequently  replenished 
by  one  from  Chalcis  in  Eubcea.3  The  mouth  of  the  Strymon  and  the 

1  Ap.  Diog.  Laert,  Vit.  Arist.  sec.  9.  Compare  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus, 
Epist.  i.  ad  Arnmaeum,  pp.  727,  728,  whose  account  agrees  with  that  of  Diogenes, 
and  is  itself  probably  based  on  the  chronology  of  Apollodorus.  See  Clinton's  Fasti 
Hellenic!,  2,  320  B.  c.  col.  3. 

8  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  xxvii.  4.  The  similarity  in  the  name  of  the  island 
Capri,  which  lies  off  Sorrento,  is  curious,  and  seems  to  favour  the  account  of  Frou- 
tinus,  that  Surrentum  was  originally  colonized  by  Greeks. 

3  Thucyd.  iv.  88 ;  Dionys.  Halic.  Ep.  i.  ad  Anim.  p.  727. 


102  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

important  city  of  Amphipolis  was  within  three  hours'  sail  to  the 
north ;  and  every  part  of  the  Chalcidic  peninsula,  a  district  full  of 
Greek  towns,1  among  which  were  Olynthus  and  Potidaea,  was  readily 
accessible.  With  the  former  of  these  Stagirus  appears  to  have  been 
leagued  as  a  humble  ally 2  in  that  resistance  to  the  ambitious  designs 
of  Philip  which  terminated  so  calamitously.  In  the  year  348  B.  c.  it 
was  destroyed  by  him,3  and  the  inhabitants  sold  as  slaves. 

Aristotle's  Aristotle,  however,  did  not  share  the  misfortunes  of  his  native 
:hiidhood.  town?  to  wnicn  it  [s  probable  he  had  been  for  many  years  a  stranger. 
His  father,  Nicomachus,  one  of  the  family  or  guild  of  the  Asclepiads, 
in  which  the  practice  of  medicine  was  hereditary,  had  taken  up  his 
residence  at  the  court  of  Philip's  father,  Amyntas,  to  whom  he  was 
body  surgeon,  and  whose  confidence  he  appears  to  have  possessed  in  a 
high  degree.4  He  did  not  confine  himself  to  the  empirical  practice  of 
his  art,  for  he  is  related  to  have  written  six  books  on  medical  and  one 
on  physical  'subjects,5  which  latter  head  would  in  that  age  include 
every  department  of  natural  history  and  physiology,  no  less  than  those 
investigations  of  the  properties  of  inorganic  matter  to  which  the  term 
is  appropriated  in  the  present  day.  Now  this  circumstance  is  much 
more  important  in  its  bearing  upon  the  intellectual  character  of 
Early  "educa-  Aristotle  than  may  at  first  appear.  In  his  writings  appears  such  a 
fondness  for  these  pursuits  as  it  seems  impossible  not  to  believe  must 
have  been  imbibed  in  his  very  earliest  years,  and  most  probably  under 
the  immediate  superintendence  of  this  parent.  For  although  he  was 
an  orphan  at  the  age  of  seventeen  (and  how  much  earlier  we  cannot 
say),  yet  it  is  well  knqwn  that  education  in  the  "  art  and  maistery  of 
healing,"  and  such  subjects  as  were  connected  therewith,  was  com- 
menced by  the  Asclepiads  at  a  very  early  age.  "  I  do  not  blame  the 
ancients,"  says  Galen,6  "  for  not  writing  books  on  anatomical  manipu- 
lation ;  though  I  commend  Marinus,  who  did :  for  it  was  superfluous 
for  them  to  compose  such  records  for  themselves  or  others,  while  they 
were  from  their  childhood  exercised  by  their  parents  in  dissecting  just 
as  familiarly  as  in  writing  and  reading ;  so  that  there  was  no  more 
fear  of  their  forgetting  their  anatomy  than  of  their  forgetting  their 
alphabet.  But  when  grown  men  as  well  as  children  were  taught,  this 
thorough  discipline  fell  off;  and  the  art  being  carried  out  of  the  family 
of  the  Asclepiads,  and  declining  by  repeated  transmission,  books  be- 

1  Demosthenes  (Philipp.  iii.  p.  117)  says  that  Philip  destroyed  thirty-two  there. 
Some  of  these  were  doubtless  mere  hamlets. 

2  Dio  Chrysost.  Or.  ii.  p.  38. 

3  a.vdffrurov.     Plutarch,  Vit.  Alex.  sec.  7.     If  Aristotle's  will,  however,  pre- 
served by  Diogenes  Laertius,  be  genuine,  this  term  must  be  considerably  qualified; 
for  in  it  he  speaks  of  his  -ra-r^a  eixia  in  Stagirus.     One  naturally  expects  the 
description  of  Demosthenes  (loc.  cit.)  to  be  overcharged. 

4  icvrgou  x.ou  <f>ikou  %£*'&,  is  the  expression  of  Diogenes. 

5  Suidas,  sub  v.  Ntxo^a^aj. 

6  Cited  and  translated  by  Whewell,  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  vol.  iii. 
p.  385.     See  also  Plutarch,  Vit.  Alex.  sec.  8. 


ARISTOTLE.  103 

came  necessary  for  the  student."  And  we  have  another,  although 
slighter,  presumptive  evidence  that  the  childhood  of  the  great  philo- 
sopher was  spent  with  his  father  at  the  Macedonian  court,  in  the 
circumstance  of  his  being  selected  by  Philip,  at  a  period  long  sub- 
sequent, to  conduct  the  education  of  Alexander.  This  we  shall  find 
an  opportunity  of  reverting  to  in  the  sequel.  Whatever  influence, 
however,  was  exercised  by  Nicomachus  over  the  future  fortunes  of  his 
son,  he  had  not  the  happiness  of  living  to  be  a  witness  of  its  effects. 
He,  as  well  as  his  wife  Pha?stis,  a  descendant  of  one  of  the  Chalcidian 
colonists  of  Stagirus,  died  while  Aristotle  was  yet  a  minor,  leaving  Becomes  an 
him  under  the  guardianship  of  Proxenus,  a  citizen  of  Atarneus  in  Asia, 
who  appears  to  have  been  settled  in  the  native  town  of  his  ward. 
How  long  this  person  continued  in  the  discharge  of  his  trust  we  have 
no  means  of  determining ;  it  was  sufficiently  long,  however,  to  imbue 
the  object  of  it  with  a  respect  and  gratitude  which  endured  throughout 
life.  At  the  age  of  seventeen,  however,  it  terminated ;  and  Aristotle, 
master  of  himself  and  probably  of  a  considerable  fortune,  came  to  Comes  to 
Athens,  the  centre  of  the  civilization  of  the  world,  and  the  focus  of  l  en!>' 
everything  that  was  brilliant  in  action  or  in  thought.  It  is  not  pro- 
bable that  anything  but  the  thirst  for  knowledge  which  distinguished 
his  residence  there  was  the  cause  of  its  commencement.  Plato  was 
at  that  time  in  the  height  of  his  reputation,  and  the  desire  to  see  and 
enjoy  the  intercourse  of  such  a  man  would  have  been  an  adequate 
motive  to  minds  of  much  less  capacity  and  taste  for  philosophy  than 
Aristotle's  to  resort  to  a  spot,  where,  besides,  every  enjoyment  which 
even  an  Epicurean  could  desire  was  to  be  found.1  It  was  reserved  for  Absurd 
the  foolish  ingenuity  of  later  times,  when  all  real  knowledge  of  this  the°reason. 
period  had  faded  away,  to  invent  the  absurd  motive  of  "  a  Delphic 
oracle,  which  commanded  him  to  devote  himself  to  philosophy."2  For 
another  account,  scarcely  less  absurd,  the  excuse  of  ignorance  cannot 
be  so  easily  made.  Epicurus,  in  the  work  we  have  before  spoken  of,  Calumny  of 
related  that  Aristotle,  after  squandering  his  paternal  property,  adopted 
the  profession  of  a  mercenary  soldier,  and,  failing  in  this,  afterwards 
that  of  a  vender  of  medicines  ;  that  he  then  took  advantage  of  the  free 
manner  in  which  Plato's  instructions  were  given  to  pick  up  a  know- 
ledge of  philosophy,  for  which  he  was  not  without  talent,  and  thus 
gradually  arrived  at  his  views.3  It  is  at  once  manifest  that  this  story  Refuted, 
is  incompatible  with  the  account  of  Apollodorus,  according  to  which 
Aristotle  attached  himself  to  the  study  of  philosophy  under  Plato 
before  he  had  completed  his  eighteenth  year.  Independently  of  the 
difficulty  of  conceiving  that  a  mere  boy  should  have  already  passed 
through  so  many  vicissitudes  of  fortune,  it  is  obvious  that  he  could 

1  See  Xenophon,  Rep.  Ath.  cap.  ii.  sec.  7,  8. 

2  Pseudo-Ammonius,  Vit.  Arist. 

8  Athenaeus,  Deipnosoph.  viii.  p.  354  ;  Julian,  Var.  Hist.  v.  9.  That  these  two 
accounts  are  derived  from  the  same  source  appears  no  less  from  their  similarity  of 
phrase  than  from  the  remark  of  Athenaeus,  "  that  Epicurus  was  the  only  authority 
for  this  story  against  Aristotle." 


104 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Aristotle's 


other  dis- 
accounts. 


not  before  that  time  have  squandered  his  property,  except  through 
the  culpable  negligence  of  his  guardian,  Proxenus  ;  and  any  supposition 
of  this  sort  is  precluded  by  the  singular  respect  testified  for  that  indi- 
vidual in  his  ward's  will,  the  substance  of  which  —  or  perhaps  a  codicil 
to  it  —  has  been  preserved  to  us  by  Diogenes  Laertius.1  In  it  he 
.  directs  the  erection  of  a  statue  of  Proxenus  and  of  his  wife,  he  ap- 
points their  son  Nicanor  (whom  he  had  previously  adopted)  to  be 
joint  guardian,  with  Antipater,  of  his  own  son  Nicomachus,  and  also 
bestows  his  daughter  upon  him  in  marriage.  It  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive that  such  feelings  could  have  been  aroused  in  the  ward  by  a 
negligent  or  indiscreetly-indulgent  guardian;  and  we  should  hardly 
have  reverted  to  the  story  in  question,  except  to  remark  how  the  very 
form  of  the  calumny  seems  to  indicate  that  the  favourite  studies  of 
Aristotle,  in  the  early  part  of  his  life,  were  such  as  his  father's  pro- 
fession would  naturally  have  led  him  to,  Physiology  and  Natural 
History.8  Indeed,  nothing  is  more  probable  than  that  he  might  have 
given  advice  to  the  sick;  science  and  practical  skill  being  in  those 
times  so  inseparably  connected,  that  the  Greek  language  possesses  no 
terms  which  formally  distinguish  them  —  and  from  this  circumstance 
the  report  may  have  arisen,  that  he  attempted  medicine  as  a  pro- 
fession. 

There  are  some  other  accounts  equally  discrepant  with  the  chro- 
no^°g7  °f  Apollodorus,  which  we  have  taken  as  our  standard.  One 
of  these  is,  that  Aristotle  did  not  attach  himself  to  Plato  until  he  was 
thirty  years  of  age  :  another,  that  on  his  first  arrival  at  Athens  he 
was  for  three  years  the  pupil  of  Socrates.3  The  first  of  these,  which 
rests  on  the  sole  authority  of  one  Eumelus,4  a  writer  of  whom  nothing 
more  whatever  is  known,  may  perhaps  be  a  feature  of  the  story  of 
Epicurus  which  we  have  just  discussed:  it  has  been  conjectured, 
however,  with  great  appearance  of  probability,  that  its  sole  foundation 
is  the  well-known  maxim  of  Plato,  that  the  study  of  the  higher  phi- 
losophy should  not  be  commenced  before  the  thirtieth  year.  The 
second,  as  it  stands,  is  absolutely  unintelligible,  Socrates  having  been 

1  Vit.  Arist.  sec.  11—16.     The  genuineness  of  this  document  is  confirmed  by 
the  notice  which  Athenseus  (xiii.  p.  589)  gives  from  Hermippus,  relative  to  the 
provision  for  Herpyllis,  which  quite  agrees  with  what  we  find  in  it.    Compare,  too, 
the  author  of  the  Latin  Life  (ad  fin.),  from  whom  it  appears  that  Ptolemy  and  An- 
dronicus  had  each  of  them  inserted  a  testament  of  Aristotle  in  their  works. 

2  Athenseus  tells  the  story,  after  mentioning  several  tenets  of  Aristotle  on  matters 
of  natural  history,  in  reference  to  which  he   calls  him  *'  the  medicine-vendor" 
(o  q>a,£pa.»i><fft>a*.ws).     There  is  a  curious  passage,  too,  in  a  work  of  Aristotle's  (the 
Politics,  p.  1258,  line  12,  ed.  Bekker),  which  seems  to  have  some  bearing  upon 
this  matter.     It  may  almost  be  taken  as  an  explanation  of  his  conduct,  if  it  was 
such  as  we  have  supposed.     Timseus  of  Tauromenium  related,  that  at  a  late  period 
of  his  life  (tyl  TVS  «>./*/«;)  he  served  an  obscure  physician  in  a  menial  capacity. 
(Aristocles,  ap  Euseb.  xv.  2.)     For  the  character  of  Timseus,  see  Oasaubon  ad 
Diog.  Laert.  x.  8. 

3  Pseudo-Ammonius.  —  Vita  Latina. 

4  Ap.  Diog.  Laert.  Vit.  Arist.  sec.  6.    All  other  accounts  are  unanimous  in  repre- 
senting him  as  becoming  Plato's  disciple  while  very  young. 


ARISTOTLE.  105 

put  to  death  in  the  archonship  of  Laches  (B.C.  400-399),  that  is, 
fifteen  years  before  the  birth  of  Aristotle.  But  it  has  been  ingeni- 
ously remarked,1  that  at  the  time  when  Aristotle  first  came  to  Athens, 
Plato  was  absent  in  Sicily,  from  whence  he  did  not  return  till  Olymp. 
ciii.  4,  the  third  year  afterwards  ;2  so  that  if  Aristotle  was  then  intro- 
duced to  the  philosophy  of  the  Academy,  it  must  have  been  under 
the  auspices  of  some  other  of  the  Socratic  school,  whom  the  foolish 
compilers  of  later  times  mistook  for  its  founder.  Under  this  natural 
explanation,  the  absurd  story  becomes  a  confirmation  of  the  account 
of  Apollodorus,  which  we  have  followed — a  coincidence  the  more 
satisfactory  as  it  is  quite  undesigned. 

We  shall  now  proceed,  as*  well  as  the  scanty  information  which  has  Aristotle  at 
come  down  to  us  will  allow,  to  sketch  the  course  of  Aristotle's  life 
during  the  ensuing  period  of  nearly  twenty  years  which  he  spent  at 
Athens.  It  appears  to  have  been  mainly,  although  not  entirely, 
occupied  in  the  acquisition  of  his  almost  encyclopaedic  knowledge,  in 
collecting,  criticising,  and  digesting.  Of  his  extraordinary  diligence  His  industry. 
in  mastering  the  doctrines  of  the  earlier  schools  of  philosophy  we  may 
form  some  notion  from  the  notices  of  them  which  are  preserved  in  his 
works,  which  indeed  constitute  the  principal  source  of  our  whole 
knowledge  upon  this  subject.  That  this  information  should  have 
been  acquired  by  him  during  this  part  of  his  life  is  rendered  likely 
both  by  the  nature  of  the  case  and  by  the  scattered  anecdotes  which 
relate  that  his  remarkable  industry  and  intelligence  elicited  the 
strongest  expressions  of  admiration  from  Plato,  who  is  said  by  Pseudo- 
Ammonius  to  have  called  Aristotle's  house  "  the  house  of  the  reader" 
The  Latin  translator  adds,  that  in  his  absence  his  master  would  ex- 
claim, "  that  the  intelligence  of  the  school  was  away,  and  his 
audience  but  a  deaf  one  !"3  A  treatise  on  Rhetoric,  not  that  which  works  of 
has  come  down  to  us,  but  one  which,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to  this  time> 
show  in  the  sequel,  was  probably  written  during  this  period  of  his 
life,  is  described  by  Cicero4  as  containing  an  account  of  the  theories  of 
all  his  predecessors  upon  this  subject,  from  the  time  of  Tisias,  the 
first  who  wrote  upon  it, — so  admirably  and  perspicuously  set  forth, 
that  all  persons  in  his  time  who  wished  to  gain  a  knowledge  of  them, 
preferred  Aristotle's  description  to  their  own.  We  may  take  occasion 

1  Stahr,  Aristotelia,  i.  p.  43. 

2  Corsini  (De  die  n.  Platonis)  cited  by  Ast.  Platons  Leben  und  Schriften,  p.  30. 
Heraclides  of  Pontus  presided  in  the  school  of  Plato  during  his  absence.     But 
Xenocrates,  who  is  known  to  have  been  an  intimate  associate  of  Aristotle  in  after 
life,  may  possibly  have  been  the  means  of  drawing  his  attention  to  intellectual  phi- 
losophy; the  social  intercourse  in  which  this  might  be  effected  would  to  later  ages 
appear  in  the  light  of  formal  instruction,  and,  when  this  was  the  case,  the  name 
Xenocrates  would  readily,  by  the  carelessness  or  meddling  criticism  of  a  transcriber, 
be  altered  into  Socrates. 

3  "  Intellectus  ab  est;  surdum  est  auditorium."    This  story  is  probably  only  an 
expansion  of  a  saying  of  Plato's,  recorded  by  Philoponus  (De  ^Eternitate,  Mundi,  vi. 
27),  that  Aristotle  was  "the  soul  of  his  school"  (o  vov;  <rws 

4  De  Oratore,  ii.  38,  compared  with  De  Inventione,  ii.  2. 


106  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

to  remark  by  the  way  that  this  taste  for  reading  could  not  have  been 
gratified  without  very  ample  means.  A  collection  of  books  was  a 
luxury  which  lay  within  the  reach  of  as  small  a  portion  of  the  readers 
of  that  day,  as  a  gallery  of  pictures  would  of  the  amateurs  of  this.1 
This  circumstance,  then,  is  calculated  to  throw  additional  discredit  on 
the  story  told  by  Epicurus  of  Aristotle's  youth.  A  bankrupt  apo- 
thecary could  never  have  been  a  book  collector.  Another  work  of 
Aristotle's,  which  is  unfortunately  lost,  was  compiled  during  this  same 
time.  It  was  a  collection  of  Proverbs  (Trapo/'pcu),  a  species  of 
literature  to  which  he,  like  most  other  men  of  reflection,  attached 
great  value.  Two  other  most  important  works,  both  of  which  are 
likewise  lost,  we  may,  from  what  we  know  of  their  nature,  probably 
refer  to  the  same  period,  at  least  as  far  as  their  plan  and  commence- 
ment are  concerned.  The  first  of  these  was  a  work  on  the  funda- 
mental principles  on  which  the  codes  of  law  in  the  States  of  his  time 
were  severally  based.2  The  second  was  an  account  of  no  less  than  one 

1  The  facilities  for  obtaining  the  copy  of  a  book  were  very  much  increased  after 
the  extensive  manufacture  of  papyrus  at  Alexandria  under  the  Ptolemies,  and  when 
transcription  had  become  a  profitable  and  widely-practised  profession.    Yet  we  find 
Polybius  (iii.  32)  at  some  pains  to  take  off  the  objection  to  his  work  arising  from 
its  costliness.     But  in  the  time  of  Aristotle's  youth,  the  expense  must  have  been 
far  greater.     He,  probably  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  possessed  a  very  large 
library  (Athensei.   Epitom.  p.  iii.),  which   he  left  to  his  successor,  Theophrastus. 
(Strabo,  xiii.  p.  608.)     The  philosophers  after  him  appear  likewise  to  have  made 
collections.     We  know  this  for  certain  of  Theophrastus,  Strato,  and  Lycon  (Diog. 
Laert.  v.  sec.  52,  62,  73);  and  such  were  probably  used  under  greater  or  less  re- 
strictions by  their  respective  scholars.     But  nothing  of  this  sort  is  related  of  the 
earlier  philosophers,  whose  systems  indeed  did  not  require  (at  least  to  anything 
like  the  extent  of  Aristotle's)  any  previous  historical  investigation.     And  Plato,  if 
he  really  did  purchase  the  work  of  Philolaus,  as  he  was  said  by  Satyrus,  and  Timon 
the    Sillographer  (Aulus  Gellius,  iii.  17.;    Diog.   Laert.  iii.  9,  viii.  15,  85),  to 
have  done,  and  to  have  reproduced  the  philosophy  of  it  in  his  Timseus,  certainly 
had  no  intention  of  communicating  it  to  his  scholars.     Hence,  it  appears  unlikely 
that  Aristotle  could  have  obtained  the  use  of  the  greater  part  of  the  works  which 
the  plan  of  his  studies  required  by  other  means  than  purchase. 

2  The  title  of  the  treatise  was  £uxa.wp«.<ra.  voXtav.     (See  Casaubon  and  Menage 
on  Diog.  Laert.  v.  26.)     Grotius,  deceived  by  the  corrupt  reading,  woXt/xuv  for 
rt'oXiuv,  in  Ammonius  (sub  v.  ws),  and  Sir  James  Mackintosh  (Discourse  on  the 
Law  of  Nature  and  Nations,  p.  16),  implicitly  following  him,  conceived  that  the 
work  was  "  a  treatise  on  the  laws  of  war."     But  any  one  who  will  peruse  atten- 
tively the  third  book  of  the  Politics,  will  see  that  it  would  be  much  more  accu- 
rately described  by  calling  it   "  a  treatise  on  the  spirit  of  laws."     In  the  small 
states  of  Greece  it  was  not  difficult  to  reduce  all  the  existing  laws,  or  at  any  rate 
those  which  related  to  the  political  constitution,  to  some  one  axiom,  which  was 
regai-ded  as  the  generative  principle,  the  idee-mere  of  the  whole  code.     For  this 
axiom,  whether  explicitly  stated,  or  only  to  be  gathered  from  the  common  and  sta- 
tute law,  the  technical  term  in  Aristotle's  time  was  TO  S/W/av,  "the  rule  of  right." 
This  was  different  in  different  states :  he  speaks  of  TO  VIXKUV  oXtya^ixov,  TO  2/*«u«* 
agiffToxgaTtxov,   and   TO  ^txai&v  %w/u.ox(ia,Tixov,   "  the  oligarchical,    aristocratic,    and 
democratic  rules  of  right."     Such  assertions  of  political  claims  as  might  be  con- 
sidered obvious  applications  of  these  fundamental  axioms  were  called  by  the  name 
^ixaiuftaTu,  "  prerogatives,"  or  "  pleas  of  right,"  being,  in  fact,  embodiments  of 
some  principle  of  equity  in  a  maxim.     Thus,  in  our  own  country,  the  right  of  the 
crown  to  dissolve  parliament;  that  of  the  subject  to  be  tried  by  jury,  and  to  be 


ARISTOTLE.  107 

hundred  and  fifty-eight  (according  to  others  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
one  or  two  hundred  and  fifty-five)  States,  which,  judging  from  some 
fragments  which  have  been  preserved,  involved  their  history  from  the 
earliest  known  times  to  his  own.1  Of  this  invaluable  work  a  great 
many  scraps  remain.  On  those  which  relate  to  Athens,  Sigonius  is 
said  to  have  based  his  account  of  that  commonwealth.2  And  another, 
(or  the  draught  of  it,)  for  which  this  apparently  formed  the  founda- 
tion, the  *  Polities',  has  come  down  to  us  in  all  probability  in  the  state 
in  which  it  was  left  at  the  moment  of  the  author's  death.  We  may 
conclude  the  evidence  which  these  productions  afford  of  their  writer's 
activity  and  industry  with  an  anecdote  preserved  by  Diogenes  (*  Vit. 
Arist.'  sec.  16).  Apparently  to  prevent  the  remission  of  attention 
which  results  from  nature  insensibly  giving  way  under  the  pressure  of 
extremely  laborious  study,  he  was  accustomed  to  read  holding  a  ball 
in  one  hand,  under  which  was  placed  a  brazen  basin.  On  the 
slightest  involuntary  relaxation  of  the  muscles,  the  ball  would  fall,  and 
by  the  sudden  noise  which  it  made,  at  once  dissipate  the  incipient 
drowsiness  of  the  student. 

But  this  intense  love  of  knowledge  had  not  the  common  effect  of  His  geniality 
converting  him  into  a  mere  bookworm.  In  his  works  we  see  nothing 
like  an  undue  depreciation  of  the  active  forms  of  life,  or  even  of  its 
pleasures.  And  this  is  the  more  remarkable  as  we  know  that  his 
frame  was  delicate,  and  his  constitution  weakly,  and  that  in  the  latter 
part  of  his  life  he  suffered  much  from  bad  health,3 — circumstances 
which  in  general  lead  to  an  under- estimate  of  those  pursuits  for  which 
a  certain  robustness  of  body  is  a  necessary  condition.  His  attention 
to  neatness  of  person  and  dress  was  very  considerable ;  indeed,  it  is 
said  that  he  carried  it  to  an  extent  which  Plato  considered  unworthy 
of  a  philosopher.4  Whether  this  account  be  true  or  not,  it  is  certain 
that  his  habits  and  principles  were  the  reverse  of  cynical,  that  he 
enjoyed  life,  and  was  above  any  unnecessary  affectation  of  severity. 
"  Not  apathy,  but  moderation,"  is  a  maxim  ascribed  to-  him  by 
Diogenes.5 

We  have  seen  that  Plato  felt  and  testified  the  highest  admiration  piato's  sen- 
timents 

held  innocent  of  any  charge  till  found  guilty;  that  of  the  peers  to  demand  an  towards  him. 
audience  of  the  sovereign,  and  to  be  the  ultimate  court  of  appeal  in  civil  cases,  are 
so  many  hituiuftetra.  They  are  not  referable  to  one  standard  of  political  justice, 
because  our  consitution  contains  monarchical,  aristocratic,  oligarchal,  and  demo- 
cratic elements.  But  the  Greek  states  were  almost  always  pure  oligarchies  or  pure 
democracies. 

1  Diog.  Laert.  Vit. ;  Pseudo-Ammon.  and  Vit.  Lat.     Compare  Cicero,  De  Fin.  v. 
4,  10;  Varro,  DeL.  L.  vii.  3. 

a  Nunnez,  ad  Vit.  Pseudo-Ammon.  p.  59. 

3  Censorinus,  De  die  natali,  cap.  xiv.     "  Aristotelem  ferunt  naturalem  stomachi 
infirmitatem  crebrasque  morbidi  corporis  offensiones,  adeo  virtute  animi  diu  sus- 
tentasse,  ut  magis  mirum  sit  ad  annos  kiii.  eum  vitam  protulisse,  quam  ultra  non 
pertulisse."     Compare  Gellius,  xiii.  5. 

4  JElian,  Varia  Historia,  iii.  19  ;  Diog.  Laert.  Vit.  Arist.  init. 

5  Vit.  sec.  31. 


108  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

for  the  talents  of  his  pupil.  But  it  appears  that  in  spite  of  this  there 
was  by  no  means  a  perfect  congeniality  in  their  feelings.  Aristotle  is 
said  to  have  offended  his  master  not  only  by  the  carefulness  respecting 
his  personal  appearance  which  we  have  just  spoken  of,  but  by  a 
certain  sarcastic  habit  (/uw/cip),1  which  showed  itself  in  the  expression 
of  his  countenance.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  he  should  have 
indulged  this  humour  in  a  greater  degree  than  Socrates  is  by  Plato 
himself  represented  to  have  done.  However,  a  vein  of  irony  which 
would  appear  very  graceful  in  the  master  whom  he  reverenced,  and 
whose  views  he  enthusiastically  embraced,  might  seem  quite  the 
reverse  in  a  youthful  pupil  who  promised  speedily  to  become  a  rival. 
His  reputed  An  anecdote  is  related  by  ^Elian,2  from  which  we  should  infer  that 
togPkto"de  overt  hostility  broke  out  between  them.  Aristotle,  it  is  said,  taking 
advantage  of  the  absence  of  Xenocrates  from  Athens,  and  of  the  tem- 
porary confinement  of  Speusippus  by  illness,  attacked  Plato  in  the 
presence  of  his  disciples  with  a  series  of  subtle  sophisms  which,  his 
powers  being  impaired  by  extreme  old  age,  had  the  effect  of  per- 
plexing him  and  obliging  him  to  retire  in  confusion  and  shame  from 
the  walks  of  the  Academy.  Xenocrates,  however,  returning  three 
months  after,  drove  Aristotle  away,  and  restored  his  master  to  his 
old  haunts.  On  this  or  some  other  occasion  it  is  said  that  Plato  com- 
pared his  pupil's  conduct  to  that  of  the  young  foals  who  kick  at  their 
dam  as  soon  as  dropped.3  And  the  opinion  that  Aristotle  had  in 
some  way  or  other  behaved  with  ingratitude  to  his  master  certainly 
had  obtained  considerable  currency  in  antiquity;  but  it  is  probable 
that  this,  in  a  great  measure,  arose  from  the  false  interpretation  of  a 
passage  in  the  biography  of  Plato  by  Aristoxenus  the  musician,  whom 
we  have  noticed  in  the  early  part  of  this  essay.4  This  writer  had 
related  that  "  while  Plato  was  absent  from  Athens  on  his  travels, 
certain  individuals,  who  were  foreigners,  established  a  school  in  oppo- 
sition to  him."  "  Some,"  adds  Aristocles,  the  Peripatetic  philo- 
sopher,5 after  quoting  this  passage,  "  have  imagined  that  Aristotle 
was  the  person  here  alluded  to,  but  they  forget  that  Aristoxenus, 
throughout  the  whole  of  his  work,  speaks  of  Aristotle  in  terms  of 
praise."  Every  one  who  is  conversant  with  the  productive  power  of 
Greek  imagination,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  anecdotes  in  that 
fertile  soil  sprang  up  and  assumed  a  more  and  more  circumstantial 

i  .Elian,  loc.  cit.  2  Ibid.  8  .Elian,  Var.  Hist.  iv.  9.  4  Page  96. 

5  Ap.  Eusebium,  Praeparatio  Evangelica,  xv.  2.  Aristocles,  a  native  of  Messina, 
was  the  preceptor  of  the  virtuous  emperor,  Alexander  Severus,  not  of  Alexander 
Aphrodisiensis,  and  consequently  lived  in  the  first  half  of  the  third  century  of  the 
Christian  era.  The  work  from  which  Eusebius  extracts  a  passage  of  some  length, 
relating  to  Aristotle,  was  a  kind  of  History  of  Philosophy,  in  ten  books.  Eusebius's 
extract  is  a  part  of  the  seventh.  The  learning  and  discrimination  of  the  writer  are 
very  great.  He  traces  the  stories  which  he  has  occasion  to  mention  up  to  their 
earliest  origin,  and  refutes  them  in  a  masterly  manner.  There  is  a  literary  notice 
of  him  in  Fabricius's  Bibliotheca  Grseca,  iii.  c.  viii.,  where  see  Heumann's  note. 
It  is  curious  that  in  the  Latin  Life  Aristocles  is  cited,  together  with  Aristoxenus, 
as  an  authority  for  the  very  story  which  he  is  concerned  to  refute. 


ARISTOTLE.  109 

character  on  repetition,  will  not  wonder  that  in  the  course  of  the  five 
centuries  which  intervened  between  Aristoxenus  and  ^Elian,  the  vague 
statement  of  the  first  should  have  bourgeoned  into  the  circumstantial 
narrative  of  the  second.1  Indeed,  independently  of  the  vulgar  in-  Refutation  of 
science  with  which  this  story  invests  the  character  of  Aristotle, — a  the  story' 
quality  of  which  there  is  not  a  trace  in  his  writings, — there  is  much  * 
about  it  which  may  render  us  extremely  suspicious  of  receiving  it. 
In  the  first  place,  other  stories  of  equal  authority  represent  his  feelings 
towards  his  master  as  those  of  ardent  admiration  and  deep  respect. 
His  biographer  informs  us  that  he  dedicated  an  altar  (by  which  he 
probably  means  a  cenotaph)  to  Plato,  and  put  an  inscription  on  it  to 
the  purport  that  Plato  "  was  a  man  whom  it  was  sacrilege  for  the 
bad  even  to  praise."  There  is  certainly  not  much  credit  to  be 
attached  to  the  literal  truth  of  this  story  ;2  but  its  character  may  be 
considered  to  indicate  the  view  which  the  authority  followed  by  the 
biographer  took  of  Aristotle's  sentiments  towards  his  master.  Still 
better  evidence  exists  in  the  way  in  which  Plato  is  spoken  of  in  the 
works  of  his  pupil  that  have  come  down  to  us.  His  opinions  are 
often  controverted,  but  always  with  fairness,  and  never  with  dis- 
courtesy. If  he  is  sometimes  misapprehended,  the  misapprehension 
never  appears  to  be  wilful.  In  one  rather  remarkable  instance  there 
is  exhibited  a  singular  tenderness  and  delicacy  towards  him.  The 
passage  in  question  is  near  the  commencement  of  the  Nicomachean 
Ethics.3  To  the  doctrine  of  Ideas  or  Archetypal  Forms,  as  maintained 
by  Plato,  Aristotle  was  opposed.  It  became  necessary  for  him,  in 
the  treatment  of  his  subject,  to  discuss  the  bearing  of  this  doctrine 
upon  it,  and  he  complains  that  his  task  is  an  unwelcome  one,  from  the 
circumstance  of  persons  to  whom  he  is  attached  tyiXovg  avcipae) 

1  The  literary  men  of  the  declining  period  considered  it  a  part  of  their  duty  to 
supply  all  the  details  which  their  readers  might  desiderate  in  the  more  general 
notices  of  the  classical  writers.  An  amusing  instance  of  this  kind  of  writer  is 
Ptolemy,  the  son  of  Hephaestion,  whose  book  is  described  by  Photius  (Biblioth. 
p.  146-153,  Bekker),  and  strongly  praised  by  him  for  its  utility  to  those  who 
were  desirous  of  voXv/tKfa'u  lo-ro^xri.  Not  to  mention  the  secret  history  of  the 
death  of  Hercules,  Achilles,  and  various  other  celebrated  characters,  we  are  in- 
formed of  the  name  of  the  Delphian,  whom  Herodotus  abstains  from  mentioning 
(i.  51),  and  of  that  of  the  queen  of  Candaules,  which  latter  it  seems  was  Nysia. 
The  reason  of  Herodotus  abstaining  from  giving  it  was,  that  a.,  youth,  named  Ple- 
sirrhoiis,  to  whom  he  was  much  attached,  had  fallen  in  love  with  a  lady  of  that 
appellation,  and,  not  succeeding  in  his  suit,  had  hanged  himself.  This  Ptolemy 
related  in  his  fifth  book.  In  the  third  he  had  informed  his  readers  that  this  very 
Plesirrhoiis  inherited  Herodotus's  property,  and  wrote  the  preface  to  his  history, 
the  commencement  of  it,  as  left  by  the  author,  having  been  with  the  words  Usgo-'iuv 
01  Xoyioi.  He  probably  knew  that  the  readers  for  whom  he  wrote,  even  if  they  read 
both  anecdotes,  would  have  forgotten  the  first  by  the  time  they  reached  the  second. 
Yet  the  age  whose  taste  could  render  books  of  this  description  popular,  was  no 
more  recent  than  that  of  Hadrian,  at  whose  court  ./Elian  and  Phavorinus  lived  and 
wrote. 

8  The  phrase  in  question  is  also  found  in  an  elegy  to  Eudemus,  cited  by  Olym- 
piodorus,  Comment,  ad  Platon.  Gorgiam.  (Bekker,  p.  53.) 

8  P.  1096,  col.  1,  c.  11,  ed  Bekker. 


110  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

having  originated  the  theory.  "  Still,"  he  adds,  "  it  seems  our 
duty  even  to  slay  our  own  flesh  and  blood,"  —  an  allusion  to  such 
cases  as  those  of  Iphigenia,  Polyxena,  and  Macaria,  —  "  where  the 
cause  of  truth  is  at  stake,  especially  as  we  are  philosophers  ;  where 
we  love  both  parties,  it  is  a  sacred  duty  to  prefer  the  truth."  The 
delicacy  which  prompted  such  a  preface  as  this  would  surely  have 
restrained  its  author  from  such  coarseness  as  is  attributed  to  him  in 
^Elian's  story. 

The  way  in  which  Xenocrates  is  mixed  up  with  this  affair  is  not  to 
be  overlooked.  He  is  represented  as  the  vindicator  of  his  master's 
honour,  and  the  punisher  of  the  insolence  and  vanity  of  his  rival.  But 
we  shall  see  presently  this  same  Xenocrates  in  the  character  of  Aris- 
totle's travelling  companion  during  the  three  eventful  years  of  his  life 
which  immediately  followed  the  death  of  Plato,  consequently  at  no 
long  period  after  the  alleged  insult  took  place  and  was  revenged  ;  a 
circumstance  which  certainly  is  very  far  from  harmonizing  with  that 
conduct  of  the  two  philosophers  towards  each  other  which  ^Elian's 
narrative  represents. 

We  must  not  forget  either  that  Aristotle,  although  probably  pos- 
sessed of  considerable  wealth,  and  perhaps  also  of  some  influence  from 
his  Macedonian  connexions,  was  still  only  a  METIC,  or  resident  alien. 
How  sensitive  the  pride  of  the  Athenian  citizen  was  to  any  appearance 
of  pretension  on  the  part  of  these,  is  notorious.1  In  certain  public 
festivals  duties  of  an  inferior,  not  to  say  menial,  character  were  assigned 
to  them.2  They  could  hold  no  land  ;  they  could  not  intermarry  with 
citizens,  nor  even  maintain  a  civil  action  in  their  own  persons,  but  were 
obliged  for  this  purpose  to  employ  a  citizen  as  their  patron  or  sponsor 
(TrpooTcir^g).3  Plato,  on  the  contrary,  was  of  one  of  the  most  illustrious 
families  in  Athens,  and,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  anecdotes  of  his  con- 
nexion with  Chabrias  and  Timotheus,  possessed  friends  among  the 
most  influential  public  characters  of  the  day.4  It  is  scarcely  credible, 
therefore,  even  had  all  better  motives  been  wanting,  that  fear  of  making 
a  powerful  enemy  should  not  have  restrained  Aristotle  from  behaving 
to  his  master  in  the  way  which  has  been  described. 
Uncongeni-  It  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  how  such  stories  grew  up.  There  is  a 
™os*>  marked  contrast  observable  in  the  modes  of  thought  of  the  two 
philosophers,  sueh  a  difference  indeed  as  seems  incompatible  with  con- 
geniality, although  quite  consistent  with  the  highest  mutual  admira- 

1  Eurip.  Suppl.  892. 

s  xsy  rou$  (ttrotxouvTus  %ivous, 


old'  lt^to'TYt?  ruv  Xoyuv,  ohv 
fAKXiffT   &v  ilvt  orifAOTri;  <r$  xal  £e'voj. 

Aristoph.  Acharn.  58.     rous  y&p  [AITOIXOVS  a/xjuoct  T&IY  a.<r<ruv  "jJiyu^  which,  after 
all,  was  doubtless  meant  and  taken  as  a  compliment. 

2  They  were  the  o-xcttpwipogot,  ffxtotdntyogoi,  and  vfyHttybgot. 

3  See  the  authorities  collected  by  Schoemann.     Jus  Publicum  Grsecum,  p.  190. 

4  Diog.  Laert.  Vit.  Plat.  sec.  1,  23;  ^Elian,  Var.  Hist.  ii.  18. 


ARISTOTLE.  Ill 

tion  and  respect.     It  manifests  itself  in  their  very  style ;  Aristotle's 
being  the  dryest  and  most  jejune  prose,  while  that  of  Plato  teems  with 
the  imagery  of  poetry.     The  one  delights  to  dress  his  thoughts  in  all 
the  pomp  of  as  high  a  degree  of  fancy  as  one  can  conceive  united  to  a 
sound  judgment ;  the  other  seems  to  consider  that  the  slightest  gar- 
I  ment  would  cramp  their  vigour  and  hide  their  symmetry.     In  Aris- 
totle we  find  a  searching  and  comprehensive  view  of  things  as  they 
present  themselves  to  the  understanding,  but  no  attempt  to  pass  the 
limits  of  that  faculty — no  suspicion  indeed  that  such  exist.     Plato,  on 
the  contrary,  never  omits  an  opportunity  of  passing  from  the  finite  to 
the  infinite,  from  the  sensuous  to  the  spiritual,  from  the  domain  of  the 
intellect  to  that  of  the  feelings ;  he  is  ever  striving  to  body  forth  an 
ideal,  and  he  only  regards  the  actual  as  it  furnishes  materials  for  this. 
Hence,  he  frequently  forgets  that  he  violates  the  conditions  to  which 
the  actual  world  is  subjected ;  or,  perhaps,  we  should  rather  say,  he  dis- 
regards the  importance  of  this.     A  striking  exemplification  of  the  es- 
sential difference  between  the  two  great  philosophers  is  afforded  by 
the  Republic  of  Plato  compared  with  the  criticism  of  it  by  Aristotle. 
('  Pol.'  ii.)     The  former  seems  to  have  grown  up  out  of  a  wish  to  em- 
body an  ideal  of  justice,  and  is  the  genuine  offspring  of  a  vigorous  and 
luxuriant  imagination  reviewing  the  forms  of  social  life  and  seeing  in 
all  analogies  to  the  original  conception  which  it  was  the  aim  of  the 
artist  to  set  forth.     But  from  this  point  of  view  it  is  never  once  con- 
templated by  its  critic.     Essentially  a  picture,  it  is  discussed  by  him 
as  if  it  were  a  map.1    The  natural  consequence  of  these  different  bents 
is,  that  Aristotle's  views  always  form  parts  of  a  system  intellectually 
complete,  while  Plato's  harmonize  with  each  other  morally :  we  rise 
from  the  study  of  the  latter  with  our  feelings  purified,  from  that  of  the 
former  with  our  perceptions  cleared  ;  the  one  strengthens  the  intellect, 
the  other  elevates  the  spirit.      Consistently  with  this  opposition  it 
happened  that  in  the  early  centuries  Christianity  was  often  grafted  on 
Platonism,  and  even  where  this  was  not  the  case,  many  persons  were 
prepared  for  its  reception  by  the  study  of  Plato ;  while  in  the  age  of 
the  schoolmen — an  age  when  religion  had  become  theology — Aristotle's 
works  were  the  only  food  which  the  philosophy  of  the  time  could  as- 
similate. 

The  difference  which  is  so  strikingly  marked  between  the  matured  Misinter 
philosophical  characters  of  these  two  giant  intellects  is  of  a  kind  which  petedbyin- 

1  The  sacred  subjects,  as  they  were  treated  by  the  early  Italian  painters — indeed 
•down  to  the  time  of  Raffaelle  and  Correggio — present  an  analogy  to  this  work. 
There  is  in  them  a  certain  dominant  thought,  which  it  is  the  artist's  problem  to 
embody,  and  which  all  the  details,  however  incongruous  they  may  be  in  all  other 
respects,  assist  in  bringing  out  more  fully  and  clearly.  Thus  in  the  celebrated 
Vierge  au  Poisson  there  is  a  real  unity  of  feeling  to  which  each  of  the  particulars 
contributes  its  share.  But  a  spectator  who  misses  this  will  at  once  remark  on  the 
glaring  absurdity  of  the  evangelist,  an  old  man,  reading  his  gospel  to  the  subject  of 
it,  an  infant  in  arms  ;  and  of  Tobias  presenting  a  fish  of  the  size  of  a  mackerel,  as 
that  one  which  "  leaped  out  of  the  river  and  would  have  devoured  him,"  Exactly 
on  such  principles  does  Aristotle's  critique  on  the  Republic  proceed. 


112  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

must  have  shown  itself  early.  Neither  could  have  entirely  sympa- 
thised with  the  other,  however  much  he  might  admire  his  genius ;  and 
this  circumstance  may  very  well  have  produced  a  certain  estrangement, 
which  by  such  of  their  followers  as  were  of  too  vulgar  minds  to  under- 
stand the  respect  which  all  really  great  men  must  entertain  for  each 
other,  would  readily  be  misinterpreted.  Difference  of  opinion  would, 
if  proceeding  from  an  equal ,  be  represented  in  the  light  of  hostility, — 
if  from  a  former  pupil,  in  that  of  ingratitude.  The  miserable  spirit  of 
partisanship  prevailing  among  the  Greeks,  which  is  so  strongly  repro- 
bated by  Cicero,1  rapidly  gave  birth  to  tales  which  at  first  probably 
were  meant  only  to  illustrate  the  preconceived  notions  which  they 
were  in  course  of  time  employed  to  confirm.  And  so,  if  Plato  had 
ever  made  a  remark  in  the  same  sense  and  spirit  as  Waller's  epigram 
to  a  lady  singing  one  of  his  own  songs,2  this  might  very  easily  in  its 
passage  through  inferior  and  ungenial  minds  have  been  distorted  into 
the  bitter  reflection  we  have  noticed  above. 

Hostility  Respecting  the  relation  between  Aristotle  and  another  celebrated 

Stotfeand  contemporary  of  his,  there  can  be  no  manner  of  doubt.  All  accounts 
isocrates.  agree  with  the  inference  we  should  draw  from  what  we  find  on  the 
subject  in  his  works,  that  between  him  and  Isocrates  the  rhetorician, 
there  subsisted  a  most  cordial  dislike,  accompanied,  on  the  part  of  the 
former  at  least,  with  as  cordial  a  contempt.  Isocrates  was,  in  fact,  a 
sophist  of  by  no  means  a  high  order.  He  did  not  possess  the  clever- 
ness which  enabled  many  of  that  class  to  put  forth  a  claim  to  universal 
knowledge,  and  under  many  circumstances  to  maintain  it  successfully. 
He  professed  to  teach  nothing  but  the  art  of  oratory ;  but  his  want  of 
comprehensiveness  was  not  compensated  by  any  superior  degree  of  ac- 
curacy or  depth.  Oratory,  according  to  his  view,  was  the  art  of  making 
what  was  important  appear  trivial,  and  what  was  trivial  appear  im- 
portant— in  other  words,  of  proving  black  white  and  white  black. 
He  taught  this*  accomplishment  not  on  any  principles  even  pretending 
to  be  scientific,  but  by  mere  practice  in  the  school,3  like  fencing  or 
boxing.  Indignation  at  this  miserable  substitute  for  philosophical  in- 
stitution, and  at  the  undeserved  reputation  which  its  author  had  ac- 
quired, found  vent  with  Aristotle  in  the  application  of  a  sentiment4 
which  Euripides  in  his  '  Philoctetes,'  a  play  now  lost,  put  into  the 
mouth  of  Ulysses.  He  resolved  himself  to  take  up  the  subject,  and 
his  success  was  so  great  that  Cicero  appears  to  regard  it  as  one  of  the 

1  "Sit  ista  in  Grcecorum  levitate  perversitas,  qui  maledictis  insectantur  eos,  a 
quibus  de  veritate  dissentiunt." — De  Finibus,  ii.  25. 

2  The  eagle's  fate  and  mine  are  one, 

Who,  on  the  shaft  that  made  him  die, 
Espied  a  feather  of  his  own, 

Wherewith  he  wont  to  soar  so  high. 

3  ou  pd'obs?  «xx'  do-xvffti.    Pseudo-Plutarch,  Vit.  Isocr.  p.  838.    Compare  Cicero, 
De  Invent,  ii.  2;  Brut.  12. 

4  al<r%£ov  <riuir$v,  fiagficigovs  $'  lav  t.tytiv.  Aristotle  substituted  the  word  'I 


ARISTOTLE.  113 

principal  motives  which  induced  Philip  to  entrust  him  with  the  edu-  Aristotle 
cation  of  Alexander.1  The  expressions  which  Cicero  uses  in  describing  pve 
.  Aristotle's  treatment  of  the  subject  imply  rather  lectures,  combined  with 
rhetorical  practice  and  historical  illustration,  than  a  formal  treatise,2 
And  this  is  'an  important  point,  inasmuch  as  it  proves  that  Aris- 
totle assumed  the  functions  of  an  instructor  during  this  his  first  resi- 
dence at  Athens.  However,  such  part  of  his  subject  as  embraced  the 
early  history  of  the  art,  and  might  be  regarded  in  the  light  of  an  intro- 
duction to  the  rest,  would  very  likely  appear  by  itself ;  and  this  is 
exactly  the  character  of  the  work  so  highly  praised  by  Cicero,  but  un- 
fortunately lost,  to  which  we  have  before  alluded  (p.  105.)  It  was 
purely  historical  and  critical,  and  contained  none  of  his  own  views. 
These  were  systematically  developed  in  another  work,3  perhaps  the 
one  which  we  possess,  which  was  certainly  not  written  at  this  early 
period.4  Apparently,  in  this  lost  work  the  system  of  Isocrates  was 
attacked  and  severely  handled.  The  assailed  party  does  not  seem  to 
have  come  forward  in  person  to  defend  himself;  but  a  scholar  of  his, 
Cephisodorus,  in  a  polemical  treatise  of  considerable  length,  did  not  Cephisodorus 
confine  himself  to  the  defence  of  his  master's  doctrines,  but  indulged 
in  the  most  virulent  attacks  upon  the  moral  as  well  as  intellectual 
character  of  his  rival.5  Upon  this  work,  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  His  book 
perhaps  sympathising  with  a  brother  rhetorician,  passes  a  high  enco- 
mium.6  But  from  the  little  which  we  know  of  it,  there  is  but  scanty 
room  for  believing  that  its  author  carried  conviction  to  the  minds  of 
many  readers  not  predisposed  to  agree  with  him.  One  of  the  grounds 
on  which  he  holds  his  adversary  up  to  contempt  is  the  having  made  a 
collection  of  proverbs,  an  employment,  in  the  opinion  of  Cephisodorus, 
utterly  unworthy  of  one  professing  to  be  a  philosopher.  Such  as  have 
not,  like  Cephisodorus,  an  enemy  to  overthrow,  by  fair  means  or  foul, 
will  be  inclined  to  smile  at  such  a  charge,  even  if  indeed  they  do  not 
view  it  in  something  like  the  contrary  light.  "  Apophthegms,"  says 
Bacon,  "  are  not  only  for  delight  and  ornament,  but  for  real  businesses 
and  civil  usages ;"  for  they  are,  as  he  said,  "  secures  aut  mucrones  ver- 
borum,  which,  by  their  sharp  edge,  cut  and  penetrate  the  knots  of 
matters  and  business ;  and  occasions  run  round  in  a  ring,  and  what 
was  once  profitable  may  again  be  practised,  and  again  be  effectual, 

1  De  Orat.  iii.  35. 

2  "  Itaque  ornavit  et  illustravit  doctrinam  illam  omnem,  rerumque  cognitionem 
cum  orationis  exercitatione  conjunxit      ....     Hunc  Alexandro  filio  doctorem 
accivit,  a  quo  eodem  ille  et  agendi  acciperet  prsecepta  et  eloquendi." — Cicero,  loc. 
cit. 

3  "Cujus  [Aristotelis]  et  illumkgi  librum,  in  quo  exposuit  dicendi  artes  omnium 
superiorum,  et  illos,  in  quibus  ipse  sua  qusedam  de  eidem  arte  dixit." — De  Orator. 
ii.  38. 

4  See  Clinton,  Fasti  Hellenici,  a.  334. 

5  Aristocles  ap.  Euseb.  loc.  cit.;  Athenseus,  p.  60. 

6  De  Isocrate  Judicium,  sec.  18.     He  calls  it  vdva  0ctufta<r<r>iv.     But  Dionysius 
utterly  fails  where  he  attempts  literary  criticism.     Witness  the  absurd  principles 
on  which  he  proceeds  in  his  comparison  of  Herodotus  and  Thucydides. 

[G.  E.  p.]  i 


114  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

whether  a  man  speak  them  as  ancient  or  make  them  his  own." 
Proverbs  are  the  apophthegms  of  a  people ;  and  from  this  point  of 
view  Aristotle  appears  to  have  formed  his  estimate  of  their  import- 
ance. He  is  said  to  have  regarded  them  as  exhibiting  in  a  compressed 
form  the  wisdom  of  the  age  in  which  they  severally  sprang  up  ;  and, 
as  in  many  instances,  having  been  preserved  by  their  compactness  and 
pregnancy  through  vicissitudes  which  had  swept  away  all  other1  traces 
of  the  people  which  originated  them.1 

Aristotle  at  We  now  pass  to  another  stage  in  the  life 'of  Aristotle.  After 
Hernia?.0  &  twenty  years'  stay  at  Athens,  he,  accompanied  by  the  Platonic- 
34«  7'  345  4  P^^os°P^er  Xenocrates,  passed  over  into  Asia  Minor,  and  took  up  his 
'  residence  at  Atarneus  or  Assos  (for  the  accounts  vary),  in  Mysia,  at 
the  court  of  Hermias.2  Of  the  motives  which  impelled  him  to  this 
step  we  have,  as  is  natural,  very  conflicting  accounts.  His  enemies 
imputed  it  to  a  feeling  of  jealousy,  arising  from  Speusippus  having 
been  appointed  by  Plato,  who  had  died  just  before,  as  his  successor  in 
the  school  of  the  Academy.3  Others  attributed  it  to  a  yet  more  vulgar 
motive,  a  taste  for  the  coarse  sensualities  and  ostentatious  luxury  of 
an  oriental  court.*  But  the  first  of  these  reasons  will  seem  to  deserve 
but  little  credit  when  we  consider  that  the  position  which  Plato  had 
held  was  not  recognised  in  any  public  manner ;  that  there  was  neither 
endowment  nor  dignity  attached  to  it ;  that  all  honour  or  profit 
arising  from  it  was  due  solely  to  the  personal  merits  of  the  philoso- 
pher ;  that  in  all  probability  Aristotle  himself  had  occupied  a  similar 
position  before  the  death  of  Plato  ;  and  that,  if  he  felt  himself  injured 
by  the  selection  of  Speusippus  (Plato's  nephew),  he  had  every  oppor- 
tunity of  showing  by  the  best  of  all  tests,  competition,  how  erroneous 
a  judgment  had  been  formed  of  their  respective  merits.  And  with 
regard  to  the  second  view,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  remark,  that  for  the 
twenty  years  preceding  this  epoch,  as  well  as  afterwards,  he  possessed 
the  option  of  living  at  the  court  of  Macedonia,  where  he  probably  had 
connexions,  and  where  there  was  equal  scope  for  indulging  the  tastes 
in  question.  We  shall,  therefore,  feel  no  scruple  in  referring  this 
journey  to  other  and  more  adequate  causes.  The  reader  of  Grecian 

1  Synesius,  Encom.  Calvitii,  p.  59,  ed.  Turneb. 

fi  Strabo,  xiii.  p.  126,  ed.  Tauchnitz.     Diodorus  Siculus,  xvi.  53. 

3  .Elian,  Var.  Hist.  iii.  19.     Eubulides  (ap.  Aristocl.  Euseb.  Prsep.  Ev.  xv.  2) 
alleged  that  Aristotle  refused  to  be  present  at  Plato's  deathbed. 

4  To  this  the  epigram  of  Theocritus  of  Chios  (ap.  Aristocl.  loc.  cit.)  perhaps 
alludes : — 

'Egpiott  ilvov-^ov  <rt  xcu  'EufiouXou  TO$I  "bofaoti 
MVWJAK  xivov  xtvotpeav  SWK&V  '  A0iff-TOT&%.ns' 

Of   OlK  TYIV  KX^OiTn    yOLffTQOf  fyvfflV  tiXlTO   VCllllV 

'Ayr'  ' Aimlnf&sias  flogfiogou  Iv  vrgoxaeuf. 

although  Plutarch  applies  it  to  his  residence  in  Macedonia.  The  cenotaph  spoken 
of  in  the  second  line  is  probably  the  foundation  for  the  "  altar  "  to  Plato,  of  which 
the  latter  writers  speak.  Theocritus  of  Chios  was  a  contemporary  of  Aristotle. 
The  Syracusan  poet  of  the  same  name,  in  an  epigram  ascribed  to  him,  protests 
against  being  identified  with  him. 


ARISTOTLE.  115 

history  will  not  fail  to  recollect  that  the  suspicions  which  the  Athenians 
had  for  some  time  entertained  of  the  ambitious  designs  of  Philip 
received  a  sudden  confirmation  just  at  this  moment  by  the  successes 
of  that  monarch  in  the  Chalcidian  peninsula.  The  fall  of  Olynthus 
and  the  destruction  of  the  Greek  confederacy,  of  which  that  town  was 
the  head,1  produced  at  Athens  a  feeling  of  indignation  mixed  with 
fear,  of  which  Demosthenes  did  not  fail  to  take  advantage  to  kindle 
a  strong  hatred  of  anything  belonging  to  Macedon.  The  modern 
example  of  France  will  enable  us  readily  to  understand  how  dangerous 
must  have  been  the  position  of  a  foreigner,  by  birth,  connexions,  or 
feelings  in  the  slightest  degree  mixed  up  with  the  unpopular  party, 
especially  when  resident  in  a  democratic  state,  in  which  the  statute 
laws  were  every  day  subject  to  be  violated  by  the  extemporaneous 
resolutions  ^^itrpara)  of  a  popular  assembly.  Philip,  indeed,  was 
accustomed — or  at  any  rate  by  his  enemies  believed — to  make  use  of 
such  aliens,  as  from  any  cause  were  allowed  free  ingress  to  the  states 
with  which  he  was  not  on  good  terms,  as  his  emissaries.2  It  is 
scarcely  possible  under  these  circumstances  to  conceive  that  the 
jealousy  of  party  hatred  should  fail  to  view  the  distinguished  philo- 
sopher, the  friend  of  Antipater,  and  the  son  of  a  Macedonian  court- 
physician,  with  dislike  and  distrust,  especially  if,  as  from  Cicero's 
description  appears  highly  probable,  political  affairs  entered  consider- 
ably into  the  course  of  his  public  instructions. 

Here,  then,  wre  have  a  reason,  quite  independent  of  any  particular 
motive,  for  Aristotle's  quitting  Athens  at  this  especial  time.  And 
others,  little  less  weighty,  existed  to  take  him  to  the  court  of  Hermias. 
For  some  time  before,  the  gigantic  body  of  the  Persian  empire  had  Revolt  of 
exhibited  symptoms  of  breaking  up.  Egypt  had  for  a  considerable  dependem 
period  maintained  itself  in  a  state  of  independence,  and  the  success  of 
the  experiment  had  produced  the  revolt  of  Phoenicia.  The  cities  of 
Asia  Minor,  whose  intercourse  with  Greece  Proper  was  constant, 
naturally  felt  an  even  greater  desire  to  throw  off  the  yoke,  and  about 
the  year  349  before  the  Christian  era,  most  of  them  were  in  a  state 
of  open  rebellion.  Confederacies  of  greater  or  less  extent  for  the 
purpose  of  maintaining  their  common  independence  were  formed 
among  them ;  and  over  one  of  these,  which  included  Atarneus  and 
Assos,  one  Eubulus,  a  native  of  Bithynia,  exercised  a  sway  which  Eubuius. 
Suidas  represents  as  that  of  an  absolute  prince.3  This  remarkable 
man,  of  whom  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  we  know  so  little,  is 
described  as  having  carried  on  the  trade  of  a  banker4  in  one  of  these 
towns.  If  this  be  true,  the  train  of  circumstances  which  led  him 
to  the  pitch  of  power  which  he  seems  to  have  reached  was  probably 
such  a  one  as,  in  more  modern  times,  made  the  son  of  a  brewer  of 

1  Above,  p.  102. 

2  The  case  of  Anaxinus  (see  ^Eschines  c.  Ctes.  p.  85 ;  Demosth.  De  Cor.  p.  272) 
may  serve  as  one  instance  among  many. 

3  Iwiffrov.  4  Tga<rs£/Tav.     Strabo,  xiii.  vol.  iii.  p.  126. 

12 


116  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

Ghent  regent  of  Flanders,  and  the  Medici  dukes  of  Tuscany.  A 
struggle  for  national  existence  calls  forth  the  confidence  of  the 
governed  in  those  who  possess  the  genius  which  alone  can  preserve 
them,  as  unboundedly  as  it  stimulates  that  genius  itself;  and  there 
appears  no  reason  why  the  name  of  tyrant  or  dynast  should  have  been 
bestowed  upon  Eubulus  more  than  upon  Philip  van  Artevelde  or 
William  of  Orange.  He  was  assisted  in  the  duties  of  his  government, 

Hermias.  and  afterwards  succeeded,  by  Hermias,  who  is  termed  by  Strabo  his 
slave, — a  term  which  a  Greek  would  apply  no  less  to  the  vizier  than 
to  the  lowest  menial  servant  of  an  Asiatic  potentate.  He  is  also 
described  as  an  eunuch ;  but,  whether  this  was  the  case  or  not,  he  was 
a  man  of  education  and  philosophy,  and  had  during  a  residence  at 
Athens  attended  the  instructions  of  both  Plato  and  Aristotle.1  By 
the  invitation  of  this  individual  the  latter,  accompanied  by  Xenocrates, 
passed  over  at  this  particular  juncture  into  Mysia  ;  and  it  will  surely 
not  seem  an  improbable  conjecture  that  the  especial  object  for  which 
their  presence  was  desired  was  to  frame  a  political  constitution,  in 
order  that  the  little  confederacy,  of  which  Hermias  may  perhaps  be 
regarded  as  the  general  and  stadtholder,  might  be  kept  together  and 
enabled  to  maintain  its  independence  in  spite  of  the  formidable  power 
of  the  Persian  empire.  Ably  as  such  a  task  would  doubtless  have 
been  executed  by  so  wise  a  statesman  as  even  the  fragmentary  political 
work  that  has  come  down  to  us  proves  Aristotle  to  have  been,  it  was 
not  blessed  with  success.  Fortune  for  a  time  favoured  the  cause  of 
freedom,  but  the  barbarian's  hour  was  not  come.  The  treachery  of  a 
Ehodian  leader  of  condottieri  in  the  service  of  the  revolted  Egyptians 
enabled  the  Persian  king,  Artaxerxes  Ochus,  rapidly  to  overrun  Phoe- 
nicia and  Egypt,  and  to  devote  the  whole  force  of  his  empire  to  the 
reduction  of  Asia  Minor.  Yet  Hermias  made  his  ground  good,  until 
at  last  he  suffered  himself  to  be  entrapped  into  a  personal  conference 
with  the  Greek  general  Mentor,  the  traitor  whose  perfidy  had  rained 
the  Egyptian  cause,  and  who  now  commanded  the  Persian  army  that 

Death  of  '    was  sent  against  Atarneus.     In  spite  of  the  assurance  of  a  solemn 

Hermias.  oath?  his  person  was  seized  and  sent  to  the  court  of  the  Persian  king, 
who  ordered  him  to  be  strangled.  The  fortresses  which  commanded 
the  country  surrendered  at  the  sight  of  his  signet ;  and  Atarneus  and 

Ari^otl.(: flies  Assos  were  occupied  by  Persian  troops.2  The  two  philosophers  were 
oiymp.  '  only  enabled  to  save  themselves  by  a  precipitate  flight  to  Mytilene, 
taking  with  them  Pythias,  the  sister  and  adopted  daughter  of  Her- 
mias.3 It  is  singular  that  Aristotle's  intercourse  with  the  prince 
of  Atarneus,  and  more  especially  that  part  which  related  to  his  con- 
nexion with  this  woman,  whom  he  married,  should  have  brought  more 
calumny  upon  him  than  any  other  event  of  his  life ;  and  the  strangest 
thing  of  all,  according  to  our  modern  habits  of  thinking,  is  that  he 
himself  should  have  thought  it  necessary,  for  the  satisfaction  of  his 

1  Strabo,  loc.  cit.  2  Ibid.  loc.  cit.     Diodorus,  xvi.  sec.  52,  53,  54. 

3  Aristocles,  ap.  Euseb.  loc.  cit. 


CV111 


ARISTOTLE.  117 

own  friends,  to  give  a  particular  explanation  of  his  motives  to  the 
marriage.     In  a  letter  to  Antipater,  which  is  cited  by  Aristocles,1  he  Marries 
relates  the  circumstances  which  induced  him  to  take  this  step ;  and  ^y1*11*8- 
they  are  calculated  to  give  us  as  high  an  opinion  of  the  goodness  of 
his  heart  as  his  works  do  of  the  power  of  his  intellect.     The  calamity 
which  had  befallen  Hermias  would  necessarily  have  entailed  utter 
misery,  and  in  all  probability  death,  upon  his  adopted  daughter,  had 
she  been  left  behind.     In  this  conjuncture,  respect  for  the  memory  of 
his  murdered  friend,  and  compassion  for  the  defenceless  situation  of 
the  girl,  induced  him,  knowing  her  besides,  as  he  says,  to  be  modest 
and  amiable,2  to  take  her  as  his  wife.     It  is  a  striking  proof  of  the 
utter  want  of  sentiment  in   the  intercourse   between  the  sexes  in 
Greece,  that  this  noble  and  generous  conduct,  as  every  European  will 
at  once  confess  it  to  have  been,  should  have  drawn  down  obloquy 
upon  the  head  of  its  actor ;  while,  if  he  had  left  the  helpless  creature 
to  be  carried  off  to  a  Persian  harem,  or  sacrificed  to  the  lust  of  a 
brutal  soldiery,  not  a  human  being  would  have  breathed  the  slightest 
word  of  censure  upon  the  atrocity.     Even  his  apologists  appear  to 
have  considered  this  as  one  of  the  most  vulnerable  points  of  his  cha- 
racter.   When  Aristocles3  discusses  the  charges  which  had  been  made  is  caiu 
against  him,  he  dismisses  most  of  them  with  contempt  as  carrying  the  Uqjen 
marks  of  falsehood  in  their  very  front.     "Two,  however,"  he  adds, 
"  do  appear  to  have  obtained  credit,  the  one  that  he  treated  Plato 
with  ingratitude,  the  other  that  he  married  the  daughter  of  Hermias." 
And,  indeed,  the  relation  of  Aristotle  to  the  father  furnished  a  subject 
for  many  publications4  in  the  second  and  third  centuries  before  Christ, 
and  appears  to  have  excited  as  much  interest  among  literary  anti- 
quarians of  that  day,  as  the  question  who  wrote  *  Icon  Basilike,'  or 
the  '  Letters  of  Junius,'  might  do  in  modern  times.     The  treatise  of 
Apellicon  of  Teos,  a  wealthy  antiquary  and  bibliomaniac  contemporary 
with  Sylla,  was  regarded  as  the  classical  work  among  them.     We 
shall  have  occasion,  in  the  sequel,  to  say  something  more,  about  this 
personage.     Aristocles5  speaks  of  his  book  as  sufficient  to  set  the 
whole  question  at  rest,  and  silence  all  the  calumniators  of  the  philoso- 
pher for  ever.     Indeed,  if  we  may  judge  of  the  whole  of  their  charges 
from  the  few  specimens  that  have  come  down  to  us,  a  further  refuta- 
tion than  their  own  extravagance  was  hardly  needful.     The  hand  of 
Pythias  is  there  represented  as  purchased  by  a  fulsome  adulation  of 
her  adopted  father,6  and  a  subserviency  to  the  most  loathsome  vices 
which  human  nature  in  its  lowest  state  of  depravity  can  engender ; 
and  the  husband  is  said,  in  exultation  at  his  good  fortune,  to  have 
paid  to  his  father-in-law  a  service  appropriated  to  the  gods  alone, 

1  Ap.  Euseb.  loc  cit.  2  aXAa;?  ffeutpgova  xetl  a.ya.&w  outra.*. 

8  Ap.  Euseb.  loc.  cit.         4  Aristocles,  loc.  cit.          5  Ap.  Euseb.  loc.  cit. 
6  She  is  m  some  accounts  represented,  not  as  his  sister,  but  as  his  concubine. 
Others,  not  considering  him  an  eunuch,  call  her  his  daughter.     One,  probably  to 
reconcile  all  accounts,  calls  her  his  daughter,  jjy  KK\  S^ulia.;  uv  sWe/gsv.      (Pseudo- 
Ammon.) 


118  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

singing  his  praises,  like  those  of  Apollo,  in  a  sacred  paean.  For- 
tunately this  composition  has  come  down  to  us,  and  turns  out  to  be  a 
common  scolium,  or  drinking  song,  similar  in  its  nature  to  the  cele- 
brated one,  so  popular  at  Athenian  banquets,  which  records  the 
deserts  of  Harmodius  and  Aristogitoii.  It  possesses  no  very  high 
degree  of  poetical  merit  ;  but  as  an  expression  of  good  feeling,  and  as 
a  literary  curiosity,  being  the  only  remaining  specimen  of  its  author's 
powers  in  this  branch,  it  perhaps  deserves  a  place  in  the  note.1  The 
perfection  of  the  manly  character  is  personified  as  *'  a  virgin,  for 
whose  charms  it  is  an  enviable  lot  to  die,  or  to  endure  the  severest 
hardships.  The  enthusiasm  with  which  she  inspires  the  hearts  of  her 
lovers  is  more  precious  than  gold,  than  parents,  than  the  luxury  of 
soft-eyed  sleep  !  For  her  it  was  that  Hercules  and  the  sons  of  Leda 
toiled,  and  Achilles  and  Ajax  died!  her  fair  form,  too,  made  Her- 
mias,  the  nursling  of  Atarneus,  renounce  the  cheerful  light  of  the  sun. 
Hence  his  deeds  shall  become  the  subject  of  song,  and  the  Muses, 
daughters  of  Memory,  shall  wed  him  to  immortality  when  they 
magnify  the  name  of  Jupiter  Xenius  (i.  e.  Jupiter  as  the  protector  of 
the  rights  of  hospitality),  and  bestow  its  meed  on  firm  and  faithful 
friendship  !"  By  comparing  this  relic  with  the  scolium  to  Harmodius 
and  Aristogiton,  which  Athenaaus  has  preserved  on  the  page  pre- 
ceding the  one  from  which  this  is  taken,  the  reader  will  at  once  see 
that  Hermias  is  mentioned  together  with  Achilles  and  Ajax,  and  the 
other  heroes  of  mythology,  only  in  the  same  manner  as  Harmodius  is  ; 
yet  not  only  did  this  performance  bring  down  on  its  author's  head  the 
calumnies  we  have  mentioned,  but  many  years  after  it  was  even  made! 


fiiw  ! 
T»(>6iv 


xet   vrov9Vf 
<ro7ov  tvri  <o 


v  Tt  XQitrtru  xa,}  yov'iuv 
7o  61  vfvou. 


svs^  OVK 
rt  Kovoot 
trav  aptv 


"Aietf  <r  d'toeto  *b'o[ 
ffeis  T*  tvtxsv  QtK 
xeti 


roiyetg  et 

K^a.VK'TOV   71  ftIV 


Aio;  Ziviou  ffiQfc; 

qnXias  TI  y'ioai  fitfietiou. 

This  Scolium  is  preserved  in  Diogenes  Laert.  Vit.  Arist.  sec.  7;  Athenseus, 
p.  696;  and  Stobseus,  Serm.  i.  p.  2.  From  the  first  (sec.  27)  we  learn  that  Aris- 
totle also  composed  some  epic  and  some  elegiac  poetry. 


ARISTOTLE.  119 

the  basis  of  a  prosecution  of  him  for  blasphemy :  such  straws  will 
envy  and  malice  grasp  at ! 

The  respect  of  the  philosopher  for  his  departed  friend  was  yet 
further  attested  by  the  erection  of  a  statue,  or,  as  some  say,  a  ceno- 
taph, to  him  at  Delphi,  with  an  inscription,  in  which  his  death  was 
recorded  "  as  wrought  in  outrage  of  the  sacred  laws  of  the  gods,  by 
the  monarch  of  the  bow-bearing  Persians,  not  fairly  by  the  spear  in 
the  bloody  battle-field,  but  through  the  false  pledge  of  a  crafty  vil- 
lain I"1  And  "  the  nearer  view  of  wedded  life  "  does  not  seem  in  any 
respect  to  have  diminished  the  good  opinion  he  had  originally  formed 
of  his  friend's  daughter.  She  died — how  soon  after  their  marriage  we 
cannot  say — leaving  one  orphan  daughter;  and  not  only  was  her 
memory  honoured  by  the  widower  with  a  respect  which  exposed  him, 
as  in  the  former  instance  of  her  father,  to  the  charge  of  idolatry,2  but, 
in  his  will,  made  some  time  afterwards,  he  provides  that  her  bones 
should  be  taken  up  and  laid  by  the  side  of  his,  wherever  he  might  be 
buried,  as,  says  he,  she  herself  enjoined.3 

At  this  epoch  of  Aristotle's  life,  when  the  clouds  of  adversity  ap-  Aristotle 
peared  to  be  at  the  thickest,  his  brightest  fortunes  were  about  to  f?es  *° 

TT      ,      .     n    ,  ,,      .,  3    .,        ,  ,      ,,  ,  .  r  ,  Macedon  to 

appear.     He  had  ned  to  Mytilene  an  exile,  deprived  ol  his  powerful  educate 
friend,  and  apparently  cut  off  from  all  present  opportunity  of  bringing  A1JjyjJ)Jer* 
his  gigantic  powers  of  mind  into  play.     But  in  Mytilene  he  received      cik.  2. 
an  invitation  from  Philip  to  undertake  the  training  of  one  who,  in  the  B'c'  343~li* 
world  of  action,  was  destined  to  achieve  an  empire,  which  only  that 
of  his  master  in  the  world  of  thought  has  ever  surpassed.     A  con- 
junction of  two  such  spirits  has  not  been  yet  twice  recorded  in  the 
annals  of  mankind ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  anything  more 
interesting  and  fruitful  than  a  good  contemporary  account  of  the  inter- 
course between  them  would  have  been.     But,  although  such  a  one 
did  exist,  we  are  not  fortunate  enough  to  possess  it.     The  destroying 
hand  of  time  has  been  most  active  exactly  where  we  should  most 
desire  information  as  to  details  ;  and  almost  all  the  description  we  can 
give  of  this  period  is  founded  upon  the  scanty  notices  on  the  subject 
furnished  by  Plutarch  in  his  biography  of  the  great  conqueror. 

How  far  the  mere  personal  character  of  Aristotle  contributed  to  Philip's 
procuring  him  the  invitation  from  Philip,  it  is  difficult  to  say.    Cicero 
represents  the  king  as  mainly  determined  to  the  step  by  the  reputation  with 
of  the  philosopher's  rhetorical  lectures.4     A  letter  preserved  by  Aulus  totle< 
Gellius  (ix.  3),  which  is  well  known,  but  can  scarcely  be  genuine, 
would  induce  us  to  believe  that,  from  the  very  birth  of  Alexander,  he 
was  destined  by  his  father  to  grow  up  under  the  superintendence  of 
his  latest  instructor.     It  is,  indeed,  not  unlikely  that,  at  this  early 
period,  Aristotle  was  well  known  to  Philip.     We  have  seen  that,  in 
all  probability,  his  earliest  years  were  passed  at  the  court,  where  his 
father  possessed  the  highest  confidence  of  the  father  of  Philip.    More- 
1  Diog.  Vit.  sec.  6.  2  ibid>  sec.  4. 

3  Ibid,  sec,  16.  *  De  Oratore,  iii.  35. 


120  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

over,  he  is  said,  although  neither  the  time  nor  the  occasion  is  specified, 
to  have  rendered  services  to  the  Athenians  as  ambassador  to  the  court 
of  Macedon.1  But  if  this  letter  be  genuine,  how  are  we  able  to 
account  for  the  absence  of  the  philosopher  from  his  charge  during  the 
thirteen  years  which  elapsed  between  its  professed  date  and  the  second 
year  of  the  109th  Olympiad,  in  which  we  know  for  certain  that  he 
entered  upon  his  important  task  ?  For  that  it  was  not  because  he 
considered  the  influences  exerted  upon  this  tender  age  unimportant,  is 
clear  from  the  great  stress  he  lays  upon  their  effect  in  the  eighth  book 
of  his  '  Politics,'  which  is  entirely  devoted  to  the  details  of  this  sub- 
Alexander's  ject.2  And  although  Alexander  was  only  thirteen  years  old  when  his 
early  masters  connexjon  with  Aristotle  commenced,  yet  the  seeds  of  many  vices 
had  even  at  that  early  period  been  sown  by  the  unskilful  hands  of 
former  instructors  ;  and  perhaps  the  best  means  of  estimating  the  value 
of  Aristotle's  services  is  to'  compare  what  his  pupil  really  became  with 
what  he  would  naturally  have  been  had  he  been  left  under  the  care  of 
these.  Two  are  particularly  noticed  by  Plutarch,3  of  totally  opposite 
dispositions,  and  singularly  calculated  to  produce,  by  their  combined 
action,  that  oscillation  between  asceticism  and  luxury  which,  in  the 
latter  part  of  his  life  especially,  was  so  striking  a  feature  in  Alexander's 
Leonidas.  character.  The  first  was  Leonidas,  a  relation  of  his  mother  Olympias, 
a  rough  and  austere  soldier,  who  appears  to  have  directed  all  his 
efforts  to  the  production  of  a  Spartan  endurance  of  hardship  and  con- 
tempt of  danger.  He  was  accustomed  to  ransack  his  pupil's  trunks 
for  the  purpose  of  discovering  any  luxurious  dress  or  other  means  of 
indulgence  which  might  have  been  sent  by  his  mother  to  him  :  and, 
at  the  outset  of  Alexander's  Asiatic  expedition,  on  the  occasion  of  an 
entertainment  by  his  adopted  mother,  a  Carian  princess,  he  told  her  that 
Leonidas's  early  discipline  had  made  all  culinary  refinements  a  matter 
of  indifference  to  him ;  that  the  only  cook  he  had  ever  been  allowed 
to  season  his  breakfast  was  a  good  night's  journey ;  and  the  only  one 
to  improve  his  supper,  a  scanty  breakfast.4  An  education  of  which 
these  traits  are  characteristic  might  very  well  produce  the  personal 
hardiness  and  animal  courage  for  which  Alexander  was  distinguished ; 
it  might  enable  him  to  tame  a  Bucephalus,  to  surpass  all  his  con- 
temporaries in  swiftness  of  foot,  to  leap  down  alone  amidst  a  crowd  of 
enemies  from  the  ramparts  of  a  besieged  town,  to  kill  a  lion  in  single 
combat  ;5  it  might  even  inspire  the  passion  for  military  glory,  which 
vented  itself  in  tears  when  there  was  nothing  left  to  conquer  ;6  but  it 
would  be  almost  as  favourable  to  the  growth  of  the  coarser  vices  as  to 
the  development  of  these  ruder  virtues ;  and  we  learn  that,  to  the  day 
of  his  death,  the  ruffianly  and  intemperate  dispositions  which  belong 

1  Diog.  Vit.  sec.  2. 

2  See  especially  p.  1334,  col.  2,  line  25,  et  seq.;  p.  1338,  col.  1,  line  5,  et.  seq. 
ed.  Bekker. 

3  Vit.  Alex.  sec.  5.  4  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  22.  5  Ibid.  6—40,  &c. 
6        Unus  Pellaeo  juveni  non  sufficit  orbis. — Juv.  Sat.  x.  168. 


ARISTOTLE.  121 

to  barbarian  blood,  and  which  the  influences  of  Leonidas  had  tended 
rather  to  increase  than  diminish,  were  never  entirely  subdued  by 
Alexander.1  The  character  of  Lysimachus,  the  other  instructor  espe-  Lysimachus.. 
daily  noticed  by  Plutarch,  was  very  different,  but  hardly  likely  to 
have  produced  a  much  more  beneficial  effect.  He  was  by  birth  an 
Acarnanian,  and  an  expert  flatterer,  by  which  means  he  is  said  to  have 
gained  great  favour.  His  favourite  thought  appears  to  have  been  to 
compare  Alexander  to  Achilles,  Philip  to  Peleus,  and  himself  to 
Phoenix,  as  the  characters  are  described  in  the  epic  poetry  of  Greece ; 
and  this  insipid  stuff  it  was  his  delight  to  act  out  in  the  ordinary 
business  of  life.  At  a  later  period,  this  passion  for  scene-making 
nearly  cost  poor  Phoenix  and  his  master  their  lives  ;2  and  to  it  is  pro- 
bably due,  in^  a  great  measure,  the  cormorant  appetite  for  adulation 
which  is  the  most  disgusting  feature  in  the  history  of  the  latter.  To 
neither,  then,  of  these  two  individuals — and  if  not  to  these,  of  course 
much  less  to  the  crowd  of  masters  in  reading,  writing,  horsemanship, 
harp-playing,  and  the  other  accomplishments  included  by  ancient 
education  in  its  two  branches  of  fiovaiKrj  and  yv/zmort/aj — can  we 
ascribe  a  share  in  the  production  of  that  character  which  distinguishes 
Alexander  from  any  successful  military  leader.  But  to  Aristotle  Alexander's 
some  of  the  ancients  attribute  a  degree  and  kind  of  merit  in  this 
respect  which  is  perfectly  absurd.  Plutarch  says  that  his  pupil  gained 
from  him  more  towards  the  accomplishment  of  his  schemes  than  from 
Philip.3  Alexander  himself  was  accustomed  to  say,  that  he  honoured 
Aristotle  no  less  than  his  own  father ;  that  to  the  one  he  owed  life, 
but  to  the  other  all  that  made  life  valuable  :4  and  it  is  very  likely  that 
the  misinterpretation  of  such  phrases  as  these  led  to  the  belief  that  the 
conqueror  had  received  from  his  instructor  direct  advice  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  great  exploit  which  has  made  him  known  to  posterity. 
But  the  obligations  to  which  he  really  alluded  were  probably  of  a 
totally  different  kind.  Philip  is  said  to  have  perceived,  at  a  very 
early  age,  that  his  son's  disposition  was  a  most  peculiar  one,  sensible 
in  the  highest  degree  of  kindness,  and  tractable  by  gentle'  measures, 
but  absolutely  ungovernable  by  force,  and  consequently  requiring, 
instead  of  the  austerity  of  a  Leonidas,  or  the  flattery  of  a  Lysimachus, 
the  influence  of  one  who  could,  by  his  character  and  abilities,  com- 

1  "  Leonidas  Alexandri  paedagogus,  ut  a  Babylonio  Diogene  traditur,  quibusdam 
eum  vitiis  imbuit,  quse  robustum  quoque  et  jam  maximum  regem  ab  ilia  institu- 
tione  puerili  sunt  prosecuta."* — Quintilian,  Inst.  Or.  i.  1,  8.     Is  it  not  probable 
that  Aristotle,  in  the  seventh  book  of  his  Politics  (p.  1324,  col.  1,  line  23,  et  seq., 
and  p.  1333,  col.  2,  line  10,  et  seq.)  has  a  particular  reference  to  the  views  of 
Leonidas  ? 

2  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  24. 

3  Plutarch,  De  Fortun.  Alexandri.     See  Ste.  Croix,  Examen  Historique,  p.  84. 
Such  expressions  as  these  led  later  writers  to  yet  more  extravagant  ones ;  such  as 
Roger  Bacon's,  "  per  vias  sapientiae  mundum  Alexandro  tradidit  Aristoteles;"  and 
probably  to  the  same  source  is  to  be  traced  the  romance  of  the  philosopher  having 
personally  attended  his  pupil  in  his  expedition. 

4  Plutarch,  Vit.  Alex.  sec.  8. 


122 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


His  literary 
tastes. 


His  mental 
cultivation. 


Rapidity  of 
his  education 


mand  respect,  and  by  his  tact  and  judgment  preserve  it.  Such  quali- 
fications he  found  in  Aristotle,  and  the  good  effects  seem  to  have 
speedily  shown  themselves.  From  a  rude  and  intemperate  barbarian 
his  nature  expanded  and  exhibited  itself  in  an  attachment  to  philosophy, 
a  desire  of  mental  cultivation,  and  a  fondness  for  study.  So  com- 
pletely did  he  acquire  higher  and  more  civilized  tastes,  that  being  at 
the  extremity  of  Asia,  in  a  letter  to  Harpalus  he  desires  that  the 
works  of  Philistus  the  historian,  the  tragedies  of  ^schylus,  Sophocles, 
and  Euripides,  and  the  dithyrambs  of  Telestes  and  Philoxenus,  should 
be  sent  to  him.  Homer  was  his  constant  travelling  companion.  A 
copy,  corrected  by  Aristotle,  was  deposited  by  the  side  of  his  dagger, 
under  the  pillow  of  the  couch  on  which  he  slept  ;l  and,  on  the  occa- 
sion of  a  magnificent  casket  being  found  among  the  spoils  of  Darius's 
camp,  when  a  discussion  arose  as  to  how  it  should  be  employed,  the 
king  declared  that  it  should  be  appropriated  to  the  use  of  containing 
this  copy.2  But  his  education  had  not  been  confined  to  the  lighter 
species  of  literature ;  on  the  contrary,  he  appears  to  have  been  intro- 
duced to  the  gravest  and  most  abstruse  parts  of  philosophy,  to  which 
the  term  of  acroamatic  was  specifically  applied.  We  shall,  in  the 
sequel,  examine  more  fully  what  exact  notion  is  to  be  attached  to  this 
term  :8  in  the  meantime  it  will  be  sufficient  to  observe  that  it  included 
the  highest  branches  of  the  science  of  that  day.  In  a  letter,  then, 
preserved  by  Plutarch  and  Aulus  Gellius,4  Alexander  complains  that 
his  preceptor  had  published  those  of  his  works  to  which  this  phrase 
was  applied.  "  How,"  he  asks,  "  now  that  this  is  the  case,  will  he 
be  able  to  maintain  his  superiority  to  others  in  mental  accomplish- 
ments— a  superiority  which  he  valued  more  than  the  distinction  he 
had  won  by  his  conquests?"  Gellius  likewise  gives  us  Aristotle's 
answer,  in  which  he  excuses  himself  by  saying,  "  that  although  the 
works  in  question  were  published,  they  would  be  useless  to  all  who 
had  not  previously  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  his  oral  instructions."  What- 
ever may  be  our  opinion  as  to  the  genuineness  of  these  letters,  which 
Gellius  says  he  took  from  the  book  of  the  philosopher  Andronicus  (a 
contemporary  of  Cicero's,  to  whom  we  shall  on  a  future  occasion  again 
revert),  it  is  quite  clear  that  if  they  are  forgeries,  they  were  forged  in 
accordance  with  a  general  belief  of  the  time,  that  there  was  no  depart- 
ment of  knowledge,  however  recondite,  to  which  Aristotle  had  not 
taken  pains  to  introduce  his  pupil. 

But  the  most  extraordinary  feature  in  the  education  of  Alexander  is 
the  short  space  of  time  which  it  occupied.  From  the  time  of  Aristotle's 
arrival  in  Macedonia  to  the  expedition  of  his  pupil  into  Asia  there 
elapsed  eight  years  («'.  e.,)  from  Olymp.  cix.  2.  to  Olymp.  cxi.  2.) 
But  of  this  only  a  part,  less  than  the  half,  can  have  been  devoted  to 

1  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  7,  8. 

2  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  26 ;  Strabo,  xiii. ;  Plin.  Nat.  Hist.  v.  30. 

3  See  below,  p.  159. 

4  Plutarch,  Vit.  Alex.  sec.  7  ;  Gellius,  Noc.  Att.  xx.  5. 


ARISTOTLE.  123 

the  purpose  of  systematic  instruction.  For  in  the  fourth  year  of  this 
period,1  we  find  Philip  during  an  expedition  to  Byzantium  leaving 
his  son  sole  and  absolute  regent  of  the  kingdom.  Some  barbarian 
subjects  having  revolted,  Alexander  undertook  an  expedition  in  person 
against  them,  and  took  their  city,  which  he  called  after  his  own  name, 
Alexandropolis.  From  this  time  he  was  continually  engaged  in  busi- 
ness, now  leading  the  decisive  charge  at  Cha3ronea,  and  now  involved 
in  court  intrigues  against  a  party  who  endeavoured  to  gain  Philip's 
confidence,  and  induce  him  to  alter  the  succession.2  It  is  clear,  there- 
fore, that  all  instruction  in  the  stricter  sense  of  the  word,  must  have 
terminated.  Yet  that  a  very  considerable  influence  may  have  been  Aristotle's 
still  exerted  by  Aristotle  upon  the  mind  of  Alexander,  is  not  only  in  o"ereAiex- 
itself  probable,  but  is  confirmed  by  the  titles  of  some  of  his  writings  ander. 
Which  are  now  lost.  Ammonius,  in  his  division  of  the  works  of  the 
philosopher,  mentions  a  certain  class8  as  consisting  of  treatises  written 
for  the  behoof  of  particular  individuals,  and  specifies  among  them  those 
books  "  which  he  composed  at  the  request  of  Alexander  of  Macedon, 
that  '  On  Monarchy,'  and  '  Instructions  on  the  Mode  of  establishing 
Colonies.'  "  The  titles  of  these  works  may  lead  us  to  conjecture  that 
the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  Alexander's  subsequent  policy,  the 
attempt  to  fuse  into  one  mass  his  old  subjects  and  the  people  he  had 
conquered,  the  assimilation  of  their  manners,  especially  by  education 
and  intermarriages,  the  connexion  of  remote  regions  by  building  cities, 
making  roads,  and  establishing  commercial  enterprises,  may  be  in  no 
small  measure  due  to  the  counsels  of  his  preceptor.  A  modern  writer, 
indeed,  has  imagined  an  analogy  between  this  assimilative  policy  of 
the  conqueror,  and  the  generalizing  genius  of  the  philosopher.4  And 
there  really  does  seem  some  ground  for  this  belief,  in  spite  of  an  ob- 
servation of  Plutarch's,5  which  is  at  first  sight  diametrically  opposed 
to  it.  After  speaking  of  the  Stoical  notions  of  an  universal  republic, 
he  says,  that  magnificent  as  the  scheme  was,  it  was  never  realized, 
but  remained  a  mere  speculation  of  that  school  of  philosophy  ;  and  he 
adds  that  Alexander,  who  nearly  realized  it,  did  so  in  opposition  to  the 
advice  of  Aristotle,  who  had  recommended  him  to  treat  the  Greeks  as 
a  general  (//ye^on/cwc),  but  the  barbarians  as  a  master  (deo-Trorucwg), 
— the  one  as  friends,  the  other  as  instruments.  But  there  is  no  other 
authority  than  Plutarch  for  this  story ;  and  it  seems  far  from  impro- 

1  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  9  ;  Diodorus,  xvi.  77.     See  Clinton,  Fast.  Hell.  a.  340,  339. 

2  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  9,  10. 

3  TO,  Mooixai.     Ammon.  Hermeneut.  ad  Aristot.  Categor.  p.  7,  ed.  Aid.     The 
two  works  alluded  to  are  cited  by  the  anonymous  author  of  the  Life  printed  by 
Buhle  in  his  edition  of  Aristotle,  pp.  60-67,  under  the  titles  vifi  /3a<r/>u/«j  and 
'AAs'gav^fl;,  %  vvrl^  aLveixtuv.     Diogenes  mentions  the  latter  by  the  same  name,  and 
Pseudo-Ammonius  the  former.    The  anonymous  writer  adds  a  third 

fyev,  TJ  wig}  priro^o;  »}  WS^ITIXOU,  by  which  he  probably  means  the  p 
av^av,  which  we  have. 

4  Joh.  von  Mueller,  Allgemeine  Geschichte,  i.  p.  160. 

5  De  Virt.  et  Fort.  Alexandri,  p.  329. 


124  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

bable  that  it  is  entirely  built  upon  certain  expressions  used  by  Aristotle 

His  views  in  the  first  book  of  his  *  Politics.'  In  that  place  he  recognizes  the 
relation  between  master  and  slave  as  a  natural  one  ;  and  he  also  main- 
tains the  superiority  of  Greeks  over  barbarians  to  be  so  decided  and 
permanent  as  to  justify  the  supremacy  of  the  one  over  the  other.  Of 
the  latter  he  argues  that  they  have  not  the  faculty  of  governing  in 
them,  and  that,  therefore,  the  state  of  slavery  is  for  them  the  natural 
and  proper  form  of  the  social  relation.  But  it  should  not  be  over- 

Misrepre-  looked,  as  by  some  modern  writers  it  has  been,1  that  Aristotle  expli- 
citly distinguishes  between  a  slave  de  facto  and  a  slave  de  jure,  and 
that  he  grounds  his  vindication  of  slavery  entirely  on  the  principle  that 
such  a  relation  shall  be  the  most  beneficial  one  to  both  the  parties  con- 
cerned in  it.  Where  this  condition  is  wanting,  wherever  the  party 
governed  is  susceptible  of  a  higher  order  of  government,  he  distinctly 
maintains  that  the  relation  is  a  false  and  unnatural  one.  If,  therefore, 
his  experience  had  brought  him  into  contact  with  the  highly-cultivated 
and  generous  races  of  upper  Asia  to  which  Alexander  penetrated,  he 
must  in  consistency  with  his  own  principle,  that  every  man's  nature 
is  to  be  developed  to  the  highest  point  of  which  it  is  capable,  have 
advised  that  these  should  be  treated  on  the  same  footing  as  the  Greeks, 
and  Alexander's  conduct  would  only  appear  a  natural  deduction  from 

Exculpated,  the  general  principles  inculcated  by  his  master.2  As  far  as  concerned 
the  barbarians,  with  whom  alone  the  Greeks  previously  to  Alexander's 
expedition  had  been  brought  into  contact,  the  neighbours  of  the  Greek 
cities  in  Asia  Minor  and  the  Propontis,  the  savage  hordes  of  Thrace, 
or  the  Nomad  races  inhabiting  the  African  Syrtis,  Aristotle's  position 
was  a  most  reasonable  one.  Christianity  seems  the  only  possible 
means  for  the  mutual  pacification  of  races  so  different  from  one  another 
in  every  thought,  feeling,  and  habit,  as  these  and  the  polished  Greeks 
were  :  and  Christianity  itself  solves  the  problem  not  by  those  modifi- 
cations of  social  life  through  which  alone  the  statesman  acts,  or  can 
act ;  but  by  awakening  all  to  the  consciousness  that  there  exists  a 
common  bond  higher  than  all  social  relations ;  it  does  not  aim  at  ob- 
literating national  peculiarities,  but  it  dwarfs  their  importance  in  com- 
parison with  the  universal  religious  faith.  If  we  would  really  under- 
stand the  opinions  of  a  writer  of  antiquity,  we  must  understand  the 
ground  on  which  he  rests,  and  must  rest.  We  have  no  right  to  require 
of  a  pagan  philosopher  three  centuries  before  Christ,  that  in  his  system 
he  should  take  account  of  the  influences  of  Christianity ;  and  they  who 
scoff  at  the  importance  which  he  attaches  to  the  difference  of  race, 
would  do  well  to  point  out  any  instance  in  the  history  of  the  world  of 
a  barbarous  people  becoming  amalgamated  with  a  highly-civilized  one 
by  any  other  agency. 

stagirus  re-        If  Aristotle  might  reasonably  feel  proud  of  the  talents  and  acquire- 

1  Paley,  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy,  c.  v.  p.  12. 

2  From  this  point  of  view  too,  the  assertion  of  Plutarch,  quoted  above  (p.  123), 
acquires  a  plausibility,  which  otherwise  we  could  never  allow  it. 


ARISTOTLE.  125 

ments  of  his  pupil,  his  gratification  would  be  yet  more  enhanced  by 
the  nature  of  the  reward  which  his  services  received.  We  have  men- 
tioned above  the  unhappy  fate  of  Stagirus,  Aristotle's  birthplace. 
Although  his  own  fortunes  were  little  affected  by  this  calamity,  his 
patriotism,  if  we  may  believe  the  account  in  Plutarch,  induced  him  to 
demand  as  the  price  of  his  instructions,  the  restoration  of  his  native 
town.  It  was  accordingly  rebuilt,  such  of  the  inhabitants  as  were 
living  in  exile  were  restored  to  the  home  of  their  infancy,  such  as  had 
been  sold  for  slaves  were  redeemed,  and  in  the  days  of  Plutarch 
strangers  were  shown  the  shady  groves  in  which  the  philosopher 
had  walked,  and  the  stone  benches  whereon  he  used  to  repose.1  The 
constitution  under  which  the  new  citizens  lived  was  said  to  be  drawn 
up  by  him,2  and  long  afterwards  his  memory  was  celebrated  by  the 
Stagirites  in  a  solemn  festival,  and,  it  is  said,  one  month  of  the  year 
(perhaps  the  one  in  which  he  was  born)  called  by  his  name.3  There 
is  every  reason  to  believe  that  during  the  latter  part  of  his  connexion 
with  Alexander,  when  the  more  direct  instruction  had  ceased,  the 
newly-built  town  furnished  him  with  a  quiet  retreat,  and  that  he  then 
and  there  composed  the  treatises  we  have  mentioned  above,  for  the 
use  of  his  absent  pupil.  While  their  personal  communication  lasted, 
Pella,  the  capital  of  Macedonia,  was  probably  his  residence,4  as  it  is 
scarcely  probable  that  Philip  would  have  liked  to  trust  the  person  of 
the  heir-apparent  out  of  his  dominions. 

We  shall  conclude  the  account  of  this  portion  of  Aristotle's  life  by  Fellow- 
the  mention  of  three  other  remarkable  persons  who  probably  all  shared  pupiisof 

•  i      i  i  i       •       11          n        i*  i  •     •  •  IT          11.  Alexander. 

with  Alexander  in  the  beneht  of  his  instructions,  although  this  is  only 
positively  stated  of  the  last  of  them.5  The  first  of  these  was  Callis- 

1  Plutarch,  Vit.  Alex.  sec.  7.    In  this  matter  the  accounts  are  confused.     ^Elian 
(Var.  Hist.  iii.  17  ;  xii.  54),  Diogenes  (v.  4),  and  Pliny  (vii.  29),  attribute  the 
restoration  to  Alexander.     If  it  took  place  at  the  commencement  of  the  regency, 
these  may  be  reconciled  with  Plutarch.     But  the  testimony  of  Valerius  Maximus 
(v.  6)  would  refer  both  the  destruction  and  rebuilding  of  Stagirus  to  Alexander, 
and  that  too  at  a  time  when  Aristotle  was  very  old  and  residing  in  Athens.     The 
gentlest  mode  of  reconciling  this  inaccurate  epitomizer  with  possibilities,  is  to  sup- 
pose that  he  has  confounded  Stagirus  with  Eressus,  the  birthplace  of  Theophrastus, 
of  whom  Diogenes  and  Pseudo-Ammonius  relate  a  somewhat  similar  story. 

2  Plutarch,  adv.  Colot.  extr. 

3  Pseudo-Ammon.  and  Vit.  Lat.     The  name  "  Stagirites  "  shows  the  very  late 
rise  of  this  feature  of  the  story.     It  may  be  built,  however,  on  a  true  foundation. 

4  This  has  been  by  Stahr  (Aristotelia,  i.  p.  104)  inferred  from  the  expression 
fioofiogou  iv  yrgox.oa'ts  in  Theocritus's  Epigram,  quoted  above,  p.  114,  note.     The 
Macedonians,  he  says,  called  the  river,  on  whose  banks  Pella  stood,  by  the  name 
Bdg&ogos.     We  cannot  find  any  authority  except  Plutarch  for  this  assertion;  and 
should  be  inclined  to  recognize  in  the  expression  in  question  a  moral  rather  than  a 
physical  allusion. 

*  Suidas,  v.  Marsyas.     That  Callisthenes  and  Theophrastus  were  together  pupils 
of  Aristotle  appears  from  Diogenes  (Vit.  Theoph.  sec.  39) ;  and  the  Macedonian 
connexions  of  both  would  incline  us  to  believe  that  it  was  in  that  country  that 
this  relation  existed.     Theophrastus  was  personally  known  to  Philip,  and  treated 
with  distinction  by  him.     (./Elian,  Var.  Hist.  iv.  19.)     And  if  Callisthenes  had 
been  Aristotle's  pupil  at  Athens,  his  character  would  surely  have  been  sufficiently 


126  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

thenes,  a  son  of  Aristotle's  cousin,  who  afterwards  attended  Alexander 
in  his  Asiatic  expedition,  and  to  whom  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
revert  in  the  sequel.  The  second  was,  Theophrastus,  Aristotle's  suc- 
cessor in  the  school  of  the  Lyceum  some  years  afterwards ;  and  the 
third  was  one  Marsyas,  a  native  of  Pella,  brother  to  the  Antigonus, 
who,  after  the  death  of  Alexander,  when  the  generals  of  the  monarch 
divided  their  master's  conquests  among  them,  became  King  of  Lycia 
and  Pamphylia.  He  was  a  soldier  and  a  man  of  letters ;  and  one 
work  of  his  '  On  the  Education  of  Alexander'  is,  perhaps,  as  great  a 
loss  to  us  as  any  composition  of  antiquity  which  could  be  named. 
Aristotle  On  Alexander  commencing  his  eastern  expedition,  Aristotle,  leaving 

Athens  to  kis  relation  and  pupil  Callisthenes  to  supply  his  own  place  as  a  friendly 
B.C.  335-4.  adviser  to  the  youthful  monarch,  whom  he  accompanied  in  the  osten- 
sible character  of  historiographer,1  returned  to  Athens.  Whether 
this  step  was  the  consequence  of  any  specific  invitation  or  not,  it  is 
difficult  to  say.  Some  accounts  state  that  he  received  a  public  request 
from  the  Athenians  to  come,  and  conjointly  with  Xenocrates  to  suc- 
ceed Speusippus.2  But  these  views  appear  to  proceed  upon  the 
essentially  false  opinion  that  the  position  of  teacher  was  already  a 
publicly  recognized  one,  and  besides  to  imply  the  belief  that  Xenocrates 
and  Aristotle  were  at  the  time  on  their  travels  together ;  whereas  we 
know  that  the  latter  was  in  Macedonia  till  B.C.  335,  and  that  the 
former  had  four  years  before  this  time  succeeded  Speusippus,  not  by 
virtue  of  any  public  appointment,  but  in  consequence  of  his  private 
why-  wish.3  If  any  more  precise  reason  be  required  for  the  philosopher's 

change  of  residence  than  the  one  which  probably  determined  him  at 
first  to  visit  Athens,  namely,  the  superior  attractions  which  that  city 
possessed  for  cultivated  and  refined  minds,  we  should  incline  to  believe 
that  the  greater  mildness  of  climate  was  the  influencing  cause.4  His 
health  was  unquestionably  delicate ;  and,  perhaps,  it  was  a  regard  for 
this,  combined  with  the  wish  to  economize  time,  that  induced  him  to 
deliver  his  instructions  (or  at  least  a  part  of  them)  not  sitting  or 
standing,  but  walking  backwards  and  forwards  in  the  open  air.  The 
extent  to  which  he  carried  this  practice,  although  the  example  of  Pro- 
tagoras5 in  Plato's  Dialogue  is  enough  to  show  that  he  did  not  originate 
it,  procured  for  his  scholars,  who  of  course  were  obliged  to  conform  to 
Peripatetics,  this  habit,  the  soubriquet  of '  Peripatetics,'  or '  Walkers  backwards  and 

developed  eleven  years  afterwards  to  exhibit  his  unfitness  as  an  adviser  of  Alexander 
to  any  eye,  certainly  to  the  sharp-sighted  one  of  Aristotle.  Besides,  it  is  not  likely 
that  Alexander  would  have  chosen  one  whom  he  was  not  already  acquainted  with, 
to  attend  him  in  such  a  capacity  as  Callisthenes  did. 

1  Arrian,  iv.  10. 

2  Pseudo-Ammon.  Vit.  Lat. 

3  Diog.  Laert.  iv.  3. 

4  This  seems  to  be  the  true  interpretation  of  the  expression  of  Aristotle  cited  by 
Demetrius  (De  Elocut.  sec.  29,  155),  \yu  IK  ju.lv  'Afavuv  il$  ^rctyti^tn  v\6ov  liu  TOV 
/Sair/Xsa  <rov  [tlyav,  Ix  $1  ~2,rat,y'ti£uv  tis  'A&qvxs  $101,  rev  %ii{tuvot  rov 

5  P.  314,  E.  315,  C. 


ARISTOTLE.  127 

forwards/1  From  a  neighbouring  temple  of  Apollo  Lyceus,  his  school 
was  commonly  known  by  the  name  of  the  Lyceum  ;*  and  here  every 
morning  and  evening  he  delivered  lectures  to  a  numerous  body  of 
scholars.  Among  these  he  appears  to  have  made  a  division.  The  Division  of 
morning  course,  or,  as  he  called  it  from  the  place  where  it  was  deli-  his  scholars- 
vered,  the  morning  walk  (twOtvoc  Trep'nraros),  was  attended  only  by 
the  more  highly-disciplined  part  of  his  auditory,  the  subjects  of.it  be- 
longing to  the  higher  branches  of  philosophy,  and  requiring  a  system- 
atic attention  as  well  as  a  previously-cultivated  understanding  on  the 
part  of  the  scholar.  In  the  evening  course  (htXtroQ  TrepiiraTOQ)  the 
subjects  as  well  as  the  manner  of  treating  them  were  of  a  more  popular 
cast,  and  more  appreciable  by  a  mixed  assembly.  Aulus  Gellius,3  who 
is  our  sole  authority  on  this  matter,  affirms  that  the  expressions  acroatic 
discourses  and  exoteric  discourses  (\oyot  aKpwariKol  and  Xoyoi  t^wTepiKol) 
were  the  appropriate  technical  terms  for  these  instructions :  and  he 
further  says  that  the  former  comprised  theological,  physical,  and  dia- 
lectic investigations ;  the  latter  rhetoric,  sophistic  (or  the  art  of  disput- 
ing), and  politics.  We  shall  in  another  place  examine  thoroughly  into 
the  precise  meaning  of  these  celebrated  phrases,  a  task  which  would 
in  this  place  too  much  break  the  thread  of  the  narrative.  We  may, 
however,  remark  that  the  morning  discourses  were  called  acroatic  or 
subjects  of  lectures,  not  because  they  belonged  to  this  or  that  branch, 
but  because  they  were  treated  in  a  technical  and  systematic  manner ; 
and  so  the  evening  discourses  obtained  the  name  of  exoteric  or  separate, 
because  each  of  them  was  insulated,  and  not  forming  an  integral  part 
of  a  system.  It  is  obvious  that  some  subjects  are  more  suitable  to  the 
one  of  these  methods,  and  others  to  the  other ;  and  the  division  which 
Gellius  makes  is,  generally  speaking,  a  good  one.  But  that  it  does 
not  hold  universally  is  plain,  not  to  mention  other  arguments,  from 
the  fact  that  the  work  on  '  Rhetoric*  which  has  come  down  to  us  is  an 
acroatic  work,  and  that  on  *  Polities'  the  unfinished  draught  of  one ; 
while,  on  the  contrary,  a  fragment  of  an  exoteric  work  preserved  by 
Cicero  in  a  Latin  dress  is  upon  a  theological  subject. 

The  more  select  circle  of  his  scholars  Aristotle  used  to  assemble  at  Their  con- 
stated times  on  a  footing,  which  without  any  straining  of  analogy  we  J^vlsaI  meet" 
may  compare  to  the  periodical  dinners  held  by  some  of  the  literary 
clubs  of  modern  times.     Their  object  obviously  was  to  combine  the 
advantages  of  high  intellectual  cultivation  with  the  charms  of  social 
intercourse ;  to  make  men  feel  that  philosophy  was  not  a  thing  separate 
from  the  daily  uses  of  life,  but  entered  into  all  its  charities,  and  was 
mixed  up  with  its  real  pleasures.     These  reunions  were  conducted 

1  Cicero,  Academ.  Post.  i.  4.     Cicero  translates  the  word  •rspvar&iv  by  inambu- 
lare.     Hermippus  explained  it  by  avaxa^TTs/v.     Diogenes  Laertius  (v.  2)  attri- 
butes the  origin  of  this  practice  with  Aristotle  to  a  regard,  not  for  his  own  health, 
but  for  that  of  Alexander. 

2  Before  the  Peloponnesian  War  it  had  been  used  as  a  gymnasium,  and  was  said 
to  have  been  built  by  Pisistratus.     See  Aristoph.  Pac.  355,  and  the  Scholiast. 

3  Noct.  Att.  xx.  5. 


128  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

according  to  regular  rules,1  of  which  we  know  enough  to  see  that  the 
cynicism  or  pedantry,  which  frequently  induces  such  as  would  be  ac- 
counted deep  thinkers  to  despise  the  elegancies  or  even  the  decencies 
of  life  was  strongly  discountenanced.2  In  these  days,  especially  in 
England,  where  so  many  different  elements  combine  to  produce  social 
intercourse  in  its  highest  perfection,  it  is  difficult  to  estimate  the  im- 
portant effect  which  must  have  been  brought  about  by  a  custom  such 
as  that  just  mentioned.  "  To  enjoy  leisure  gracefully  and  creditably," 
is  not  easy  for  any  one  at  any  time,  but  for  the  Athenian  in  the  days 
Athenian  of  Aristotle  was  a  task  of  the  greatest  difficulty.  Deprived  of  that 
course"1*6'  "  kind  of  female  intercourse  which  in  modern  social  life  is  the  great  in- 
strument for  humanizing  the  other  sex,  softening,  as  it  does,  through 
the  affections,  the  disposition  to  ferocity  and  rudeness,  and  checking 
the  licentious  passions  by  the  dignity  of  matronly  or  maidenly  purity, 
the  youth  of  ancient  Greece  almost  universally  fell  either  into  a  ruffianly 
asceticism,  or  a  low  and  vulgar  profligacy.  Some  affected  the  austere 
manner  and  sordid  garb  of  the  Lacedaemonians,3  regarding  as  effeminate 
all  geniality  of  disposition,  all  taste  for  the  refinements  of  life,  every- 
thing in  short  which  did  not  directly  tend  to  the  production  of  mere 
energy  :  while  others  entirely  quenched  the  moral  will  and  the  higher 
mental  faculties  in  a  debauchery  of  the  coarsest  kind.4  To  open  a  new 
region  of  enjoyment  to  the  choicer  spirits  of  the  time,  and  thus  save 
them  from  the  distortion  or  corruption  to  which  they  otherwise  seemed 
doomed,  was  a  highly-  important  service  to  the  cause  of  civilization. 
The  pleasure  and  utility  resulting  from  the  institution  was  very  gene- 
rally recognised.  Xenocrates,  the  friend  of  Aristotle,  adopted  it. 
Theophrastus,  his  successor,  left  a  sum  of  money  in  his  will  to  be 
applied  to  defraying  the  expenses  of  these  meetings  ;  and  there  were 
in  after  times  similar  periodical  gatherings  of  the  followers  of  the  Stoic 
philosophers,  Diogenes,  Antipater,  and  Panastius.5  If  some  of  these, 
or  others  of  similar  nature,  in  the  course  of  time  degenerated  into  mere 
excuses  for  sensual  indulgence,  as  Athenaeus  seems  to  hint,  no  argu- 
ment can  be  thence  derived  against  their  great  utility  while  the  spirit 
of  the  institution  was  preserved. 

Their  public      Another  arrangement  made  by  Aristotle  in  the  management  of  his 

exercises.      instructions  appears  particularly  worthy  of  notice.     In  imitation,  as 

some  say,  of  a  practice  of  Xenocrates,  he  appointed  one  of  his  scholars 

1  Athenseus,  p.  186. 

2  'Agiffrorthfis  $i  oiXourov  ttcti  xoviogrov  TX^>j  JJxi/v  rivet  \<xi  TO  trvfAvrotriov  K<TT^\S 
tivai  (ffifh.  —  Athenseus,  p.  186,  E. 

3  That  the  Aaxwv^av/a  so  admirably  hit  off  by  Aristophanes  (Av.  1729,  et  seq.) 
lasted  long  after  his  time  is  clear,  not  to  mention  other  arguments,  from  the  evident 
prevalence  of  the  views  which  Aristotle  takes  so  much  pains  to  controvert. 


offns  yt  Vivsiv  ol$t  XK\  $m~v  p-ovov.        Aristoph.  Ran.  751. 

The  manners  of  the  latter  comedy,  as  preserved  in  Terence's  plays,  are  a  sufficient 
evidence  that  this  sarcasm  was  little  less  applicable  at  Athens  throughout  the  fourth 
century  before  the  Christian  era. 
*  Athenaeus,  p.  186. 


ARISTOTLE.  129 

to  play  the  part  of  a  sort  of  president  in  his  school,  holding  the  office 
for  the  space  of  ten  days,  after  which  another  took  his  place.1  This 
peculiarity  seems  to  derive  illustration  from  the  practice  of  the  univer- 
sities of  Europe  in  the  middle  ages,  in  which,  as  is  well  known,  it 
was  the  custom  for  individuals  on  various  occasions  to  maintain  certain 
theses  against  all  who  chose  to  controvert  them.  A  remnant  of  this 
practice  remains  to  this  day  in  the  *  Acts'  (as  they  are  termed),  which 
are  kept  in  the  University  of  Cambridge  by  candidates  for  a  degree  in 
either  of  the  Faculties.  It  is  an  arrangement  which  results  necessarily 
from  the  scarcity  of  books  of  instruction,  and  is  dropped  or  degenerates 
into  a  mere  form  when  this  deficiency  is  removed.  While  information 
on  any  given  subject  must  be  derived  entirely  or  mainly  from  the 
mouth  of  the  teacher,  —  as  was  the  case  in  the  time  of  Aristotle,  no 
less  than  that  of  Scotus  and  Aquinas,  —  the  most  satisfactory  test  of 
the  learner's  proficiency  is  his  ability  to  maintain  the  theory  which  he 
has  received  against  all  arguments  which  may  be  brought  against  it. 
We  shall  probably  be  right  in  supposing  that  this  was  the  duty  of  the 
president  (apxwj/)  spoken  of  by  Diogenes.  He  was,  in  the  language 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  keeping  an  act.  He  had  for  the  space  of  ten 
days  to  defend  his  own  theory  and  to  refute  the  objections  (aWpicu) 
which  his  brother-disciples  might  either  entertain  or  invent,  the  master 
in  the  meantime  taking  the  place  of  a  moderator,  occasionally  inter- 
posing to  show  where  issue  must  be  joined,  to  prevent  either  party 
from  drawing  illogical  conclusions  from  acknowledged  premises,  and, 
probably,  after  the  discussion  had  been  continued  for  a  sufficient  time, 
to  point  out  the  ground  of  the  fallacy.  This  explanation  will  also 
serve  to  account  for  a  phenomenon,  which  cannot  fail  to  strike  a  reader 
on  the  perusal  of  any  one  of  Aristotle's  writings  that  have  come  down 
to  us.  The  systematic  treatment  of  a  subject  is  continually  broken  by 
an  apparently  needless  discussion  of  objections  which  may  be  brought 
against  some  particular  part.  These  are  stated  more  or  less  fully,  and 
are  likewise  taken  off;  or  it  sometimes  happens  that  merely  the  prin- 
ciple on  which  the  solution  must  proceed  is  indicated,  and  it  is  left  to 
the  ingenuity  of  the  reader  to  fill  up  the  details.  To  return  to  our 
subject,  it  is  quite  obvious  that  such  a  discipline  as  we  have  described 


xxi  Iv  ry  ff-^o^  vopoQirilv,  ftiftevpivov  Sivuxgoirvv  utrrt  xaret  ¥1x0, 
a^avra  voiiTv.  (Diog.  Laert.  Vit.  sec.  4.)  Itaque  mihi  semper  Peripateticorum 
Academiseque  consuetude  de  omnibus  rebus  in  contrarias  partes  disserendi  non  ob 
earn  causam  solum  placuit,  quod  aliter  non  posset,  quid  in  quaque  re  veri  simile 
esset,  inveniri  ;  sed  etiam  quod  esset  ea  maxima  dicendi  exercitatio  :  qu^,  princeps 
usus  est  Aristoteles,  deinde,  eum  qui  secuti  sunt.  (Cicero,  Tusc.  Qu.  ii.  3.)  Sin 
aliquis  extiterit  aliquando,  qui  Aristoteleo  more  de  omnibus  rebus  in  utramque 
partem  possit  dicere,  et  in  omni  caus£  duas  contrarias  orationes,  prseceptis  illius 
cognitis,  explicare  ;  aut  hoc  Arcesilae  modo  et  Carneadi,  contra  omne  quod  proposi- 
turn  sit  disserat;  quique  ad  earn  rationem  adjungat  hunc  rhetoricum  usum  moremque 
dicendi,  —  is  sit  verus,  is  perfectus,  is  solus  orator."  (Cicero,  De  Oral.  iii.  21.)  The 
passage  from  Quintilian  (i.  2,  23),  quoted  by  Menage  in  his  note  on  Diogenes  (Joe. 
cit.),  refers  to  an  essentially  different  kind  of  discipline,  arising  out  of  other  grounds 
and  directed  to  other  ends. 

[O.  R.  P.]  K 


130 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


Gellius's 
account  ex- 
plained. 


Effect  of  this 
discipline  on 
the  subject- 
matter  of 
philosophy. 


On  the  phi- 
losopher. 


must  have  had  a  wonderful  effect  in  sharpening  the  dialectical  talent  of 
the  student,  and  in  producing — perhaps  at  the  expense  of  the  more 
valuable  faculty  of  deep  and  systematic  thought — extraordinary  astute- 
ness and  agility  in  argumentation.  Indeed,  if  we  make  abstraction  of 
the  subject-matter  of  the  discussions,  we  may  very  well  regard  the 
exercise  as  simply  a  practical  instruction  in  the  art  of  Disputation, — 
that  which  formed  the  staple  of  the  education  of  the  Sophists.  And 
now  we  may  understand  how  Gellius,1  writing  in  the  second  century 
after  Christ,  should  place  this  art  among  the  branches  which  Aristotle's 
evening  course  embraced,  although  in  the  sense  in  which  the  Sophists 
taught  it,  he  would  have  scorned  to  make  any  such  profession.2  In 
what  other  light  could  this  compiler  have  viewed  the  fact,  that  insu- 
lated topics  arising  out  of  a  subject  which  they  had  heard  systematically 
treated  by  their  master  in  his  lectures  (aKpoatmg)  of  the  morning, 
were  debated  by  Aristotle's  more  advanced  scholars,  in  the  presence 
of  the  whole  body,  in  the  evening,  the  master  being  himself  present 
and  regulating  the  whole  discussion. 

It  is  evident  that  in  this  species  of  exercise  it  is  not  the  faculty  of 
comprehending  philosophic  truth  that  plays  the  most  prominent  part. 
As  regards  the  subject-matter  of  such  debates,  nothing  which  is  at  all 
incomplete,  nothing  unsusceptible  of  rigid  definition  is  available.  Con- 
sequently the  whole  of  that  extensive  region,  where  knowledge  exists 
in  a  state  of  growth  and  gradual  consolidation, — the  domain  of  half- 
evolved  truths,  of  observations  and  theories  blended  together  in  varying 
proportions,  of  approximately  ascertained  laws,  in  the  main  true,  but 
still  apparently  irreconcilable  with  some  phenomena, — all  this  fertile 
soil,  out  of  which  every  particle  of  real  knowledge  has  sprung  and 
must  spring,  will  be  neglected  as  barren  and  unprofitable.  Where 
public  discussion  is  the  only  test  to  be  applied,  an  impregnable  para- 
dox will  be  more  valued  than  an  imperfectly -established  truth.3  And 
it  is  not  only  by  diverting  the  attention  of  the  student  away  from  the 
profitable  fields  of  knowledge,  that  a  pernicious  effect  will  be  produced. 
He  will  further  be  tempted  to  give,  perhaps  unconsciously,  an  artificial 
roundness  to  established  facts  by  means  of  arbitrary  definitions.  In 
nature  everything  is  shaded  off  by  imperceptible  gradations  into  some- 
thing entirely  different.  Who  can  define  the  exact  line  which  separates 
the  animal  from  the  vegetable  kingdom,  or  the  family  of  bijds  from 
that  of  animals  ?  Who  can  say  exactly  where  disinterestedness  in  the 
individual  character  joins  on  to  a  well-regulated  self-love  ? — or  wThere 
fanaticism  ends  and  hypocrisy  begins  ?  But  the  intellect  refuses  to  ap- 

1  Noct.  Att.  xx.  5.     See  p.  127. 

2  See,  for  instance,  the  contempt  with  which  he  speaks  of  the  sophistical  prin- 
ciple — the  one  on  which  Isocrates  taught  rhetoric.     Khetoric.  i.  init. 

3  "  Sapientis  hanc  censet  Arcesilas  vim  esse  maximam,  Zenoni  assentiens,  cavere 
ne  capiatur;  ne  fallatur,  videre."     (Cicero,  Academ.  prior,  ii.  21.)     Who  can  fail 
to  recognise  the  disputatious  habit  of  mind  which  gave  birth  to  this  principle  ? 
Compare  sec.  21.      "Si  ulli  rei  sapiens  assentietur  unquam,  aliquando   etiam 
opinabitur :  nunquam  autem  opinabltur ;  nulli  igitur  rei  assentietur." 


ARISTOTLE.  131 

prehend  what  is  not  clear  and  distinct.  Hence  a  continual  tendency 
to  stretch  nature  on  the  Procrustes-bed  of  logical  definition,  where, 
with  more  or  less  gentle  truncation  or  extension,  a  plausible  theory 
will  be  formed.  If  one  weak  point  after  another  be  discovered  in  this, 
a  new  bulwark  of  hypothesis  will  be  thrown  up  to  protect  it,  and  at 
last  the  fort  be  made  impregnable, — but,  alas  !  in  the  meantime  it  has 
become  a  castle  in  the  air.  Should,  however,  the  genius  of  the  dis- 
putant lie  less  in  the  power  of  distinguishing  and  refining,  than  in  that 
of  presenting  his  views  in  a  broad  and  striking  manner,  should  his 
fancy  be  rich  and  his  feelings  strong, — above  all,  should  he  be  one  of 
a  nation  where  eloquence  is  at  once  the  most  common  gift  and  the 
most  envied  attainment, — he  will  call  in  rhetoric  to  the  aid  of  his 
cause ;  and,  in  this  event,  as  the  accessory  gradually  encroaches  and 
elbows  out  that  interest  in  whose  aid  it  was  originally  introduced, — 
as  the  handling  of  the  question  becomes  more  important,  and  the 
question  itself  less  so, — there  will  result,  not,  as  in  the  former  case,  a 
scholastic  philosophy,  but  an  arena  for  closet  orators,  who  will1  abandon 
the  systematic  study  of  philosophy,  and  varnish  up  declamations  on  sel 
subjects.  Such  results,  doubtless,  did  not  follow  in  the  time  of  Aristotle 
and  Xenocrates.  Under  them,  unquestionably,  the  original  purpose 
of  this  discipline  was  kept  steadily  in  sight ;  and  it  was  not  suffered 
to  pass  from  being  the  test  of  clear  and  systematic  thought  to  a  mere 
substitute  for  it.  But  the  transition  must  have  been  to  a  considerable 
extent  effected  when  an  Arcesilaus  or  a  Carneades  could  deliver  formal 
dissertations  in  opposition  to  any  question  indifferently,  and  when 
Cicero  could  regard  the  rhetorical  practice  as  co-ordinate  in  import- 
ance with  the  other  advantages  resulting  to  the  student.2  In  the  very  Beason  of 
excellence  and  reputation  then  of  this  peculiar  discipline  of  the  founder  n^racygofth 
of  the  Peripatetic  school,  we  have  a  germ  adequate  to  produce  a  rapid  later  Peripa- 
decay  of  his  philosophy,  and  we  have  no  occasion  to  look  either  to  tetlcs' 
external  accidents  or  to  the  internal  nature  of  his  doctrines  for  a  reason 
of  the  degeneracy  of  the  Peripatetics  after  Theophrastus.  The  im- 
portance of  this  remark  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel. 

It  was  probably  in  the  course  of  this  sojourn  at  Athens,  which  Aristotle's 
lasted  for  the  space  of  thirteen  years,  that  the  greater  number  of  Aris- 
totle's  works  were  produced.  His  external  circumstances  were  at  this 
time  most  favourable.  The  Macedonian  party  was  the  prevalent  one 
at  Athens,  so  that  he  needed  be  under  no  fears  for  his  personal  quiet ; 
and  the  countenance  and  assistance  he  received  from  Alexander  enabled 
him  to  prosecute  his  investigations  without  any  interruption  from  the 
scantiness  of  pecuniary  means.  The  conqueror  is  said  in  Athenasus  to 

1  /xrjSej/  exeij/  tyiXoffoQe'iv  Trpayfji.aTiKws,  a\\a  Oeffeis  XfiKvQi^iv. — Strabo,  xiii. 
p.  124. 

2  See  the  passage  cited  above,  p.  129,  note  *.     Compare  also  Acad.  Prior,  ii.  18. 
"  Quis  enim  ista  tarn  aperte  perspicueque  et  perversa  et  falsa  secutus  esset,  nisi 
tanta  in  Arcesila,   multo  etiam  major  in  Carneade,  et  copia  rerum,  et  dicendi  vis 
fuisset."     Yet  the  eloquent  Arcesilaus  and  Carneades  left  nothing  behind  them 
written.— Plutarch,  De  Fort.  Alex.  p.  323,  ed  Paris. 

K2 


132 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Aristotle 
retires  to 
Chalcis  in 
Euboea. 
B.  c.  322. 


have  presented  his  master  with  the  sum  of  eight  hundred  talents  (about 
two  hundred  thousand  pounds  sterling)  towards  the  expenses  of  his 
*  History  of  Animals,"  and  enormous  as  this  sum  is,  it  is  only  in  pro- 
portion to  the  accounts  we  have  of  the  vast  wealth  acquired  by  the 
plunder  of  the  Persian  treasures.8  Pliny  also  relates  that  some  thou- 
sands of  men  were  placed  at  his  disposal  for  the  purpose  of  procuring 
zoological  specimens,  which  served  as  materials  for  this  celebrated 
treatise.  The  undertaking,  he  says,  originated  in  the  express  desire  of 
Alexander,  who  took  a  singular  interest  in  the  study  of  natural 
history.3  For  this  particular  object,  indeed,  he  is  said  to  have  received 
a  considerable  sum  from  Philip,  so  that  we  must  probably  regard  the 
assistance  afforded  him  by  Alexander  (no  doubt  after  conquest  had 
enlarged  his  means)  as  having  effected  the  extension  and  completion 
of  a  work  begun  at  an  earlier  period,  previous  to  his  second  visit  to 
Athens.4  Independently,  too,  of  this  princely  liberality,  the  profits  of 
his  occupation  may  have  been  very  great,5  and  we  have  before  seen 
reason  to  suppose  that  his  private  fortune  was  not  inconsiderable.  It 
is  likely,  therefore,  that  not  only  all  the  means  and  appliances  of  know- 
ledge, but  the  luxuries  and  refinements  of  private  life,  were  within  his 
reach,  and  having  as  little  of  the  cynic  as  of  the  sensualist  in  his 
character,  there  is  every  probability  that  he  availed  himself  of  them. 
Indeed,  the  charges  of  luxury  which  his  enemies  brought  against  him 
after  his  death,  absurd  as  they  are  in  the  form  in  which  they  were  put, 
appear  to  indicate  a  man  that  could  enjoy  riches  when  possessing  them, 
as  well  as  in  case  of  necessity  he  could  endure  poverty. 

But  fortune,  proverbially  inconstant,  was  even  more  fickle  in  the 
days  of  Aristotle  than  our  own.  At  an  earlier  period  of  his  life,  we 
have  seen  the  virulence  of  political  partizanship  rendering  it  desirable 
for  him  to  quit  Athens.  The  same  spirit  it  was  which  again,  in  his 
old  age,  forced  him  to  seek  refuge  in  a  less  agreeable  but  safer  spot. 
The  death  of  Alexander  had  infused  new  courage  into  the  anti-Mace- 
donian party  at  Athens,  and  a  persecution  of  such  as  entertained  con- 
trary views  naturally  followed.  Against  Aristotle,  the  intimate  friend 
and  correspondent  of  Antipater  (whom  Alexander  on  leaving  Greece 
had  left  regent),  a  prosecution  was  either  instituted  or  threatened  for 
an  alleged  offence  against  religion.6  The  flimsiness  of  this  pretext  for 

Athenseus,  p.  338,  e. 

See  the  authorities  on  this  subject  collected  by  Ste.  Croix.  Examen  Historique, 
pp  428—430. 

"  Hist.  Nat.  viii.  17. 

-Elian,  Var.  Hist.  iv.  19. 

See  the  beginning  of  the  Hippias  Major  of  Plato  for  the  profits  of  the  sophists, 
which  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  were  greater  than  those  of  their  more  respect- 
able successors.  Hippias  professes  to  have  made,  during  a  short  circuit  in  Sicily, 
more  than  six  hundred  pounds,  although  the  celebrated  Protagoras  was  there  as  a 
competitor  (sec.  5).  Hyperbolus's  instructions  in  oratory  cost  him  a  talent,  or  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  (Aristoph.  Nub.  874.)  But  there  is  no  means  of  de- 
ciding whether  Aristotle's  teaching  was  or  was  not  gratuitous. 

6  Phavorinus,  ap.Diog.  Laert.  Vit.  sec.  5;  ^Elian,  Var.  Hist.  iii.  36;  Athenseus, 


ARISTOTLE.  1 33 

crashing  a  political  opponent — or  rather  a  wise  and  inoffensive  man, 
whose  very  impartiality  was  a  tacit  censure  of  the  violent  party  spirit 
of  his  time — will  appear  at  first  sight  of  the  particulars  of  the  charge. 
Eurymedon  the  hierophant,  assisted  by  Demophilus,  accused  him  of  the  Frivolously 
blasphemy  of  paying  divine  honours  to  mortals.  He  had  composed,  it  fmpTety.0* 
was  said,  a  paean  and  offered  sacrifices  to  his  father-in-law  Hermias,  and 
also  honoured  the  memory  of  his  deceased  wife  Pythias  with  libations 
such  as  were  used  in  the  worship  of  Ceres.  This  pcean  is  the  Scolium 
'Ap£ra  TroXvfj-o^f)^  &c.,  which  we  have  described  above  (p.  118),  and 
although  we  cannot  tell  what  the  circumstance  was  which  gave  rise 
to  the  latter  half  of  the  charge,  we  may  reasonably  presume  that  it  as 
little  justified  the  interpretation  given  to  it  as  the  ode  does.  That 
ignorance  and  bigotry,  stimulated  by  party  hatred,  should  find  matter 
in-  his  writings  to  confirm  a  charge  of  impiety  founded  on  such  a  basis 
was  to  be  expected  ;  and  he  is  related  to  have  said  to  his  friends,  in 
allusion  to  the  fate  of  Socrates,  "  Let  us  leave  Athens,  and  not  give 
the  Athenians  a  second  opportunity  of  committing  sacrilege  against 
philosophy."  He  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the  character  of  "  the 
many-headed  monster  "  to  consider  the  absurdity  of  a  charge  as  a  suffi- 
cient guarantee  for  security  under  such  circumstances,  and  he  retired 
with  his  property  to  Chalcis  in  Eubcea,1  where  at  that  time  Mace- 
docian  influence  prevailed.  In  a  letter  to  Antipater  he  expresses  his 
regret  at  leaving  his  old  haunts ;  but  applies  a  verse  from  Homer  in  a 
way  to  intimate  that  the  disposition  that  prevailed  there  to  vexatious 
and  malignant  calumnies  was  incorrigible.2  It  is  not  improbable  that 
his  new  asylum  had  before  this  time  afforded  him  an  occasional  retreat 
from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  Athens.3  Now,  however,  he  owed  to  it 
a  greater  obligation.  He  was  out  of  the  reach  of  his  enemies,  and 
enabled  to  justify  himself  in  the  opinion  of  all  whose  judgment  was 
valuable  by  a  written  defence  of  his  conduct,4  and  an  exposure  of  the 
absurdities  which  the  accusation  involved.  "  Was  it  likely,"  he  asks,  Hisjlefence. 
"  that  if  he  had  contemplated  Hermias  in  the  light  of  a  deity,  he  should 
have  set  up  a  cenotaph  to  his  memory  as  to  that  of  a  dead  man  ? 
Were  funeral  rites  a  natural  step  to  apotheosis  ?"  Arguments  like 

p.  696;  Origen,  c.  Celsum,  i.  p.  51,  ed.  Spencer;  Dernochares,  cited  by  Aristocles 
(ap.  Euseb.  Prasp.  Ev.  xv.  2). 

1  Apollodorus,  ap.  Diog.  Vit.  sec.  10.     Lycon,  the  Pythagorean,  cited  by  Aris- 
tocles (ap.  Euseb.  Pra&p.  Ev.  xv.  2),  grounds  a  charge  of  luxury  on  the  number  of 
culinary  utensils  which  were  passed  at  the  custom-house  in  Chalcis. 

2  Pseudo-Ammon;   ^Elian,  Var.  Hist.  iii.  36   (compare  xii.    52);    Phavorinus 
(ap.  Diog.  Vit.  sec.  9). 

3  Diog.  Vit.  Epicuri,  sec.  1 ;  Strabo,  x.  p.  325,  ed.  Tauchnitz. 

4  Athenaeus  (p.  697)  quotes  a  passage  from  this  work,  to  which  he  gives  the  title 
of  ouroXoyia  atrejSeias,  but  at  the  same  time  mentions  a  suspicion  that  it  was  not 
genuine.     It  might  very  well  be  written  by  one  of  his  scholars  in  his  name,  and 
embody  his  sentiments,  just  as  the  Apology  of  Plato  does  those  of  Socrates.     This 
is  the  more  likely,  as  Aristotle  at  this  time  appears  to  have  been  in  a  very  weak 
state  of  health.     It  seems  to  be  identical  with  the  \6yos  StKovt/cbs  mentioned  by 
Phavorinus  (ap.  Diog.  Vit.  sec.  9),  and  to  be  so  called  because  written  in  that 
form,  although  probably  never  intended  to  be  recited  in  court. 


134  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

these,  reasonable  as  they  are,  were  not  likely  to  produce  much  effect 
upon  the  minds  of  his  enemies.  The  person  of  their  victim  was  beyond 
their  reach  ;  but  such  means  of  annoyance  as  still  remained  were  not 
neglected.  Some  mark  of  honour  at  Delphi,  probably  a  statue,  had 
been  on  a  former  occasion  (perhaps  the  embassy  alluded  to  above) 
insult  passed  decreed  him  by  a  vote  of  the  people.  This  vote  seems  to  have  been 
upon  him.  aj.  £njg  £jme  rescinded,  an  insult  the  more  mortifying,  if,  as  appears 
likely,  it  was  inflicted  on  the  pretext  that  he  had  acted  the  part  of  a 
spy  in  the  Macedonian  interest.1  In  a  letter  to  Antipater  he  speaks 
of  this  proceeding  in  a  tone  of  real  greatness,  perfectly  free  from  the 
least  affectation  of  indifference.  He  alleges  that  it  does  not  occasion 
him  great  uneasiness,  but  that  he  still  feels  hurt  by  it.2  It  is  impos- 
sible to  find  expressions  more  characteristic  of  an  unaffectedly  magna- 
nimous nature,  or  which  better  illustrate  the  description  of  that  dispo- 
sition given  by  himself  in  one  of  his  works.3 

Coolness  A  subject  which  it  is  likely  occasioned  him  during  the  latter  years 

towards  him  of  hjs  \{fe  far  greater  pain  than  anything  which  the  fickle  public 

on  the  part        *    "  i »»  .   i    .  '  i  ,° 

of  Alexander,  of  Athens  could  think  or  do,  was  the  coolness  which  had  arisen  be- 
tween himself  and  his  illustrious  pupil.  It  seems  to  have  been  closely 

Callisthenes.  connected  with  the  conduct  of  Callisthenes,  whom  we  have  mentioned 
above  (p.  126),  who  had  accompanied  Alexander  into  Asia  by  his 
particular  recommendation.  This  individual  possessed  a  cultivated 
mind,  a  vigorous  understanding,  and  a  bold  and  fearless  integrity,  com- 
bined with  a  strong  attachment  to  the  homely  virtues  and  energetic 
character  of  the  Macedonians,  and  a  corresponding  hatred  and  contempt 
for  the  Persian  manners  which  had  been  adopted  by  Alexander  after 
his  successes.  Unfortunately  no  less  for  those  whom  it  was  his  desire 
to  reform  than  for  himself,  the  sterling  qualities  of  his  mind  were 
obscured  by  a  singular  want  of  tact  and  discretion.4  He  had  no  talent 
for  seizing  the  proper  moment  to  tell  an  unwelcome  truth,  and  so  far 
from  being  able  to  sweeten  a  reproof  by  an  appearance  of  interest  and 
affection  for  the  party  reproved,  he  often  contrived  to  give  his  real  zeal 

Aristotle's      the  colouring  of  offended  vanity  or  personal  malice.     Aristotle  is  said 

advice  to  him  to  have  Dreaded  from  the  very  first  that  evil  would  follow  from  these 
defects  in  his  character,  and  to  have  advised  him  to  abstain  from  fre- 
quent interviews  with  the  king,  and  when  he  did  converse  with  him, 
to  be  careful  that  his  conversation  was  agreeable  and  goodhumoured.5 
He  probably  judged  that  the  character  and  conduct  of  Callisthenes 
would  of  itself  work  an  effect  with  a  generous  disposition  like  Alex- 

1  Demochares,  cited  by  Aristocles. — Euseb.  Prsep.  Ev.  xv.  2. 

2  jElian,  Var.  Hist.  xiv.  1.  o&rws  exco,  &s  /nr/re  poi  <r<}>6§pa  /u.t\eiv  virfp  O.VT&V, 
yu^re  fir?5ei>  /teAetj/.     Pausanias  (vi.  4,  8)  speaks  of  a  statue  at  Olympia  said  to  be 
his  :  but  it  had  no  name,  nor  was  it  known  who  had  placed  it  there. 

3  Nicom.  Ethic,  iv.  p.  1123,  col.  1,  line  34. 

4  Aristotle  himself  said  of  him,  on  hearing  of  his  behaviour  at  court,  that  he  was 
\6y<p  fjLfv  Svvarbs  Kal  /ueyos,  vovv  8'  OVK  eT^e;/. — Hermippus  ap.  Plutarch,  Vit. 
Alex.  sec.  54. 

5  Valerius  Max.  vii.  2. 


ARISTOTLE.  135 

ander's,  and  that  its  influence  could  not  be  increased,  and  would  in 
all  probability  be  much  diminished,  by  the  irritation  of  personal  dis- 
cussion, producing,  almost  of  necessity,  altercation  and  invective. 
Callisthenes,  however,  did  not  abide  by  the  instructions  of  his  master ; 
and,  perhaps,  the  ambition  of  martyrdom  contributed  almost  as  much 
as  the  love  of  truth  to  his  neglect  of  them.  The  description  of  Kent, 
which  Shakspeare  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Cornwall,1  would  certainly 
not  do  him  justice ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact 
that  he  made  it  "  his  occupation  to  be  plain."  Disgusted  at  the  cere- 
mony of  the  salaam,  and  the  other  oriental  customs,  which  in  the  eyes 
of  many  were  a  degradation  to  the  dignity  of  freeborn  Greeks,  he  did 
not  take  the  proper  course,  namely,  to  withdraw  himself  from  the 
royal  banquets,  and  thus  by  his  absence  enter  a  practical  protest 
against  their  adoption ;  but,  while  he  did  not  cease  to  attend  these, 
he  took  every  opportunity  of  testifying  his  disapprobation  of  what  he  HisJisiike  of 
saw,  and  his  contempt  of  the  favours  which  were  bestowed  on  such 
as  were  less  scrupulous  than  himself.  One  of  these,  who  appears  to 
have  particularly  excited  his  dislike,  was  the  sophist  Anaxarchus/an  un- 
principled flatterer,  who  vindicated  the  worst  actions  and  encouraged 
the  most  evil  tendencies  of  his  master  ;2  and  perhaps  a  jealousy  of  this 
miscreant,  and  an  unwillingness  to  leave  him  the  undivided  empire 
over  Alexander's  mind,  was  one  reason  which  prevented  him  from 
adopting  what  would  have  been  probably  the  most  effectual  as  well  as 
the  most  dignified  line  of  conduct.  Some  anecdotes  are  related  by 
Plutarch,  which  exhibit  in  a  very  striking  manner  both  the  mutual 
i This  js  some  feliOWj 

Who,  having  been  praised  for  bluntness,  doth  affect 

A  saucy  roughness,  and  constrains  the  garb 

Quite  from  his  nature :  He  cannot  flatter,  he ! 

An  honest  mind  and  plain ! — he  must  speak  truth : 

An  they  will  take  it,  so  :  if  not,  he's  plain. 

These  kind  of  knaves  I  know,  which  in  this  plainness 

Hai-bour  more  craft,  and  more  corrupter  ends, 

Than  twenty  silly  ducking  observants 

That  stretch  their  duties  nicely ! 

King  Lear,  act  ii.  sc.  2. 

2  When  Alexander,  after  having  slain  his  friend  Clitus  in  a  fit  of  drunken  passion, 
threw  himself  upon  the  earth,  overwhelmed  with  remorse,  deaf  to  the  solicitations 
of  his  friends,  and  obstinately  refusing  to  touch  food,  Callisthenes  and  Anaxarchus, 
the  philosophers  of  that  day  standing  in  the  place  of  the  priests  of  this,  were  sent 
to  offer  him  spiritual  consolation.  The  latter,  wise  in  his  generation,  determined 
to  sear  the  conscience  which  he  could  not  heal,  and  entered  the  tent  with  an  ex- 
pression of  indignation  and  surprise.  "What!"  he  cried,  "is  this  Alexander,  on 
whom  the  eyes  of  the  whole  world  are  bent  ?  Is  this  he  lying  weeping  like  a  slave, 
in  fear  of  the  reproaches  and  the  conventional  laws  of  men,  when  he  ought  to  be 
himself  the  law  and  the  standard  of  right  and  wrong  to  them  ? — Why  did  he  con- 
quer the  world  but  to  rule  and  command  it;  surely  not  to  be  in  bondage  to  it  and 
its  foolish  opinions  ?"  "  Dost  thou  not  know,"  he  continued,  addressing  the  un- 
happy prince,  "  that  Justice  and  Law  (At/ofy  ttal  ®4^iv)  are  represented  the  assessors 
of  Jupiter,  as  a  sign  to  all  that  whatever  the  mighty  do  is  lawful  and  just  ?" — 
Plutarch  Vit.  Alex.  sec.  52. 


136  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

hatred  of  the  philosophers  breaking  out  in  defiance  of  all  the  decencies 
of  a  court,  and  the  rude  bluntness  of  Callisthenes's  manners.  On  one 
occasion,  a  discussion  arose  at  supper-time,  as  to  the  comparative 
severity  of  the  winters  in  Macedonia  and  in  the  part  of  the  country 
where  they  then  were.  Anaxarchus,  in  opposition  to  his  rival,  strongly 
maintained  the  former  to  be  the  colder.  Callisthenes  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  of  a  sneer  at  his  enemy.  "  You,  at  least,"  said  he, 
"  should  hardly  be  of  that  opinion.  In  Greece  you  used  to  get  through 
the  cold  weather  in  a  scrubby  jacket  (iv  rpt'/jom) ;  here,  I  observe, 
that  you  cannot  sit  down  to  table  with  less  than  three  thick  mantles 
(^aTrtfe)  on  your  back."1  Anaxarchus,  whose  vulgar  ostentation  of 
the  wealth  which  his  low  servilities  had  procured  him  was  observed 
and  ridiculed  by  all,  could  not  turn  off  this  sarcasm ;  but  the  meanest 
animal  has  its  sting,  and  he  took  care  not  to  miss  any  opportunity  for 
lowering  the  credit  of  Callisthenes  with  Alexander,  a  task  which  the 
unfortunate  wrong-headedness2  of  the  other  rendered  only  too  easy. 
On  the  occasion  of  another  royal  banquet,  each  of  the  guests,  as  the 
cup  passed  round,  drank  to  the  monarch  from  it,  and  then,  after  per- 
forming the  salaam,  received  a  salute  from  him,- — a  ceremony  which 
was  considered  as  an  especial  mark  of  royal  favour.  Callisthenes, 
when  his  turn  arrived,  omitted  the  salaam,  but  advanced  towards 
Alexander,  who,  being  busy  in  conversation  with  Hepha?stion,  did  not 
observe  that  the  expected  act  of  homage  had  been  omitted.  A  courtier 
of  Anaxarchus's  party,  however,  Demetrius,  the  son  of  Pythonax, 
determined  that  their  enemy  should  not  benefit  by  this  casualty,  and 
accordingly  called  out,  "  Do  not  salute  that  fellow,  sire,  for  he  alone 
has  refused  to  salaam  you."  The  king,  on  hearing  this,  refused  Cal- 
listhenes the  customary  compliment ;  but  the  latter,  far  from  being 
mortified,  exclaimed  contemptuously  as  he  returned  to  his  seat,  "Very 
well,  then  I  am  a  kiss  the  poorer  !"3  Such  gratuitous  discourtesy  as 
this  could  hardly  fail  to  alienate  the  kindness  of  a  young  prince,  whose 
mere  taste  for  refinement — leaving  entirely  out  of  consideration  the 
intoxication  produced  by  unparalleled  success  and  the  flatteries  which 
His  popuia-  follow  it — must  have  been  revolted  by  it.*  It,  however,  gained  him 
Greek' party,  great  credit  with  the  Macedonian  party,  who  were  no  less  jealous  of 
the  favour  which  the  Persian  nobles  found  with  the  conqueror  than 
disgusted  with  the  adoption  of  the  Persian  customs.  He  was  con- 
sidered as  the  mouth-piece  of  the  body,  and  as  the  representative  and 
vindicator  of  that  manly  and  plain-speaking  spirit  of  liberty  which  they 

»  Plutarch,  Vit.  Alex.  sec.  52. 

2  <TKai6rr\s  and  vrepoicyos  ajSeArepto  are  terms  in  which  Arrian,  who  perfectly 
appreciates  the  manly  spirit  of  Callisthenes,  and  is  no  idolater  of  Alexander,  charac- 
terises his  manners. — De  Exped.  Alex.  iv.  c.  12. 

3  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  54;  Arrian,  iv.  12. 

4  "  Do  not  the  Greeks  seem  to  you,"  said  he,  on  the  occasion  of  Clitus's  out- 
rageous behaviour  to  two  of  his  friends,  "  compared  with  the  Macedonians,  like 
demigods  among  brute  beasts?" — Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  51. 


AKISTOTLE.  137 

regarded  as  their  birthright;1  and  the  satisfaction  which  his  vanity  re- 
ceived from  this  importance,  combined  with  a  despair  of  reconquering 
the  first  place  in  Alexander's  favour  from  the  hated  and  despised 
Anaxarchus,  probably  determined  him  to  relinquish  all  attempts  at 
pleasing  the  monarch,  and  to  adopt  a  line  which  might  annoy  and  in- 
jure himself,  but  could  hardly  benefit  any  one.  When  an  account  was 
brought  to  Aristotle  in  Greece  of  the  course  pursued  by  his  relation, 
his  sharpsightedness  led  him  at  once  to  divine  the  result.  In  a  line 
from  the  Iliad  : — 2 

Ah,  me !  such  words,  my  son,  bode  speedy  death  ! 

he  prophetically  hinted  the  fate  which  awaited  him.  Indeed  the 
latter  himself  appears  not  to  have  been  blind  to  the  ruin  preparing  for 
him ;  but  this  conviction  did  not  produce  any  alteration  in  his  conduct, 
or,  if  anything,  it  perhaps  induced  him  to  give  way  to  his  temper  even 
more  than  before.  At  another  banquet,  the  not  unusual  request  was 
made  to  him,  that  he  would  exhibit  his  talents  by  delivering  an  ex- 
temporaneous oration,  and  the  subject  chosen  was  a  panegyric  upon 
the  Macedonians.  He  complied,  and  performed  his  task  so  well  as  His  indis- 
to  excite  universal  admiration  and  enthusiastic  applause  on  the  part  of  cretion- 
the  guests.  This  circumstance  appears  to  have  nettled  Alexander, 
whose  affection  for  his  old  fellow-pupil  had  probably  quite  vanished, 
and  he  remarked  in  disparagement  of  the  feat,  in  a  quotation  from 
Euripides,  that  on  such  a  subject  it  was  no  great  matter  to  be  eloquent. 
"  If  Callisthenes  wished  really  to  give  a  proof  of  his  abilities,"  said 
he,  "  let  him  take  up  the  other  side  of  the  question,  and  try  what  he 
can  do  in  an  invective  against  the  Macedonians,  that  they  may  learn 
their  faults  and  reform  them."  The  orator  did  not  decline  the 
challenge : — his  mettle  was  roused,  and  he  surpassed  his  former  per- 
formance. The  Macedonian  nation  was  held  up  to  utter  scorn,  and 
especial  contempt  heaped  upon  the  warlike  exploits  and  consummate 
diplomacy  of  Alexander's  father  Philip.  His  successes  were  attributed 
to  accident  or  low  intrigue  availing  itself  of  the  dissensions  which 
existed  at  that  time  in  Greece ;  and  the  whole  was  wound'up  by  the 
Homeric  line — 

€V  Se  Si^oo'TOO'iT/  Kal  6  TrdyicaKOS  e\.\ax*  TifJ.'ns. 
When  civil  broils  prevail,  the  vilest  soar  to  fame  ! 

The  effect  of  this  course  was  such  as  might  have  been  expected. 
Alexander  fell  into  a  furious  passion,  telling  the  performer,  what  was 
not  far  from  the  truth,  that  his  speech  was  an  evidence  not  of  skill, 
but  of  malevolence ;  and  the  latter,  perhaps  conscious  that  he  had  now 
struck  a  blow  which  would  never  be  forgiven,  left  the  room,  repeat- 
ing as  he  went  out  a  verse  from  the  Iliad,  which  seems  to  be  an 
allusion  to  the  death  of  Clitus,  and  an  intimation  that  he  expected  to 
be  made  the  second  victim  to  his  sovereign's  temper.3 

1  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  53 ;  Arrian,  iv.  12. 

2  UKV/JLOPOS  Srj  fj.oi,  re/cos,  effcreai,  of  ayopeveis. — Diog.  Laert.  Vit.  sec.  5. 

3  KarQave  Kal  TldrpoicXos,  oirep  ffeo  iro\\bv  upsivav . — Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  54. 


138  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

His  ruin.  A  victim  he  was  destined  to  be,  although  not  in  the  way  in  which 

he  appears  to  have  expected.  A  practice  had  been  introduced  by 
Philip,  similar  to  that  which  prevailed  in  the  courts  of  the  feudal 
sovereigns  in  the  Middle  Ages,  that  the  sons  of  the  principal  nobles 
should  be  brought  up  at  court  in  attendance  on  the  person  of  the 
Conspiracy  king.  Of  these  pages,  esquires,  or  grooms  of  the  bedchamber  (for 
of  the  pages.  ^^  Qf^ce  appears  to  have  included  all  these  duties1),  who  attended 
Hermolaus  a  On  Alexander,  there  was  one  named  Hermolaus,  a  youth  of  high 
Caiiisthenes.  spirit  and  generous  disposition,  who  was  much  attached  to  Callisthenes, 
and  took  great  pleasure  in  his  society  and  conversation.  The  phi- 
losopher appears  to  have  considered  his  mind  as  a  fit  depository  for 
the  manly  principles  of  Grecian  liberty,  which  the  tenets  of  Anax- 
archus  and  the  corrupt  example  of  the  monarch  threatened  utterly  to 
extinguish,  and,  in  the  inculcation  of  these,  to  have  made  use  of  lan- 
guage and  of  illustrations,  which,  considering  the  circumstances  of 
the  case,  were  certainly  dangerous,  although  in  reference  to  the  then 
prevailing  tone  of  morality  we  shall  scarcely  be  justified  in  censuring 
them.  Harmodius  and  Aristogiton  having,  with  the  sacrifice  of 
their  own  lives,  been  fortunate  enough  to  bring  about  the  freedom  of 
their  country,  had  been  canonized  as  political  saints,  and  were  held 
up  to  all  the  youth  of  the  free  states  of  Greece  for  admiration  and 
imitation ;  and  Callisthenes  can  hardly  deserve  especial  blame  for 
participating  in  this  general  idolatry,  or  for  regarding  the  glory  of  a 
tyrannicide  as  surpassing  that  of  a  tyrant,  however  brilliant  the  fortunes 
of  the  latter  might  be.  Neither  can  we  at  all  wonder  that  he  should 
delight  in  depreciating  the  "  pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance"  of  great- 
ness in  comparison  with  dignity  of  character  and  manly  energy,  and 
in  exposing  the  impotence  of  externals  to  avert  any  of  "  the  ills  to 
which  flesh  is  heir."  Such  topics  have  been  in  all  ages,  and  ever  will 
be,  the  staple  both  of  philosophy  and  of  the  sciolism  which  is  its 
counterfeit;  and  the  necessity  for  dwelling  upon  them  must  to  Callis- 
thenes have  appeared  the  greater  in  order  to  counterbalance  the  habits 
of  feeling  which  Persian  manners  and  sophistry  like  that  of  Anax- 
archus  were  calculated  to  spread  among  the  Macedonian  youth.  He 
is  said  indeed  to  have  continually  professed  that  the  only  motive 
which  induced  him  to  accompany  Alexander  into  Asia  was  that  he 
might  be  the  means  of  restoring  his  countrymen  to  their  fatherland, 
as  true  Greeks  as  they  went  out,  uncorrupted  by  the  manners  or  the 
luxury  of  the  barbarians;2  and  he  seems  unquestionably  to  have 
succeeded  in  putting  a  stop,  at  least  for  a  time,  to  the  ceremony  of 
the  salaam,  of  all  eastern  customs  the  most  galling  to  Macedonian 
pride.3  In  an  evil  day,  however,  to  Callisthenes,  it  happened  that 
Hermolaus  was  out  boar-hunting  with  Alexander,  when  the  animal 

1  Arrian,  iv.  c.  23. 

2  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  53. 

3  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  54.     Compare  Arrian,  iv.  14,  where  Hermolaus  is  said  to 
have  complained  of  rV  irpofficvvrjo-u/  r^v  $ov\t]Q*'iffa.v  /ecu  ofara> 


AEISTOTLE.  139 

charged  directly  towards  the  king.  The  page,  influenced  probably 
more  by  the  ardour  of  the  chase,  and  his  own  youthful  spirits,  than 
by  any  just  apprehension  for  his  sovereign's  safety,  struck  the  creature 
a  mortal  wound  before  it  came  up  to  him.  Alexander,  the  keenest  of 
huntsmen,  balked  of  his  expected  sport,  in  the  passion  of  the  moment, 
ordered  Hermolaus  to  be  flogged  in  the  presence  of  his  brother  pages,  insulted  by 
and  deprived  him  of  his  horse  (apparently  the  sign  of  summarily  A1exander. 
degrading  him  from  his  employment).  Such  an  insult  to  a  Greek 
could  only  be  washed  out  in  the  blood  of  the  aggressor,  and  Her- 
molaus found  ready  sympathy  among  his  compeers.  It  was  agreed 
among  them  to  assassinate  Alexander  while  asleep,  and  the  execution  Plots  his 
of  the  design  was  fixed  for  a  night  on  which  Antipater,  the  son  of death- 
Asclepiodorus  (whom  Alexander  had  made  lord-lieutenant  of  Syria), 
was  to  be  the  groom  in  waiting.  It  so  happened  that  on  that  night 
Alexander  did  not  retire  to  bed  at  all,  but  sat  at  table  carousing  until 
the  very  morning;  whether  by  accident,  or  in  consequence  of  the 
advice  of  a  Syrian  female,  to  whom  in  the  character  of  a  soothsayer 
he  paid  great  respect,  is  not  agreed  by  the  contemporary  historians. 
But  this  circumstance,  whatever  was  the  cause  of  it,  saved  the  king 
and  led  to  the  detection  of  the  plot.  The  next  day,  Epimenes,  one 
of  the  conspirators,  mentioned  the  matter  to  an  individual  who  was 
strongly  attached  to  him.  This  person  spoke  of  it  to  Eurylochus, 
the  brother  of  Epimenes,  perhaps  considering  that  his  relationship 
was  a  sufficient  guarantee  for  secrecy.  Eurylochus,  however,  at  once 
laid  an  information  before  Ptolemy  Lagides,  subsequently  the  first  of 
the  Greek  dynasty  in  Egypt,  and  then  one  of  the  guard  of  honour  in 
attendance  on  Alexander.  He  reported  to  the  king  the  names  of  is  detected, 
those  who  he  had  been  told  were  concerned  in  the  affair :  they  were 
arrested,  and  on  being  put  to  the  torture  confessed  their  crime  and 
gave  up  the  names  of  others  who  were  participators.1  So  far  all 
accounts  agree  as  to  the  substantial  facts  of  this  story,  but  here  a  great 
discrepancy  commences.  Ptolemy  and  Aristobulus2  both  asserted  inculpation 
that  the  pages  named  Callisthenes  as  the  instigator  of  their  design.  J^SS1*" 
This,  however,  was  denied^  by  the  majority  of  contemporary  writers 
on  the  subject,  who  related  that  the  ill-will  towards  Callisthenes  pre- 
viously existing  in  the  mind  of  Alexander,  united  with  the  intimacy 
between  Hermolaus  and  the  former,  furnished  ample  means  to  his 

1  Arrian,  iv.  13,  14. 

2  Aristobulus  was  one  of  Alexander's  generals,  and  wrote  an  account  of  his  cam- 
paigns.    He  did  not,  however,  commence  this  work  till  his  eighty-fourth  year 
(Lucian,  De  Macrob.),  long  enough,  therefore,  after  the  transaction  in  question,  to 
allow  us  to  suppose  that  by  a  slip  of  the  memory  he  may  have  confused  circum- 
stantial with  direct  evidence.     Moreover,  as  there  was  nothing  which  made  Alex- 
ander so  unpopular  as  the  execution  of  Callisthenes  (Quintus  Curtius,  De  rebus 
gestis  Alex.  viii.  c.  3),  so  there  was  nothing  which  his  biographers  took  so  much 
pains  to  extenuate.     See  Ste.  Croix,  p.  360,  et  seq. ;  Arrian  (iv.  14,/n.),  at  the 
same  time  that  he  speaks  of  the  opportunities  of  knowledge  possessed  by  Ptolemy 
and  Aristobulus,  and  of  their  general  fidelity,  yet  remarks  that  their  accounts  of  the 
details  of  this  affair  differ  from  one  another. 


140  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

enemies  to  raise  a  strong  suspicion  against  him.1  They  alleged,  that 
to  a  question  from  Herrnolaus,  "  How  a  man  might  make  himself 
the  most  illustrious  of  his  species?"  he  replied,  "  By  slaying  him 
that  is  most  illustrious ;"  and  that  to  incite  the  youth  to  the  rash  act 
he  bade  him  "  not  be  in  awe  cof  the  couch  of  gold,  but  remember 
that  such  a  one  often  holds  a  sick  or  a  wounded  man ;"  also,  that 
when  Philotas  had  asked  him  whom  the  Athenians  honoured  most  of 
all  men,  he  replied,  '*  Harmodius  and  Aristogiton,  the  tyrannicides ;" 
and  when  the  querist  expressed  a  doubt  whether  such  a  person  would 
at  the  existing  time  find  countenance  and  protection  anywhere  in 
Greece,  he  replied,  "  That  if  every  other  city  shut  its  gates  against 
him,  he  would  certainly  find  a  refuge  in  Athens ;"  and  in  support  of  this 
opinion  quoted  the  instance  of  the  Heraclidse  who  there  found  protec- 
tion against  the  tyrant  Enrystheus.2  It  requires  but  little  penetration 
to  see  how,  under  circumstances  of  such  peculiar  irritation,  the  words 
of  Callisthenes  might,  with  very  little  violence  and  with  the  greatest 
plausibility,  be  interpreted  in  a  treasonable  sense,  although  they  were 
nothing  more  than  Macedonian  principles  expressed  in  a  strong  and 
antithetical  manner.  Indeed,  the  very  admixture  of  legendary  history 
in  the  instance  of  the  sons  of  Hercules  seems  to  betray  the  common- 
places of  the  rhetorician.  And  that  this  account  of  the  matter,  to 
which  Arrian,  following  the  majority  of  contemporary  accounts, 
inclines,  is  the  true  one,  seems  proved  beyond  all  doubt  by  two  letters 
of  Alexander  himself,  which  are  cited  by  Plutarch.  In  the  former  of 
these,  written  immediately  after  the  event  to  his  general,  Craterus,  he 
states,  "  that  the  pages  on  being  put  to  the  torture  confessed  their 
own  treason,  but  denied  that  any  one  else  was  privy  to  the  attempt." 
He  wrote  to  Attains  and  Alcetas  to  the  same  effect.  But  afterwards 
in  a  letter  to  Antipater,  he  says,  "  the  pages  have  been  stoned  to 
Inculpation  death  by  the  Macedonians ;  but  as  for  the  sophist,  I  intend  to  punish 
of  Amtotle.  j^^  an(j  faose  too  W}1O  sen^  h[m  ou^  an(j  a}so  the  cities  which  harbour 

conspirators  against  me."  In  the  latter  part  of  this  phrase,  according 
to  Plutarch,  he  alludes  to  Aristotle,  as  being  the  great-uncle  of  Callis- 
thenes, and  him  by  whose  advice  he  had  joined  the  court.  It  seems  plain 
that  in  the  interval  between  the  writing  of  these  letters,  Alexander's 
mind  had  been  worked  upon  by  those  whose  interest  it  was  to  identify 
the  cause  of  manliness  and  virtue  with  that  of  disloyalty  and  treason, 
by  Anaxarchus  and  the  crew  of  court  sycophants  whose  practice  he 
sanctioned  by  his  example,  and  attempted  to  justify  by  his  philosophy. 
The  tide  of  hatred,  however,  was  setting  too  strong  against  Callisthenes 
for  him  to  stem  it.  He  was  placed  under  confinement,  and  according 
to  accounts,  which  there  is  too  much  reason  to  fear  are  true,  cruelly 
mutilated.  It  is  said  to  have  been  Alexander's  intention  to  bring 

1  Arrian,  loc.  cit. 

8  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  55 ;  Arrian,  iv.  10.  This  Philotas  is  not  the  son  of  Par- 
menio,  put  to  death,  together  with  his  father,  on  a  former  occasion,  but  a  page,  the 
son  of  Cards,  a  Thracian.  See  Arrian,  iv.  13. 


ARISTOTLE.  141 

him  to  a  trial  in  the  presence  of  Aristotle  on  his  return  to  G  reece ;  but 
the  unfortunate  man,  after  remaining  in  his  deplorable  situation  for  a 
considerable  time,  died  from  the  effects  of  ill-treatment. 

Whatever  prejudices  against  his  old  master  may  have  been  raised  in  ineffective 
the  mind  of  Alexander  on  the  score  of  Callisthenes,  and  whatever  ill  Jj*1^ the 
consequences  might  perhaps  have  followed  if  the  conqueror  had  lived  Alexander, 
to  revisit  Europe,  intoxicated  with  his  military  successes,  and  hardened 
bv  the  influence  of  those  flatterers  who,  after  Callisthenes's  death, 
reigned  supreme  at  court,  it  is  explicitly  stated  by  Plutarch,  that  while 
he  lived,  his  estrangement  never  led  him  to  injure  Aristotle  in  the 
slightest  degree.     Mortification,  therefore,  at  the  degeneracy  of  his 
pupil,  and  sorrow  at  the  loss  of  an  affection  in  which  he  doubtless  took 
both  pride  and  pleasure,  were  the  only  evils  which  the  latter  during 
his  remaining  days  had  to  endure.     But  a  few  years  after  the  death  of  Report 
both,  a  story  began  to  be  circulated  which  at  last  grew  into  a  form  in  ^J^0*6 
the  highest  degree  detrimental  to  his  character.     It  is  impossible  to  death  of 
doubt  that  Alexander  died  from  the  fever  of  the  country,  caught  im-  both » 
mediately  after  indulgence  in  the  most  extravagant  excesses.     At  the 
time  no  suspicion  to  the  contrary  was  entertained.1     But  some  time 
afterwards,  the  ambitious  and  intriguing  Olympias,  who  had  long  in- 
dulged a  bitter  hostility  towards  Antipater  (a  hostility  which  the  suc- 
cessful establishment  of  the  latter  in  the  government  of  Macedonia  after 
her  son's  death  had  inflamed  into  a  fiendish  hatred),  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity which  Alexander's  rapid  illness  afforded,  to  throw  the  suspicion 
of  poisoning  him  upon  her  enemy,  whose  younger  son  lolaus  had  been 
his  cupbearer.     It  was  not  till  the  sixth  year  after  the  fatal  event  that 
this  story  was  set  on  foot ;  and  it  seems  to  have  originated  in  nothing 
but  Olympias's  desire  of  vengeance,  which  then  first  found  a  favour- 
able vent.     The  bones  of  lolaus,  who  had  died  in  the  interim,  were 
torn  from   their  grave,  and  a  hundred  Macedonians,  selected  from 
among  the  most  distinguished   of  Antipater's   friends,  barbarously 
butchered.2     The  accusation  of  poisoning  the  king  seems  at  first  to  at  first  vague; 
have  been  vaguely  set  on  foot,   the  only  circumstantial  part  of  the 
story  being  the  point  necessary  to  justify  Olympias's  malignity,  namely 
— that  lolaus  was  the  agent  in  administering  the  poison.     But  in  afterwards 
process  of  time  the  minutest  details  of  the  transaction  were  supplied.  detailed- 
We  give  them  in  the  last  form  which  they  assumed.     The  fears  of 
Antipater,  it  was  said,  arising  from  the  growing  irritation  of  Alex- 
ander incessantly  stimulated  by  Olympias,  induced  him,  on  hearing 
that  he  was  superseded  by  Craterus  and  ordered  into  Asia  with  new 
levies,  to  plot  against  his  master's  life.     A  fit  means  for  this  purpose 
was  pointed  out  to  him  by  his  friend  Aristotle,  who  dreaded  the  per- 
sonal consequences  to  himself  which  seemed  likely  to  follow  from 
Alexander's  anger  against  Callisthenes.3    The  nature  of  this  is  quite  in 

1  Plutarch,  Vit.  sec.  77.  2  Diodorus,  xix.  11;  Plutarch,  foe.  cit. 

a  Although  Callisthenes  had  been  put  to  death  five  years  before,  *'.  e,  in  B.  c, 
328 !     See  Clinton,  Fast.  Hel.  ii.  p.  376. 


142  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

keeping  with  the  other  features  of  the  narrative.  It  was  no  other 
than  the  water  of  the  river  Styx,  which  fell  from  a  rock  near  the  town 
of  Nonacris  in  Arcadia,  and  which,  according  to  a  local  superstition 
which  is  not  extinct  to  this  day,1  possessed  not  only  the  property  of 
destroying  animal  life  by  its  cold  and  petrifying  qualities  (^v^pov  KCU 
Trayfrw^ec),  but  also  that  of  dissolving  the  hardest  metals,  and  even 
precious  stones.  One  substance  alone  was  proof  against  its  destructive 
influences  —  the  hoof  of  a  Scythian  ass  !  In  a  vessel  made  out  of  this, 
a  small  portion  of  the  fluid  was  conveyed  by  Cassander,  lolaus's  elder 
brother,  into  Asia,  and,  on  the  occasion  of  the  debauch  at  which  Alex- 
ander was  taken  ill,  administered  to  him  by  the  latter.  lolaus  was 
stimulated  to  the  act  by  the  desire  of  revenging  an  outrage  upon  him- 
self committed  by  the  king,  and  attachment  to  him  induced  Medius,  a 
Thessalian,  at  whose  palace  the  debauch  took  place,  to  be  an  accom- 
plice in  the  treason.  The  assassin,  according  to  the  author  of  the 
*  Lives  of  the  Ten  Orators,'  falsely  attributed  to  Plutarch,2  was  re- 
warded by  a  proposition  of  the  demagogue  Hyperides  at  Athens,  to 
confer  public  honours  upon  him  as  a  tyrannicide,  and  the  horn  cup  in 
which  the  fatal  draught  had  been  conveyed  from  Greece  deposited  in 
the  temple  of  Delphi.3 

its  refutation  The  absurdity  of  this  account  is  glaringly  manifest  to  readers  of  the 
present  day,  of  whom  nine  out  of  every  ten  are  probably  better  ac- 
quainted with  the  nature  and  operation  of  petrifying  springs  than  the 
best  informed  of  the  Greek  naturalists  were.  The  ancients  were  not 
in  possession  of  the  touchstone  for  the  discovery  of  falsehood  which 
modern  science  affords  ;  but  even  they  were  long  before  they  attached 
any  credence  to  the  calumny.  "  The  greater  part  of  the  writers  on 
the  subject,"  says  Plutarch,4  "  consider  the  whole  matter  of  the  alleged 
poisoning  a  mere  fiction  ;  and  in  confirmation  of  this  view  they  quote 
the  fact,  that  although  the  royal  remains  lay  for  several  days  unem- 
balmed  in  consequence  of  the  disputes  of  the  generals  —  and  that  too 
in  a  hot  and  close  place  —  they  exhibited  no  marks  of  corruption,  but 
remained  fresh  and  unchanged."  Arrian5  too,  who,  as  well  as  Plu- 
tarch, derives  his  account  of  the  king's  illness  and  death  from  the  court 
gazettes  (i^psplhg),  and  confirms  the  statements  of  these  by  the 


1  See  Col.  Leake's  Travels  in  the  Morea,  vol.  iii.  pp.  165-9.     The  natives  say 
that  the  water,  which  they  call  ra  Mavpa-vepia  (the  black  waters),  and  ra  Apaico- 
vepia  (the  terrible  waters),  is  unwholesome,  and  also  that  no  vessel  will  hold  it. 
It  is  a  slender  perennial  stream  falling  over  a  very  high  precipice,  and  entering  the 
rock  at  the  bottom,  which  is  said  to  be  inaccessible,  from  the  nature  of  the  ground. 
Col.  Leake  quotes  the  phrases  of  Homer,  Karfi^^vov  'Srvybs  vScap,  and  ^rvybs 
vSaros  a'ura  peeQpa,  as  exact  descriptions  of  it.     See  also  Herod,  vi.  74  ;  Hesiod, 
Theog.  785,  805. 

2  P.  849.     The  same  is  stated  by  Photius,  Biblioth.  p.  496. 

3  Epigr.  ap.  -(Elian,  De  Nat.  Animal,  x.  40.     That  it  should  have  been  deposited 
there,  as  the  Epigram  states,  by  Alexander  himself,  is  a  circumstance  which  will 
not  add  much,  in  the  opinion  of  modern  critics,  to  the  incredibility  of  the  story. 

4  Vit.  Alex.  ult.  5  vii.  27. 


ARISTOTLE.  143 

narratives  of  Ptolemy  and  Aristobulus,  says  of  the  charge  of  poison- 
ing, which  he  afterwards  mentions,  that  he  has  alluded  to  it  merely  to 
show  that  he  has  heard  of  it,  not  that  he  considers  it  to  deserve  any 
credit.  In  fact,  the  sole  source  of  the  story  in  its  details  appears  to 
have  been  one  Hagnothemis  (an  individual  of  whom  nothing  else  is 
known),  who  is  reported  to  have  said  that  he  had  heard  it  told  by  king 
Antigonns.1  But  its  piquancy  was  a  strong  recommendation  to  later 
writers ;  and  it  is  instructive  and  amusing  to  observe  how  their  state- 
ments of  it  increase  in  positiveness,  about  in  proportion  as  they  recede  Itsgradual 
from  the  time  in  which  the  facts  of  the  case  could  be  known.  Dio-  £rowth- 
dorus  Siculus  and  Vitruvius,  living  in  the  time  of  the  two  first  Ca3sars, 
merely  mention  the  rumour  that  Alexander's  death  was  occasioned  by 
poison  through  the  agency  of  Antipater,  but  do  not  pretend  to  assert 
its  credibility.  Quintus  Curtius,  writing  under  Vespasian,  considers 
the  authorities  on  that  side  to  preponderate.  The  epitomizer  of  a 
degenerate  age,  Justin,  flourishing  in  the  reign  of  Antoninus  Pius, 
slightly  alludes  to  the  intemperance  which  he  allows  had  been  as- 
signed as  the  cause  of  Alexander's  death,  but  adds  that,  in  fact,  he  died 
from  treason,  and  that  the  disgraceful  truth  was  suppressed  by  the  in- 
fluence of  his  successors.  And  finally  Orosius,  in  the  fifth  century, 
states  broadly  and  briefly  that  he  died  from  poison  administered  by  an 
attendant,  without  so  much  as  hinting  that  any  different  belief  had 
ever  even  partially  obtained.2  But  it  is  remarkable  that,  of  all  these 
writers,  not  one  mixes  up  Aristotle's  name  with  the  story ;  and  it  is 
probable  that  the  foolish  charge  against  him,  mentioned  (and  discoun- 
tenanced) by  Plutarch  and  Arrian,  fell  into  discredit  very  soon  after 
it  arose,  and  perhaps  was  only  remembered  as  a  curious  piece  of  scan- 
dalous history,  until  the  half-lunatic  Caracalla  thought  proper  to  revive 
it,  in  order  to  gratify  at  once  the  tyrant's  natural  hatred  for  wisdom  and 
virtue,  and  his  own  morbid  passion  for  idolizing  the  memory  of  Alex- 
ander. It  is  recorded  of  him  that  he  persecuted  the  Aristotelian  sect 
of  philosophers  with  singular  hatred,  abolishing  the  social  meetings  of 
their  body,  which  appear  to  have  taken  place  in  Alexandria,  confis- 
cating certain  funds  which  they  possessed,  and  even  entertaining  the 

1  Plutarch,  Vit.  Alex.  loc.  cit. 

2  Diodorus,  xvii.  117;    Vitruvius,  viii.  3;    Q.  Curtius,  x.  10;  Justin,  xii.  14; 
Orosius,  iii.   20.     It  is  possible  that  some  readers  may  quote  Tacitus  (Annal.  ii. 
73)   as  opposing  the  view  we  have  given  in  the  text  of  the  gradual  progression  of 
credulity.     But  the  exception  is  only  apparent.     Tacitus  does  not  give  his  own 
view,  but  merely  that  of  those  who  chose  to  draw  a  parallel  between  the  circum- 
stances of  Germanicus's  life  and  those  of  Alexander  ;  for  which  purpose  this  ver- 
sion of  the  death  of  the  latter  was  necessary,  and,  perhaps,  to  this  it  owed  much  of 
its  subsequent  popularity.     With  respect,  too,  to  the  silence  respecting  Aristotle, 
it  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  expressions  of  Pliny  ("  magn&  Aristotelis  infamia 
excogitatum,"  Hist.  Nat.  xxx.  M^.),  if  they  are  genuine,  do  not  imply  a  belief, 
either  on  his  own  part  or  that  of  people  in  general,  that  the  philosopher  was  guilty 
of  abetting  Antipater.     But  they  seem  more  likely  to  be  a  marginal  note,  implying 
that  "  the  story  of  the  poisoning  by  such  water  was  a  figment  that  had  done  Aris- 
totle's character  much  harm." 


144  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

design  of  destroying  their  master's  works,  on  no  other  ground  than  that 
Aristotle  was  thought  to  have  aided  Antipater  in  destroying  Alexander.1 
its  possible  To  attempt  to  account  for  the  origin  of  so  absurd  a  charge  as  that  . 
we  have  been  discussing  may  perhaps  appear  rash.  We  cannot,  how- 
ever, resist  the  temptation  to  hazard  a  conjecture  that  while  the  in- 
timacy of  Aristotle  with  Antipater  undoubtedly  furnished  a  favourable 
soil  for  the  growth  of  the  story,  the  actual  germ  of  it  is  to  be  looked 
for  at  Delphi.  The  cup  in  the  treasure-house  there,  which  the  epigram 
we  have  quoted  above  represents  as  presented  by  Alexander,  was  pro- 
bably of  onyx,  a  stone  of  which  the  coloured  layers,  resembling  as  they 
do  the  outer  coats  of  a  hoof,  procured  it  the  name  by  which  it  goes. 
Now,  it  is  obvious  that  in  the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking,  when  the 
merchant  who  sold  the  wares  was,  for  the  most  part,  himself  a  traveller 
in  distant  countries,  marvellous  tales  would  be  related  respecting  the 
strange  commodities  which  he  imported.  The  onyx  might  to  the  ad- 
miring Greek  be  represented  as  the  solid  hoof  of  some  strange  animal, 
with  no  less  plausibility  than  in  the  fourteenth  century  a  cocoa-nut 
could  be  sold  as  a  griffin's  egg — a  long  univalve  shell  represented  as 
the  horn  of  a  land  animal — or  the  ammonites  of  Malta  regarded  as 
serpents  changed  into  stone  by  St.  Paul.2  And  although  the  more 
extensive  communication  with  the  East,  which  commenced  after  Alex- 
ander's expedition,  would,  in  process  of  time,  spread  more  correct  views 
on  the  subject  of  natural  productions,  the  old  legends  would  linger  in 
the  temples,  handed  down  traditionally  by  the  attendants,  who  showed 
the  curiosities  to  strangers,  and  were  expected  to  be  provided  with  a 
story  for  every  relic.3  If  any  one  of  these  Ciceroni  (|£iyyjjrat),  aware  of 

1  Xiphilinus,  Epitom.  Dionis.  pp.  329,  330.    Caracalla  wore  arms  and  used  drink- 
ing cups  which  had  belonged  to  Alexander,  erected  a  great  number  of  statues  to 
him  both  in  Rome  and  at  the  several  military  stations,  and  raised  a  phalanx  of 
Macedonians,  armed  all  after  the  manner  of  five  centuries  back,  which  he  named 
after  the  Conqueror  of  the  East.     [In  his  wish  to  destroy  the  philosopher's  works 
(/cal  TO.  )3tj3Ata  avrov  KaTUKavffai  e0eA.7j(Tat)  he  had  the  precedent  of  Caligula,  who 
threatened  to  do  the  same  with  the  works  of  the  jurists  and  of  Livy,  and  in  the 
case  of  the  latter  carried  his  threat  out  to  a  considerable  extent. — Suetonius,  Vit. 
Calig.  34.]     See  also  Dio  Cassius.  Ixxvii.  7. 

2  Compare,  for  instance,  the  stories  related  by  Herodotus  (iii.  102-111)  of  the 
way  in  which  gold-dust  and  the  various  spices  brought  from  the  East  were  pro- 
cured.    The  account  which  he  gives  of  cinnamon  is  confirmed,  with  a  little  varia- 
tion in   the   details,   by  Aristotle,    Hist.   Anim.  ix.  13,  p.   616,  col.  1,  Bekk. 
Theophrastus  (Hist.  PI.  iv.  7,  8)  represents  various  corals  as  plants  growing  in  the 
Indian  Ocean.     The  Madrepora  muricata  is  termed  by  him  "  stone  thyme."    The 
informant  of  Herodotus  was  no  doubt  some  one  of  the  travelling  merchants  which 
came  by  the  caravans  to  Egypt. 

3  It  has  been  remarked  by  Heeren,  that  Herodotus's   account  of  the  history 
of  Egypt  is  derived  entirely  from  local  narrations  connected  with  public  monu- 
ments.    (Manual  of  Ancient  History,  pp.  52,  53,  Eng.  transl.)      This  remark 
admits  of  far  wider  application.     It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show  that  almost  all 
the  early  events  recorded  by  that  author  rest  on  the  same  basis.     For  instance,  the 
history  of  the  Lydian  kings  in  the  first  book  is  obviously  entirely  made  up  of 
stories  connected  with  offerings  in  the  temples  of  Apollo  at  Delphi  and  Miletus. 
This  is  plain  from  the  fact  that  every  narrative  at  all  circumstantial  of  any  of  these 


ARISTOTLE.  145 

the  intimate  friendship  which  subsisted  between  Aristotle  and  An- 
tipater,  and  also  of  the  rumour  that  Alexander  had  been  poisoned 
through  the  agency  of  the  latter,  had  either  chanced  to  stumble  him- 
self, or  to  be  directed  by  a  more  learned  visitor  to  a  passage  in  a  work 
of  Theophrastus  (Aristotle's  favourite  scholar  and  successor),  at  that 
time  extant,  which  stated  "  that  in  Arcadia  there  was  a  streamlet  of 
water  dropping  from  a  rock,  called  the  water  of  Styx,  which  those  who 
wished  for,  collected  by  means  of  sponges  fastened  to  the  end  of  poles; 
and  that  not  only  was  it  a  mortal  poison  to  whoever  drank  it,  but  it 
possessed  the  property  of  dissolving  all  vessels  into  which  it  was  put, 
except  they  were  of  horn^1  he  must  have  possessed  much  less  fancy, 
and  a  much  greater  regard  for  historical  accuracy  than  the  rest  of  his 
countrymen,  if  he  did  not,  when  the  next  pilgrim  visited  the  temple, 
add  at  least  a  conjecture  or  two  as  to  the  connexion  which  the  relic  in 
question  had  with  a  story  possessing  so  much  interest  to  all.  It  should 
not  be  forgotten,  in  reference  to  that  part  of  the  account  which  repre- 
sents Aristotle  as  the  discoverer  of  this  peculiar  property  of  the  "  Stygian 
water  " — that  Theophrastus  is  the  earliest  authority  for  its  possessing 
it,  and  that  if  Aristotle  had  been  aware  that  such  a  belief  existed,  we 
should  hardly  fail  to  find  it  in  the  book  Trepl  Qavpaaiujv  ajcoucr/jarwv, 
in  the  121st  chapter  of  which  there  is  an  account  of  a  pestilential 
fountain  in  Thrace,  the  water  of  which  was  said  to  be  clear  and  spark- 
ling, and  to  the  eye  like  any  other,  but  fatal  to  all  who  drank  of  it. 

We  must  now  return  from  the  discussion  of  the  imputed  share  of  Death  of 
Aristotle  in  the  death  of  his  illustrious  pupil,  to  the  narrative  of  his  Anstotle- 
own.     He  did  not  long  survive  his  departure  from  the  city  in  which 
he  had  spent  so  large  a  portion  of  his  life.     He  retired  to  Chalcis  in 
the  year  of  Cephisodorus's  archonship  (B.C.  323-322),  and  early  in 
that  of  his  successor  Philocles  died  (as  we  are  justified  by  Apollo- 
dorus's  authority  in  stating  positively2)  from  disease.     At  nearly  the 
same  time  the  greatest  orator  that  the  world  ever  saw,  the  leader  of 
that  party  whose  influence  had  expelled  Aristotle  from  Athens,  was 
driven  to  have  recourse  to  poison  to  escape  a  worse  fate.     There  are 
not  wanting  accounts  that  the  philosopher  also  met  a  violent  death. 
That  he  poisoned   himself  to  avoid    falling  into  the  hands  of  his  various 
accusers  is  the  view  of  Suidas  and  the  anonymous  author  of  his  Life.3  accounts- 

monarchs  terminated  with  a  reference  to  one  of  these  temples.  The  historians 
before  him,  with,  perhaps,  the  exception  of  Hellanicus,  made  use  even  of  the  topo- 
graphical form  of  composition. 

1  Theophrastus,  ap.  Antigonum  Carystium,  Hist.  Mirab.  sec.  174.     Pausanias, 
where  he  describes  the  water  and  its  singular  effects,  speaks  of  the  story  of  Alex- 
ander having  been  destroyed  by  it  as  one  which  he  had  heard,  but  not  as  if  it  had 
been  told  him  at  the  place.     Beckmann  (ap.  Antig.  Caryst.  loc,  cit.)  supposes  that 
a  part  of  the  legend  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  water  contained  a  volatile  acid  which 
exercised  a  corrosive  effect  upon  metallic  cups. 

2  Ap.  Diog.  Vit.  sec.  10,  and  Dionys.  Hal.  Ep.  Amm.  p.  728. 

3  They  appear  to  follow  one  Eumelus,  whom  Diogenes  (Vit.  Arist.  sec.  6)  cites 
and  contradicts.     He  related  that  Aristotle  died  by  drinking  hemlock,  at  the  age 
of  seventy,  and  had  become  a  pupil  of  Plato  at  that  of  thirty.     See  p.  104. 

[G.  R.  P.]  L 


146  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

But  independently  of  the  superior  authority  of  Apollodorus,  and  the 
evidence  which  Aristotle's  own  opinions,  expressed  in  more  than  one 
place,  on  the  subject  of  suicide,  afford,  in  contradiction  of  this  story, 
the  fact  of  Chalc.is  being  then  under  Macedonian  influence,  and,  conse- 
quently, a  perfectly  secure  refuge  for  any  one  persecuted  for  real  or 
.  supposed  participation  in  Macedonian  politics,  is  quite  enough  to 

induce  us  to  reject  this  story.  A  yet  more  absurd  one  is  repeated  by 
some  of  the  early  Christian  wiiters.  Mortification,  according  to  them, 
at  being  unable  to  discover  the  cause  of  the  Euripus  ebbing  and 
flowing  seven  times  every  day,  induced  him  to  throw  himself  headlong 
into  the  current.1  Of  this  story  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  more 
than  that  the  phenomenon  which  produced  such  fatal  consequences  to 
the  philosopher  does  not  really  exist.  The  stream  constantly  sets 
through  the  narrow  channel  between  Eubcea  and  the  mainland  from 
north  to  south,  except  when  winds  blowing  very  strongly  in  an  oppo- 
site direction  produce  for  a  time  the  appearance  of  a  current  from 
south  to  north.2  But  instead  of  wasting  time  upon  the  refutation  of 
these  foolish  accounts,  we  shall  perhaps  please  our  readers  better  by 
bringing  together  a  few  circumstances  which  appear  to  confirm  the 
statement  of  Apollodorus,  to  which  independently  of  them  we  should 
not  be  justified  in  refusing  belief. 

Confirmation  Aulus  Gellius3  relates  that  Aristotle's  scholars,  when  their  master 
doss's1  stlte-  kad  passed  his  sixty-second  year,  and  being  in  a  state  of  extremely 
xnent.  bad  health,  gave  them  but  little  hopes  that  he  would  survive  for  any 

length  of  time,  entreated  him  to  appoint  some  one  of  their  body  as  his 
successor,  to  keep  their  party  together  and  preserve  the  philosophical 
views  which  he  had  promulgated.  There  were  at  that  time,  says 
Gellius,  many  distinguished  men  among  his  disciples,  but  two  pre- 
eminently superior  to  the  rest.  Menedemus  (or,  as  some  suppose  it 
should  be  written,  Eudemus),  a  Rhodian,  and  Theophrastus,  a  native 
Aristotle's  of  Eresus,  a  town  in  the  island  of  Lesbos.  Aristotle,  perhaps  un- 
o?a  slTccestor  willing  that  his  last  moments  should  be  disturbed  by  the  heartburnings 
which  a  selection,  however  judicious,  might  produce,  contrived  to 
avoid  the  invidious  task,  and  at  the  same  time  to  convey  his  own  sen- 
timents on  the  subject.  He  replied,  that  at  the  proper  time  he  would 
satisfy  their  wishes ;  and  shortly  afterwards,  when  the  same  persons 
who  had  made  the  request  happened  to  be  present,  he  took  occasion 
to  complain  that  the  wine  which  he  usually  drank  did  not  agree  with 
him,  and  to  beg  that  they  would  look  out  for  some  sort  which  might 
suit  him  better — for  instance,  said  he,  some  Lesbian  or  Rhodian ;  two 

1  Pseudo  Justin  Martyr,  Parsenet.  ad  Grsecos,  p.  34.     Sta  TroAAV  afio^iav  /cat 
alffxvvnv  Au7T7j0eis,  /jLereffTfj  TOV  fttov.    Gregor.  Nazienz.  Orat.  i.  in  Julian,  p.  ¥23. 
Later  writers  go  so  far  as  to  put  various  sentiments  into  his  mouth  immediately 
before  the   perpetration  of  this  rash  act.     Elias  Cretensis  (Comm.  in  S.  Greg. 
Orat.  iv.)  attributes  to  him  the  words  "  Quoniam  Aristoteles  Euripum  non  cepit, 
Aristotelem  Euripus  habeat." 

2  Tanaquil  Faber,  Epp.  Critic,  i.  14. 
8  Noct.  Att.  xiii.  5. 


ARISTOTLE.  147 

wines  which,  as  is  notorious,  were  beyond  almost  any  others  cele- 
brated in  antiquity.  When  a  sample  of  each  had  been  brought  to 
him,  he  first  tasted  the  latter,  and  praised  it  for  its  soundness  and 
agreeable  flavour.  Then  trying  the  Lesbian,  he  seemed  for  a  time  to 
doubt  which  he  should  choose,  but  at  last  said,  "  Both  are  admirable 
wines,  but  the  Lesbian  is  the  pleasanter  of  the  two."  He  never  made 
any  further  allusion  to  the  matter  of  a  successor,  and  the  disciples 
universally  concluded  that  this  observation  relative  to  the  Rhodian 
and  Lesbian  vintages  was  meant  as  an  answer  to  their  question, 
Theophrastus  the  Lesbian  being  a  man  singularly  distinguished  for 
suavity  both  of  language  and  manners ;  and  accordingly,  on  the  death 
of  Aristotle,  they  unanimously  acknowledged  him  as  the  chosen 
successor.  That  this  anecdote  implies  the  belief  that  a  disease  of 
some  duration  was  the  cause  of  the  philosopher's  death  is  quite 
obvious ;  and  there  is  some  ground  for  supposing  that  this  disease 
was  an  affection  of  the  intestines,  from  which  he  had  long  suffered.  His  probable 
This  affection,  says  another  ancient  author,1  which  he  bore  with  the  °'°mp  ai 
greatest  fortitude,  was  of  such  a  nature  that  the  wonder  is  that  he 
contrived  to  prolong  his  life  to  the  extent  of  sixty-three  years,  not 
that  he  died  when  he  did.  For  complaints  of  this  kind  warm  foment- 
ations of  oil  applied  to  the  stomach  were  recommended  in  the  medical 
practice  of  antiquity.2  Now  Lycon  the  Pythagorean,3  a  bitter  calum- 
niator of  Aristotle,  grounded  a  charge  of  inordinate  luxury  against 
him  upon  the  assertion  that  he  indulged  himself  in  the  habit  of  taking 
baths  of  warm  oil :  an  assertion  which,  if  we  should  fail  at  once  to 
recognise  it  as  a  misrepresentation  of  the  medical  treatment  alluded 
to,  will  be  unequivocally  explained  by  the  more  accurate  description 
of  another  writer,4  who  obviously  alludes  to  the  same  circumstance. 

Diogenes  Laertius,  as  we  have  mentioned  in  an  earlier  part  of  this  His  will, 
essay,  speaks  of  having  seen  Aristotle's  will,  and  proceeds  to  give  the 
substance  of  it.5  That  this  is  not  an  abstract  of  the  authentic  docu- 
ment is  obvious  from  the  circumstance  that  no  mention  whatever  is 
made  in  it  of  his  literary  property,  which  was  very  considerable,  and 
which  we  know  from  other  sources  came  to  Theophrastus.6  Neither, 
however,  does  there  seem  to  us  any  well-grounded  suspicion  that  the 
account  of  Diogenes  is  either  a  forgery,  or  the  copy  of  a  forgery.  The 
whole  document  bears  the  stamp,  in  our  judgment,  of  a  codicil  to  a 
previously-existing  will,  drawn  up  at  a  time  when  the  testator  was 
dangerously  ill,  and  had  but  little  expectation  of  recovery.  Thus,  at 
the  very  commencement,  Antipater,  the  regent  of  Macedonia,  is 

1  Censorinus,  cited  above,  p.  6. 

2  Celsus,  ii.  17,  iii.  ult. 

8  Cited  by  Aristocles,  ap.  Euseb.  loc.  cit.  He  adds,  that  his  avarice  induced 
him  to  sell  the  oil  after  this  use  had  been  made  of  it. 

*  Diog.  Laert.  Vit.  sec.  16.  He  adds  to  Lycon's  account,  ej/tot  5e  /col  affitiov 
Qepfiov  eA.ai'ou  eiriTidei/ai  avrbv  T<£  ffrofj-d^cf, 

5  Vit.  Arist.  sec.  12—16. 

6  Strabo,  xiii.  p.  124. 

L2 


148  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

appointed  the  supreme  arbiter  and  referee,  and  four  other  persons 
besides  Theophrastus,  " if  he  be  willing  and  able"  are  directed  to 
administer,  until  Nicanor,  the  son  of  Proxenus— to  whom  he  gives 
his  orphan  daughter  in  marriage  and  the  guardianship  of  his  orphan 
son  Nicomachus,  together  with  the  whole  management  of  his  pro- 
perty— shall  take  possession  (2we  av  Kara\af3y).  Nicanor  was  appa- 
rently abroad  on  some  service  of  danger.  If  he  escapes,  he  is  directed 
by  the  codicil  to  erect  certain  statues  of  four  cubits  in  height  in  Sta- 
gira  to  Jupiter  and  Athene  the  Preservers  (Aa  Zwrf/pt  Kal  'Adnva, 
ffwra'p»j),  in  pursuance  of  a  vow  which  the  testator  had  made  on  his 
account.  If  anything  should  happen  to  Nicanor  before  his  marriage, 
or  after  his  marriage  before  the  birth  of  children,  and  he  should  fail  to 
leave  instructions,  Theophrastus  is  to  take  the  daughter,  and  stand  for 
all  purposes  of  administration  in  the  place  of  Nicanor.  Should  he 
decline  to  do  so,  the  four  provisional  trustees  are  to  act  at  their  own  - 
discretion,  guided  by  the  advice  of  Antipater.  Besides  these  arrange- 
ments, all  which  seem  adapted  to  meet  a  sudden  emergency,  such  as 
that  of  a  man  dying  away  from  the  person  in  whom  he  put  the  most 
confidence,  and  in  doubt  whether  the  one  whom  he  next  trusted 
would  be  able  to  act,  we  find  legacies  to  more  than  one  individual 
which  apparently  imply  a  former  bequest,1  and  a  trifling  want  of 
arrangement  in  the  latter  part,  quite  characteristic  of  a  document 
drawn  up  under  the  circumstances  we  have  supposed.  Thus,  he 
orders  statues  to  be  erected  to  Nicanor,  and  Nicanor' s  father  and 
mother ;  also  to  Arimnestus  (his  own  brother),  "  that  there  might  be 
a  memorial  of  him,  he  having  died  childless."  A  statue  of  Ceres, 
vowed  by  his  mother,  is  to  be  set  up  at  Nemea  or  elsewhere.  Then, 
as  if  the  mention  of  one  domestic  relation  had  suggested  another,  he 
commands  that  wherever  he  should  be  buried,  the  bones  of  his 
deceased  wife  should  be  taken  up  and  laid  by  his  side,  according  to 
her  desire ;  and  after  this  he  again  reverts  to  the  subject  of  statues  to 
be  set  up,  and  gives  directions  for  the  fulfilment  of  the  vow  which  he 
had  made  for  the  safety  of  Nicanor. 

Aristotle's          Aristotle   left   behind  him  a  daughter  named  after  her  mother, 

descendants.  Pythjas>     She  is  said  to  have  been  three  times  married;  first,  to 

Nicanor,  the   son  of  Aristotle's   guardian  Proxenus,  and   his  own 

adopted  child  ;  secondly,  to  Procles,  a  descendant — apparently  son  or 

grandson — of  Demaratus,  King  of  Lacedaemon,  by  whom  she  had  two 

J  A  legacy  is  left  to  Herpyllis,  irpbs  rots  irptTepov  SiSo/j.evois  (sec.  13),  and  one 
Simus  is  to  have  XUP^S  r°v  ifp&repov  apyvpiov,  another  slave,  or  money  to  buy  one 
(sec.  15).  The  battle  of  Cranon  took  place  in  August,  B.  c.  322;  but  it  is  very 
probable  that  it  could  not  be  safely  conjectured  till  some  time  after  what  course 
Greek  politics  would  take.  If  now  Theophrastus  was  in  Athens,  and  not  with 
Aristotle  at  Chalcis,  as  seems  far  from  improbable  (see  Diog.  Laert.  Vit.  Theo- 
phrasti,  sec.  36),  Aristotle  might  reasonably  fear  that  he,  perhaps,  would  not  be  able 
to  act  as  his  executor.  Thus,  too,  when  he  directs  a  house  and  furniture  to  be  pro- 
vided for  Herpyllis,  he  selects  Chalcis  and  Stagira,  both  places  where  she  would  be 
safe  from  Athenian  hatred,  for  her  to  choose  between  as  a  residence  (sec.  14), 


ARISTOTLE.  149 

sons  named  Procles  and  Demaratus,  scholars  of  Theophrastus ;  and, 
thirdly,  to  Metrodorus,  an  eminent  physician,  to  whom  she  bore  a 
son  named  after  his  maternal  grandfather.1  He  also  left  behind  him 
an  infant  son,  named  after  his  paternal  grandfather,  Nicomachus,  by  a 
female  of  the  name  of  Herpyllis,  of  whom  it  is  very  difficult  exactly 
to  say  in  what  relation  she  stood  to  him.  To  call  her  his  mistress 
would  imply  a  licentious  description  of  intercourse  which  the  name  by 
which  she  is  described  (vraXXajc?))  by  no  means  warrants  us  in  sup- 
posing, and  which  the  character  of  Aristotle,  the  absence  of  any  allusion 
to  such  a  circumstance  in  the  numerous  calumnies  which  were  heaped 
upon  him,  and  the  terms  of  respect  in  which  she  is  spoken  of  in  his 
will,2  would  equally  incline  us  to  disbelieve.  It  seems  most  probable 
that  he  was  married  to  her  by  that  kind  of  left-handed  marriage  which 
alone  the  laws  of  Greece  and  Rome  permitted  between  persons  who 
were  not  both  citizens  of  the  same  state.  The  Latin  technical  term 
for  the  female  in  this  relation  was  concubina.  She  was  recognised  by 
the  law,  and  her  children  could  inherit  the  sixth  part  of  their  father's 
property.  Mark  Antony  lived  in  this  kind  of  concubinage  with 
Cleopatra,  and  Titus  with  Berenice.  The  two  Antonines,  men  of 
characters  the  most  opposite  to  licentiousness,  were  also  instances  of 
this  practice,  which  indeed  remained  for  some  time  after  Christianity 
became  the  religion  of  the  state,  and  was  regulated  by  two  Christian 
emperors,  Constantine  and  Justinian.3  The  Greek  term  is  not  used 
so  strictly  in  a  technical  sense,  and  may  be  said  to  answer  with  equal 
propriety  to  either  of  the  Latin  words  pellex  and  concubina.  Where, 
however,  the  legal  relation  was  denoted,  there  was  no  other  word 
selected  in  preference  ;*  and  we  may  safely  say  that  this,  in  the  case 

1  Stahr.  Aristotelia,  p.  164. 

4  He  provides  amply  for  her,  and  enjoins  his  executors,  if  she  should  desire  to 
marry,  to  take  care  that  she  is  not  disposed  of  in  a  way  unworthy  of  him,  remind- 
ing them,  that  she  has  deserved  well  of  him  (fcrt  ffirovSaia  -rrepl  e//,e  fyeyero). — 
Diog.  Laert.  sec.  13. 

3  Taylor,  Elements  of  the  Civil  Law,  p.  273.     The  terms  "  semi-matrimonium  " 
and  "  conjugium  inaaquale"  were  applied  to  this  connexion,  which  was  entered  into 
before  witnesses  ("testatione  interposita  ")  and  with  the  consent  of  the  father  of 
the  woman.     Both  contracting  parties,  too,  were  obliged  to  be  single.    See  Gibbon, 
vol.  v.  c.  xliv.  pp.  368-370. 

4  The  author  of  the  oration  against  Neaera  thus  uses  it  in  the  distinction  which  he 
draws  (p.  1386),  ras  juei/  yap  fraipas  ^Soi/fjs  eVe/ca  exo/xez/,  TO.S  Se  7roA\a/cas 
TTJS  /ca0'  T)/j.fpav  Oepcnrsias  rov  ffd/JLaros,  TU.S  8e  yvva'iKas  TOV  TraiSoTroteTo'flcu 
yvyfficas  Kal  TUV  ei/Soj/  tyvXaica  TTKTT^V  ex*iu-      It  must  not  be  concealed  that 
Athenaeus,  p.  589  (and  perhaps  Hermippus,  whom  he  quotes),  called  Herpyllis  by 
the  term   erdipa.     But  possibly  the  word  eratpa  was  used  by  him  in  that  sense 
which  Athenseus  (p.  571,  c.)  speaks  of.     And  even  if  Herpyllis  had  been  originally 
an  adventurer  of  the  same  description  as  Aspasia,  we  shall  not  necessarily  think  the 
worse  of  Pericles  for  marrying  the  latter,  or  Aristotle  the  former,  when  we  con- 
sider that  everything  which  elevates  marriage  above  a  faithful  intercourse  of  this 
kind  is  due  to  the  religious  sanction  and  the  religious  meaning  which  it  derives 
from  Christianity.    In  Paganism  the  superiority  of  the  one  to  the  other  was  purely 
legal  and  conventional.     The  wife  was  the  housekeeper  and  the  breeder  of  citizens, 
and  nothing  whatever  more. 


150  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

before  us,  is  the  probable  interpretation,  although  there  is  no  positive 
authority  that  it  is  the  true  one.  The  son  Nicomachus  was  brought 
up  by  Theophrastus,  and  if  we  are  to  credit  Cicero's  assertion,  that 
the  Nicomachean  Ethics  which  are  found  among  Aristotle's  works, 
were  by  some  attributed  to  him,  must  have  profited  much  by  his 
master's  instructions.  It  seems,  however,  more  likely  that  Aristocles's 
account  of  him  is  the  correct  one,  who  relates  that  he  was  killed  in 
battle  at  a  very  early  age.1 

Fate  of  ^  The  works  of  Aristotle  are  said  to  have  met  with  a  most  singular 

«orks.tle S  mischance.  They  are  related  to  have  been  buried  some  time  after  his 
death,  and  not  to  have  been  recovered  till  two  hundred  years  after- 
wards. This  story  is  so  curious  in  itself,  and  of  such  vital  importance 
in  the  history  of  philosophy,  that  we  shall  make  no  apology  for  in- 
vestigating it  thoroughly,  in  spite  of  the  length  to  which  this  article 
has  already  been  extended. 

stiaho's  The  main  authority  for  the  opinion  is  Strabo,  in  a  passage  of  his 

unt'  geographical  work,2  where,  having  occasion  to  speak  of  Scepsis,  a 
town  in  the  Troad,  he  mentions  two  or  three  persons  of  eminence  who 
were  born  there.  One  of  these  is  Neleus,  the  son  of  Coriscus,  a  person 
who  was  a  scholar  both  of  Aristotle  and  Theophrastus,  and  who 
succeeded  to  the  library  of  the  latter,  in  which  too  was  contained  that 
of  the  former.  "  For  Aristotle,"  Strabo  goes  on  to  say,  "  made  over 
his  own  library  to  Theophrastus  (to  whom  he  also  left  his  school), 
and  was  the  first  that  I  know  of  who  collected  books  and  taught  the 
kings  in  Egypt  to  form  a  library.  Theophrastus  made  them  over  to 
Neleus ;  he  took  them  over  to  Scepsis,  and  made  them  over  to  his 
heirs  (ro7c  juer'  avrov) — uneducated  men,  who  let  the  books  remain 
locked  up  without  any  care.  When,  however,  they  observed  the 
pains  which  the  kings  of  the  Attalic  dynasty  (in  whose  dominions  the 
town  was)  were  at  to  get  books  to  furnish  the  library  at  Pergamus, 
they  buried  them  under  ground  in  a  sort  of  cellar,  and  a  long  time 

1  Aristocles,  ap.  Euseb.  loc.  cit. ;  Cicero,  De  Fin.  v.  5. 

2  Geogr.  xiii.  p.  124,  ed.  Tauchnitz.     We  have  translated  the  whole  of  this  cele- 
brated passage  as  it  stands  in  the  text  of  all  the  printed  editions.     But  besides  the 
words  T<i  re  'ApiffTOTf\ovs  Kal  to.  &eo(ppd(rrov  f3ifi\ia,  which  we  look  upon  as  a 
marginal  note  that  has  crept  into  the  text,  there  appears  to  us  to  be  unquestionably 
a  corruption  in  the  latter  part.     In  default  of  the  authority  of  MSS.,  a  conjecture 
can  only  be  received  with  great  caution;  but  still  we  should  be  inclined  to  think, 
that  immediately  after  the  word  irpoffehdfteTO  should  come  /col  f3i0\io(co!)\ai  rives 

'AA.e£ai/8peia,  and  that  after  f}if3\io0-f]KT)s  probably  followed  something  like 

Kal  trap'  avrov  6  'PdSios  'kvtipAviKos  eviropfaas  T&V  avnypafyuv  els  peaov  e07j/ce, 
Kal  ai/eypatye  rovs  vvv  <pepo/J.evovs  irivanas.     Plutarch,  Vit.  Syll.  c.  26,  from  whom 
we  have  taken  these  words,  unquestionably  follows  Strabo  in  the  account  which  he 
gives  of  this  affair.     He  cites  him  by  name  almost  immediately  afteiwards,  as  is 
remarked  by  Schneider.      (Praef.  ad  Aristot.  H.  A.  p.  Ixxx.)     It  was,  however, 
scarcely  the  Geography,   but   the  Historical  Memoirs  of  Strabo,  which  was  his 
authority  through  the  life  of  Sylla.     Hence  the  slight  divarication  of  the  two  nar- 
ratives :  in  the  topographical  work  the  circumstances  of  the  story  which  are  most 
connected  with  Scepsis  are  principally  dwelt  upon;  in  the  other  those  connected 
with  Sylla. 


ARISTOTLE.  151 

after,  when  they  had  received  much  injury  from  damp  and  worms,  the 
representatives  of  the  family  sold  them  to  Apellicou  of  Teos — the 
books  both  of  Aristotle  and  of  Theophrastus — for  a  very  large  sum. 
Apellicon  was  more  of  a  book-collector  than  a  philosopher ;  and  the 
result  was  that,  in  an  attempt  to  supply  the  gaps  on  the  transcription 
of  the  text  in  new  copies,  he  filled  them  up  the  reverse  of  well,  and 
sent  the  books  abroad  full  of  mistakes.  And  of  the  Peripatetic 
philosophers,  the  more  ancient  who  immediately  succeeded  Theo- 
phrastus, as  in  fact  they  had  no  books  at  all,  except  a  very  few,  and 
those  chiefly  of  the  exoteric  class,  were  unable  to  philosophize  system- 
atically, but  were  obliged  to  elaborate  rhetorical  disquisitions  (prfitv 
f.\etv  (j>t\o(TO(f)e1v  TrpaypariKw^  a\\a  Qiaeiq  \r)Kvdi£eiv^),  while  their 
successors  after  the  time  when  these  books  came  out,  speculated  better 
and  more  in  Aristotle's  spirit  than  they,  although  they  too  were  forced 
to  explain  most  of  his  views  by  guess-work  (TO.  TroAXa  tiKora  \iyziv) 
from  the  multitude  of  errors.  And  to  this  inconvenience  Rome  con- 
tributed a  large  share.  For  immediately  after  the  death  of  Apellicon, 
Sylla,  having  taken  Athens,  seized  upon  the  library  of  Apellicon  ;  and 
after  it  had  been  brought  here,  Tyrannic  the  grammarian,  who  was 
an  admirer  of  Aristotle,  had  the  handling  of  it  (  cte-^eipiffaro1)  by  the 
favour  of  the  superintendent  of  the  library  ;  and  [so  had]  some  book- 
sellers, who  employed  wretched  transcribers,  and  neglected  to  verify 
the  correctness  of  the  copies,  an  evil  which  occurs  in  the  case  of  all 
other  authors  too  when  copied  for  sale,  both  here2  and  in  Alexandria." 

Plutarch,  in  his  biography  of  Sylla,3  confirms  a  part  of  this  account,  rintareh's 
and  adds  a  feature  or  two  which  is  wanting  here.  His  authority  is  account- 
obviously  Strabo  himself  in  another  work  now  lost,  and  he  is,  there- 
fore, not  to  be  reckoned  as  an  additional  witness,  but  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  one  last  summoned,  again  recalled  to  explain  some 
parts  of  his  own  testimony.  From  him  we  learn  that  Sylla  carried 
the  library  of  Apellicon,  containing  the  greater  part  of"  the  books  of 
Aristotle  and  Theophrastus,  with  which  up  to  that  time  most  people 
had  no  accurate  acquaintance,4 to  Rome.  "There,"  he  continues,  "it 
is  said  Tyrannic  the  grammarian,  arranged  (IvaKevaaaaQnC)  the  prin- 
cipal part  of  them,  and  Andronicus  the  Rhodian,  obtaining  copies 
from  him,  published  them,  and  drew  up  the  syllabuses  (^ivaKag) 
which  are  now  current."  He  confirms  the  account  of  Strabo  that  the 
early  Peripatetics  had  neither  a  wide  nor  an  accurate  acquaintance 
with  the  works  of  Aristotle  and  Theophrastus,  from  the  circumstance 
of  the  property  of  Neleus,  to  whom  Theophrastus  bequeathed  his 
books,  falling  into  the  hands  of  illiterate  and  indifferent  persons ;  but 
of  the  story  of  burying  the  books  he  says  nothing,  nor  yet  of  the 
endeavours  of  Apellicon  to  repair  the  damaged  manuscripts. 

1  In  the  parallel  narrative  of  Plutarch  the  term  ei/<r/ceua0-a<r0ai  is  used. 

2  For  the  carelessness  of  transcribers  at  Rome,  see  Cicero,  Epp.  Fam.  iii.  5;  and 
Martial,  ii.  8.  3  Vit.  Syll.  sec.  2(J. 

4  oijTro)  r6re  ffatas  'yvut^iJ.eva.  rois  TroAAoTs. 


152  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

^ur  rea(*ers  have  here  tne  whole  authority1  which  is  to  be  found  in 
story.  the  writers  of  antiquity  for  this  celebrated  story,  which  has  been 

transmitted  from  one  mouth  to  another  in  modern  times  without  the 
least  question  of  its  truth  until  very  lately.  And  not  only  has  it  been 
accepted  as  a  satisfactory  reason  for  an  extraordinary  and  most  im- 
portant fact,  the  decay  of  philosophy  for  the  two  centuries  preceding 
the  time  of  Cicero,  but  editors  and  commentators  of  the  works  of 
Aristotle  have  resorted  to  it  without  scruple  for  a  solution  of  all  the 
difficulties  which  they  might  encounter.  They  have  allowed  them- 
selves the  most  arbitrary  transpositions  of  the  several  parts  of  the 
same  work,  and  acknowledged  no  limit  to  the  number  or  magnitude 
of  gaps  which  might  be  assumed  as  due  to  the  damp  or  worms  of  the 
cellar  at  Scepsis.2  Of  late  years,  however,  as  the  critical  study  of  the 
Greek  language  has  increased,  and  the  attention  of  scholars  been 
more  drawn  towards  the  philosophical  department  of  antiquity,  the 
inadequacy  of  this  story  to  account  for  the  state  in  which  Aristotle's 
writings  have  come  down  to  us  has  become  more  and  more  apparent  ; 
notices  have  been  found  which  are  quite  incompatible  with  it  ;  and  at 
the  present  time  it  may  safely  be  said  that  the  falsity  of  the  account 
Unwarranted  in  the  main  is  completely  proved.  We  will  endeavour  to  give  our 
readers  some  idea  of  the  laborious  researches  which  have  led  to  this 
result.  They  have  been  carried  on  chiefly,  if  not  entirely,  by  German 
philologers,  the  pioneers  in  this  as  in  almost  every  other  uncleared 
region  of  antiquity.3  But  we  must  first  call  their  attention  to  some 
other  circumstances  which  would,  antecedently  to  the  investigations  of 
which  we  speak,  dispose  us  to  look  with  some  suspicion  on  the  tale, 
unless  very  considerably  qualified. 

The  work  of  Athenaeus,  to  which  we  are  indebted  for  so  much 
fragmentary  information  on  matters  of  antiquity,  is  cast  in  a  form 
which  had  particular  attractions  for  the  readers  of  the  time  in  which 
the  author  lived  —  the  reigns  of  Marcus  Aurelius  and  Commodus.  A 
wealthy  Roman  is  represented  as  hospitably  entertaining  several 
persons  eminent  for  their  acquaintance  with  literature  and  philosophy  ; 
and  the  most  curious  notices  imaginable  from  a  multitude  of  writers, 

1  The  account  of  Suidas  (v.  2vAA.os)  is  obviously  extracted  from  the  passage  in 
Plutarch. 

2  Thus  Antonius   Scainus  interpolated   the   seventh   and  eighth  books  of  the 
Politics  between  the  third  and  fourth.     Conringe,  who  followed  him,  made  up  for 
a  scrupulous  abstinence  from  this  course  by  indulging  himself  freely  in  hypothe- 
sized lacunae  j  to  such  an  extent   that  Goettling   somewhat  facetiously  observes, 
Asteriscis  suis  interpositis  noctem  Aristoteliam  quasi  stellis  illustrare  sategit.  — 
Pref.  ad  Arist.  Polit.  p.  6. 

a  Brandis,  Ueber  die  Schicksale  der  Aristotelischen  Buecher,  und  einige  Kriterien 
ihrer  Aechtheit,  in  Niebuhr's  Rheinisches  Museum,  vol.  i.  Kopp,  Nachtrag  zur 
Brandisischen  Untersuchung,  &c.  in  the  same  work,  vol.  iii.  Fabricius  (Biblioth. 
Grseca,  iii.  c.  v.)  mentions  a  French  author  who,  in  a  work  entitled  Les  Amenites 
de  la  Critique,  published  at  Paris  in  1717,  impugns  the  story  of  Strabo.  Of  the 
two  German  writers,  the  former  has  contributed  by  far  the  more  important  investi- 
gations of  this  subject.  Stahr  (Aristotelia,  Zweiter  Theil)  has  availed  himself  of 
both,  but  has  added  little  of  his  own. 


statement, 


ARISTOTLE.  153 

and  upon  all  subjects,  are  woven  ingeniously  into  the  conversation  of 
the  guests.  Nearly  in  the  beginning  of  the  work,  the  author,  who 
himself  is  one  of  them,  enlarges  on  the  splendid  munificence,  the 
literary  taste,  and  the  accomplishments  of  the  host.  Among  other 
things  he  praises  the  extent  and  value  of  his  library.  "  It  was  of  such 
a  size,"  he  says,  "as  to  exceed  those  of  all  who  had  gained  a  reputa- 
tion as  book-collectors, — Polycrates  the  Samian,  Pisistratus  the  tyrant  of 
Athens,  Euclid  (also  an  Athenian),  Nicocrates  of  Cyprus,  ay,  the  kings 
of  Pergamus  too,  and  Euripides  the  poet,  and  Aristotle  the  philosopher, 
[and  Theophrastus],  and  him  who  had  (^tarripriaavTa)  the  books  of 
these,  from  whom  king  Ptolemy  my  countryman,  surnamed  Philadel- 
phus,  bought  the  whole,  and  carried  them  away,  together  with  those  he 
got  from  Athens  and  those  from  Rhodes,  to  the  fair  city  of  Alexandria." 
It  is  obvious  that  the  author  here  follows  an  account  very  different  from 
Strabo's,  one  which  represented  Neleus's  library  including  the  costly  col-  Incom- 
lections  of  Aristotle  and  Theophrastus  as  forming,  together  with  some  sS2JJjgWlt 
others,  the  basis  of  the  famous  collection  at  Alexandria.  Now  it  is  utterly 
inconceivable  that  if  Ptolemy  bought  the  whole  library  of  Neleus,  he 
should  have  been  satisfied  to  leave  the  works  of  Aristotle  and  Theo- 
phrastus only  behind  in  the  hands  of  men  so  ignorant  of  their  value, 
and  careless  of  what  became  of  them  as  Neleus's  heirs  are  represented 
to  have  been,  if  no  other  copies  of  these  works  existed ;  and  even 
supposing  it  possible  that  he  should  have  done  so,  would  not  so  sin- 
gular an  incident  of  literary  history  have  been  mentioned  by  some 
author  of  antiquity  ?  Should  we  not  find  some  record  of  it  in  Cicero,  silence  of 
from  whom  we  learn  so  much  of  the  history  of  Greek  philosophy  ?  Clcero- 
He  even  mentions  the  degeneracy  of  the  Peripatetic  school  after  Theo- 
phrastus in  strong  terms  :'  is  it  conceivable  that  if  it  had  been  attri- 
butable to  the  want  of  their  founders'  works,  he  should  either  have 
not  heard  of  this,  or  should  not  think  it  worth  mentioning  ?  Could 
such  a  story  have  escaped  the  anecdote  collectors  under  the  empire, 
JElian,  Phavorinus,  and  a  host  of  others?  Would  Diogenes  Laertius, 
who  relates  how  many  cooking  utensils  Aristotle  passed  at  the  Eubcean 
custom-house,  have  neglected  so  interesting  an  anecdote  as  this  ?  Such 
considerations,  combined  with  the  notice  in  Athenasus,  must  prevent 
an  impartial  judge  from  attaching  more  than  a  very  small  degree  of 
credit  to  that  part  of  Strabo's  narrative,  which  denies  the  publication 
of  the  works  of  Aristotle  to  any  considerable  extent  before  the  time  of 
Sylla.  And  this  scepticism  will  not  be  diminished  when  we  consider, 
that  the  greater  part  of  Aristotle's  works  are  so  closely  connected  with  close  con- 
each  other  that  if  any  were  published  all  or  nearly  all  must  have  been  ^sSie^ 
so.  He  continually  refers  from  the  one  to  the  other  for  investigations  works. 

1  De  Finibus,  v.  5.  "  Simus  igitur  contenti  his  [».  e.  Aristotele  et  Theophrasto] 
namque  horum  posteri,  meliores  illi  quidem  med  sententid  quam  reliquarum  phi- 
losophi  disciplinarum ;  sed  ita  degenerarunt,  ut  ipsi  ex  se  nati  esse  videantur."  It 
is  strange  that  the  words  in  italic  characters  should  not  have  opened  the  eyes  of  men 
to  look  for  a  general  cause  of  a  general  deterioration.  Could  they  suppose  that  all 
the  schools  had  lost  all  their  books  ? 


154  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

which  are  necesssary  to  the  argument  which  he  has  in  hand.  And 
although  these  references  may  be,  and  probably  often  are,  due  to  a 
later  hand,  still  this  objection  cannot  lie  made  in  all  cases, — in  those, 
for  instance,  where  the  special  work  referred  to  is  not  named,  but  de- 
scribed in  such  a  way  that  it  is  impossible  not  to  identify  it.1 

But,  after  all,  these  arguments  are  little  else  than  negative,  and 
although  they  lead  to  a  probability  of  a  very  high  order  against  the 
truth  of  Strabo's  narrative,  they  are  not  absolutely  conclusive.  In  fact, 
the  work  of  disproof  is  a  most  difficult  one,  from  the  circumstance  of 
Destruction  the  whole  of  the  literature  of  the  two  centuries  after  Theophrastus, 
ot  literature.  enormous  as  its  extent  was,  having  been  swept  away,  except  such 
scanty  fragments  as  are  found  here  and  there  imbedded  in  the  work  of 
some  grammarian  or  compiler.  This  will  be  strikingly  evident  from 
the  consideration,  that  if  the  works  of  Aristotle,  which  have  come 
down  to  us,  had  been  lost,  and  a  similar  story  had  been  related  of 
Plato's  works  to  that  which  we  read  in  Strabo  respecting  those  of 
Aristotle  and  Theophrastus,  its  refutation  would  be  quite  as  difficult 
as  that  of  the  one  about  which  we  are  at  present  concerned.  But  the 
difficulty  of  the  problem  did  not  damp  the  ardour  of  the  German 
scholars  we  have  spoken  of  above.  They  have  searched  through  the 
works  of  the  voluminous  commentators  upon  Aristotle,  which  the 
learned  eclecticism  of  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth  centuries  of  the 
Christian  era  produced,  some  of  them  still  only  existing  in  manuscripts,2 
with  an  untiring  diligence,  and  have  detected  in  the  works  of  much 
more  modern  scholiasts  extracts  from  their  predecessors,  which  prove 
to  demonstration  that  the  notice  in  Athenaeus  is  in  all  probability  true, 
and  that  certainly  so  much  of  Strabo's  account  as  is  incompatible  with 
it  is  false. 

J  Ritter,  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  vol.  iii.  p.  35,  gives  a  list  of  the  passages  in 
which  the  philosopher  alludes  to  his  own  writings.  Against  many  of  these  the 
objection  we  have  noticed  may  be  made.  A  more  conclusive  one  is  Poetic,  p.  1454, 
col.  2,  line  18  (quoted  by  Stahr,  Aristotelia,  ii.  p.  296),  from  which  it  is  certain 
that  an  Ethics — not,  however,  necessarily  the  Nicomachean — was  published  at  the 
time  the  passage  was  written.  But.  unfortunately  (supposing  the  work  alluded  to 
to  be  the  Nicomachean  Ethics),  there  is,  perhaps,  no  one  of  Aristotle's  writings  so 
independent  of  all  the  rest. 

2  The  Royal  Academy  of  Berlin  were  induced,  by  the  advice  of  Schleiermacher, 
to  publish  a  complete  edition  of  Aristotle's  works,  based  upon  the  collation  of  as 
many  manuscripts  as  could  be  made  available  for  the  purpose.  The  execution  of 
this  work  was  placed  under  the  superintendence  of  two  most  distinguished  men  ;  the 
one,  Immanuel  Bekker,  the  celebrated  editor  of  Plato,  Thucydides,  and  the  Greek 
Orators — a  scholar  whose  piercing  intuition  into  the  genius  of  the  Greek  language 
can  only  be  compared  to  that  of  Newton  into  the  laws  of  the  universe,  or  that  of 
Niebuhr  into  the  institutions  of  antiquity ;  the  other,  Christian  Brandis,  the  friend 
of  Niebuhr,  and  guardian  of  his  orphan  children.  The  former  fulfilled  his  portion 
of  the  task  in  1831,  by  publishing  the  text  of  Aristotle's  works  from  the  collation 
of  more  than  a  hundred  manuscripts,  in  two  volumes,  quarto.  The  latter,  to 
whom  the  task  of  collecting  and  arranging  the  Greek  commentators,  and  of  eluci- 
dating the  philosophy,  devolved,  published  one  volume  of  those  (some  from  hitherto 
unedited  manuscripts)  in  1836,  and  promised  in  the  preface  a  second,  with  prole- 
gomena, as  soon  as  the  pressure  of  bad  health  would  allow. 


ARISTOTLE.  155 

We  have  seen  that,  according  to  the  authorities  on  which  the  story 
rests,  a  very  considerable  impulse  was  given  in  the  first  century  before 
the  Christian  era  to  the  study  of  the  Peripatetic  philosophy.  Andro-  Ancient 
nicus  the  Rhodian  is  mentioned  as  the  principal  promoter  of  this  toS^iVis- 
revival,  having  rearranged  the  works  of  Aristotle  in  a  way  which  was  totle- 
generally  received  in  the  time  of  Strabo,  and  which  formed  the  basis 
of  the  present  division.  Contemporary  with  Andronicus,  although 
younger  than  him,  was  Athenodorus  of  Tarsus ;  and  in  the  next  gene- 
ration to  Athenodorns,  Boethus  of  Sidon,  both  celebrated  for  their 
acquaintance  with  the  doctrines  of  Aristotle,  and  for  their  investiga- 
tions of  the  literary  questions  connected  with  them.  Now,  although 
the  works  of  all  these  writers  have  perished,1  they  were  not  lost  until 
they  had  furnished  materials  to  Adrastus  and  Alexander  of  Aphro- 
disias,  in  the  second  century,  and  the  Eclectic  philosophers,  Ammo- 
nius,  Saccas,  Porphyry,  Ammonius  the  son  of  Hermias,  Simplicius, 
and  David  the  Armenian,  in  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth ;  and  of  most 
of  these  considerable  remains  have  come  down  to  the  present  time,2  so 
that  we  are  enabled,  with  very  great  precision,  to  ascertain  the  views 
of  "  the  ancient  commentators?  (oi  7ra\aioi  t^yT/T-cu),  as  Andronicus 
and  his  contemporaries  are  called  by  their  more  modern  followers,  on 
several  particulars,  and  among  others,  on  some  having  a  direct  bearing 
upon  the  story  of  Strabo. 

We  find,  for  instance,  that  a  point  which  occupied  much  of  the  some  of  their 
attention  of  the  "  ancients,"  was  to  determine  between  the  claims  of  views  still 

111-1  •  known. 

rival  works,  bearing  the  same  name,  and  upon  the  same  subject,  to  be 
reputed  the  genuine  productions  of  Aristotle.  Andronicus  questioned 
the  pretensions  of  the  treatise  Trepl  epp/vaac,  and  those  of  the  latter 
part  of  the  '  Categories.3  Adrastus  found  two  editions  (if  we  may 
use  the  expression)  of  the  latter  work,  differing  very  considerably  from 
each  other.  The  same  was  stated  by  him  of  the  seventh  book  of  the 
*  Physical  Lectures.'4  Cicero  mentions  it  as  a  question  which  could 
not  be  decided,  as  to  whether  a  work  on  Ethics  (apparently  that  which 
has  come  down  to  us  under  the  title  of  fiOcKa  Nt/co/za^eta)  w'as  written 
by  Aristotle,  or  by  his  son  Nicomachus.  And  that  the  only  evidences 
on  the  one  side  or  the  other  were  merely  internal,  is  obvious  from  the 
remark  in  which  he  expresses  his  inclination  towards  the  latter  opinion, 
"  that  he  does  not  see  why  the  style  of  the  son  should  not  bear  a  close 
resemblance  to  that  of  the  father."5  Another  question  which  occa- 
sioned considerable  perplexity,  was  the  arrangement  of  the  several 
works  which  were  held  to  be  genuine.  The  present  distribution  is  Arran<re- 
entirely  based  upon  an  arrangement  which  goes  no  further  back  than  merit  of  the 

,1       ,.  /•   A      i        •  i  •  •     i       TA-  r  writings  of 

the  time  or  Andronicus,  and  is  entirely  different  from  the  one  or  more  Aristotle. 

1  The  Paraphrase  of  the  Nicomachean  Ethics,  which  has  come  down  to  us  under 
the  name  of  Andronicus's,  is  generally  considered  to  be  of  a  later  date. 

2  Adrastus,  trepl  TTJS  rd^ecas  rtav  'A-piffroreXovs  ffvy^pa^^TtaVj  is  said  still  to 
exist  in  an  Arabic  version.     Brandis,  loc.  cit.  p.  253. 

3  Brandis,  p.  241.  4  Brandis,  loc.  cit.  5  De  Fin.  v.  5. 


156  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

which  appear  to  have  prevailed  before  him.  There  are  at  this  day 
three  known  catalogues  of  the  writings — the  first  is  the  one  given  by 
Diogenes  Laertius  in  his  life,  the  second  that  of  the  anonymous  Greek 
biographer  published  by  Menage.  These  resemble  one  another  very 
much,  and  bear  every  appearance  of  having  been  derived,  probably, 
however,  through  secondary  channels,  from  the  same  source,  which  has 
been  conjectured  with  great  plausibility  to  be  Hermippus  of  Alexan- 
dria's work,1  of  which  we  have  spoken  in  the  early  part  of  this  essay. 
But  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  greater  difference  than  is  found  be- 
tween these  lists  and  the  works  which  have  come  down  to  us.  The 
names  are  so  completely  unlike,  and  there  are  so  many  reciprocal 
omissions,  that  a  scholar  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  able,  with  the 
aid  of  a  mortal  antipathy  to  the  Aristotelian  philosophy,  to  succeed  in 
persuading  himself  that  everything  which  has  come  down  to  us  under 
the  name  of  the  great  Stagirite,  was,  with  very  slight  exceptions, 
spurious.2  The  third  catalogue  is  found  only  in  Arabic,  and  is  said  to 
much  more  nearly  correspond  with  our  own  ;3  and,  indeed,  a  great  part 
of  the  difference  between  this  and  the  two  former  is  explicable  from 
the  fact  that  the  same  work  is  often  referred  to  under  more  names 
than  one,  not  merely  by  subsequent  commentators  on  Aristotle,  but 
also  by  the  philosopher  himself.4  But  such  differences,  independently 
of  positive  testimony,  abundantly  show  that  many  pieces  which  now 
form  the  component  parts  of  a  larger  treatise  were  not  left  by  the 
author  in  such  an  order,  or,  at  least,  that  no  authentic  documents  from 
which  any  given  arrangement  could  be  decidedly  inferred,  came  to  the 
<  no  knowledge  of  Andronicus  and  his  brethren.  If  they  had, — if,  that  is, 

authentic      the  manuscripts  of  Apellicon  had  been,  as  they  are  represented,  a 
copy.  genuine  copy  of  all  or  most  of  Aristotle's  works,  never  till  then  known, 

the  task  of  these  critics  would  have  been  a  most  easy  one.  There 
would  have  been  no  occasion  for  discussions  of  the  internal  evidence 
to  determine  between  various  readings  of  the  text,  different  systems  of 
arrangement,  or  contending  claims  as  to  authorship.  A  simple  refer- 
ence to  a  primitive  copy  would  at  once  have  settled  all.  And  what 
shall  we  say  to  the  letter  of  Alexander  to  Aristotle,  complaining  that 
he  had  published  his  acroamatic  works,  and  thus  put  the  world  on  a 
footing  with  his  most  highly-instructed  pupil  ?  It  is  of  no  avail  to  urge 
that  the  letter  is  not  genuine :  it  very  likely  may  not  be  so,  but  it  was 

1  Brandis,  pp.  249,  262. 

2  Patritius,  Discussiones  Peripatetics,  i.  p.  16,  et  seq.     His  only  exceptions  were 
the  Mechanics,  and  the  treatise  on  the  doctrines  of  Xenophanes,  Zeno,  and  Gorges. 
Some  years  afterwards  a  yet  more  extravagant  opinion  was  propounded,  that  the 
present  Greek  manuscripts  of  Aristotle  were  translations  from  the  Arabic.    Philippe 
Cattier  (quoted  by  Harles  on  Fabricius,  Bib.  Gr.  vol.  iii.  p.  207)  mentions  it  as 
the  belief  of  some. 

3  Brandis,  p.  262. 

4  Brandis,  p.  261.     Petiti  (Observatt.  Miscell.  iv.  9)  and  Buhle  (Commenta- 
tiones  Societatis  Reg.  Gottingensis,  vol.  xv.  p.  57),  quoted  by  Brandis,  give  several 
instances  of  this  identity;  as  also  Brandis  himself  (Diatribe  de  perditis  Arist.  libris 
De  Ideis  et  De  Bono,  p.  7). 


ARISTOTLE.  157 

extracted  by  Gellius  from  the  book  of  the  very  Andronicus  whom  this 
tale  represents  as  the  first  publisher  of  these,  and  therefore  proves  his 
belief  at  any  rate  that  some  of  them  had  been  published  long  before.1 

This  evidence  seems  to  prove  incontrovertibly  that  the  part  of 
Strabo's  and  Plutarch's  narrative  which  relates  to  the  extraordinary 
treasure  first  made  available  by  Andronicus,  cannot  be  true.  By  an- 
other chain  of  testimony,  equally  elaborate,  Brandis  has  shown  that 
many  of  the  works  of  Aristotle,, of  the  highest  and  most  recondite 
character,  that  we  now  possess,  were  actually  in  the  hands  of  the  Peripa-  Aristotle's 
tetic  school,  whose  degeneracy  has  been  attributed  to  the  loss  of  them,  known  to  the 
It  is  well  known  that  the  successors  of  the  great  philosopher  in  several  ^[^  Peripa" 
instances  composed  works  on  the  same  subject  (and  sometimes  identical 
in  title  also),  with  existing  treatises  of  their  founder.2  For,  indeed,  the 
spirit  of  dogmatism,  which  is  often  imputed  to  the  Aristotelian  philo- 
sophy by  persons  who  are  only  acquainted  with  the  schoolmen's 
modifications  of  it  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  is  really  so 
alien  to  it,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  the  history  of  civiliza- 
tion an  example  of  a  more  vigorous  and  healthy  independence  of 
thought,  and  a  greater  ardour  for  investigation  than  is  afforded  by  the . 
earlier  disciples  of  the  Lyceum.3  Although  the  works  in  question 
have  long  since  been  lost,  Brandis  has  succeeded  in  eliciting  from  the 
notices  which  remain  of  them  in  the  commentators  we  have  referred 
to,  very  many  particulars,  which  show  in  some  instances  that  the 
author  actually  followed  the  course  of  the  Aristotelian  parallel  work, 
and  in  more,  that  he  made  use  of  it.  Under  the  first  of  these  two 
classes  are  brought,  by  decisive  arguments,  the  '  Physical  Lectures' 
and  the  first  book  of  the  '  Former  Analytics  ;'  and  there  is  a  consider- 
able probability  that  the  second  book  of  the  '  Former  Analytics'  and 
the  fifth  of  the  '  Metaphysics  '  may  be  added  to  these.4  Under  the 
second  we  may  number  the  '  Latter  Analytics,'  the  '  Categories,'  per- 
haps the  treatise  Trepi  epjurjve/ae,  the  '  Topica,'  the  treatises  '  On  the 
Heavens,'  *  On  Growth  and  Corruption,'  '  On  the  Soul,'  and  Jthe  '  Me- 

1  Aulus  Gellius,  Noct.  Att.  xx.  5. 

2  Ammonius,  Proem,  ad  Categor.  of  yap  /j.a6-f]Tai  avrov  ''EvSii/j.os  Kal  Qavias  Kal 
®e6(ppa<TTOS  Kara  £ri\ov  rov  SiSacrndhov  yeypa<p'f)Kao'i  KaTyyopias  Kal   ire  pi 
ep/iiji/etas  Kal  avaXvr I/CTJJ/. 

8  Aristotle  himself  is  especially  noticed  for  having  modified  some  of  his  views, 
which  had  been  attacked  by  other  philosophers,  with  perfect  readiness,  and  without 
attempting  any  vexatious  resistance  or  exhibiting  any  annoyance  :  et/ia  TUV  irp6ffQev 
avTots  (besides  Aristotle,  Democritus  and  Chrysippus  are  spoken  of),  apeo'/ctWcoi' 
a.Qopvfi(as  Kal  aS^/crwy  /cat  [uttf  ^Soi/fjs  ufytiaav .  (Plutarch,  De  Virtute  Moiali, 
p.  448.)  This  passage  will  serve  to  show  how  little  Bacon's  well-known  represen- 
tation of  him  as  one  who  "  bore,  like  the  Turk,  no  brother  near  the  throne,"  is 
founded  on  fact.  But,  in  truth,  the  great  father  of  modern  science  imputed  to 
Aristotle  all  the  positiveness  and  dogmatism  of  the  modern  Aristotelians :  his  dis- 
gust at  the  idolaters  was  extended  to  the  object  of  their  idolatry.  Somewhat  simi- 
larly, he  confuses  the  practice  of  the  later  Peripatetics  (oi  6e<reis  \rjKv6  i^ovrcs)  with 
that  of  their  founder. — Novum  Organum,  lib.  i.  sec.  71. 

4  Brandis,  pp.  266—269,  281,  282. 


158  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

teorologica.' l  Further  researches  on  the  principle  here  indicated  may 
very  probably  add  to  the  lists,  but  a  very  small  part  of  either  would 
be  sufficient  to  demonstrate — when  we  consider  that  almost  every  one 
of  these  treatises  would  involve  the  possession  of  some  others  in  order 
to  be  itself  intelligible — that  it  was  not  the  want  of  acroamatic  works 
that  produced  the  decay  of  the  Peripatetic  school. 

Ai«p  to  the  To  make  an  objection  to  the  inference  which  these  facts  allow  us  to 
draw  against  the  correctness  of  Strabo's  story,  on  the  ground  that 
Theophrastus  may  possibly  have  chosen  to  keep  the  works  of  Aristotle, 
as  well  as  his  own,  in  his  own  possession,  and  communicate  the  use 
of  them  only  to  the  more  favoured  of  his  scholars,  would  be  a  most 
arbitrary  proceeding ;  as  there  is  not  the  slightest  historical  ground 
for  such  an  hypothesis.  But  Brandis  has  precluded  even  this  step. 
He  has  shown  that  Chrysippus  the  Stoic  (who,  in  his  dialectical 
work,  quoted  by  Plutarch,2  speaks  in  the  highest  terms  of  the  cultiva- 
tion of  that  branch  of  science  by  the  Academics  down  to  Polemo,  and 
the  Peripatetics  down  to  Strato  inclusive),  in  several  of  his  particular 
doctrines  had  an  especial  reference  to  the  former  treatment  of  the  same 
by  Aristotle,  Eudemus,  and  Theophrastus.3  His  discussion  of  the 
idea  of  Time  is  entirely  based  upon  that  of  Aristotle,  and  exhibits  an 
unworthy  endeavour  to  conceal  the  similarity.4  Nay,  the  ancient 
commentators  of  highest  reputation  maintained  that  the  whole  of  the 
Stoics'  logical  science,  on  which  they  prided  themselves  much,  was 
nothing  more  than  a  following  out  of  Aristotle's  principles,  and,  in 
particular,  that  their  doctrine  of  Contraries  (ra  evairia)  was  entirely 
derived  from  Aristotle's  book  'On  Opposites'  (napl  ajrim/utVwv).5 
Also  to  the  But  it  was  not  only  to  philosophers  either  of  his  own  or  of  rival 
•chdkrs.  sects  that  the  works  of  Aristotle  were  known  at  the  time  when  they 
are  reported  to  have  been  lying  in  the  cellar  at  Scepsis.  Aristophanes 
of  Byzantium,  the  celebrated  grammarian  of  Alexandria  in  the  early 
part  of  .the  second  century  before  Christ,  made  an  abridgement  of  his 
Zoological  works,6  and  also  wrote  commentaries  apparently  on  these, 
or  some  other  of  his  works  relating  to  Natural  History.7  But  before 
his  time,  Antigonus  of  Carystus,  under  Ptolemy  Euergetes  (B.  c.  247- 
222),  in  his  *  Collection  of  Wonderful  Stories,'  quoted  largely  both 
from  these  and  from  the  works  of  Theophrastus  on  similar  subjects. 
Kopp  says  that  he  used  not  only  these,  but  also  the  work  on  Foreign 
Customs  (/3ap/3apa  vo/zt/ia),  and  that  the  same  is  probable  both  of 

1  Brandis,  pp.  270,  272—275. 

8  De  Stoic.  Repugn,  p.  1045,  fin. 

8  Brandis,  pp.  246,  247. 

4  To  the  passages  illustrative  of  this  position  collected  by  Baguet,  De  Chrysippi 
Vit£,  Doctrina,  et  Keliquiis,  pp.  170,  181,  Brandis  adds  Aristol.  Phys.  Ausc.  iv. 
10—14. 

3  Simplicius  ap.  Brandis,  p.  247,  note  30. 

6  ra  irepl  tpvcreus  &uv.     Hierocles  cited  by  Schneider,  Prsef.  ad  Hist.  Arist. 
p.  xviii. 

7  Artemidorus,  Oneirocr.  ii.  c.  14,  on  which  see  Schneider,  p.  xix. 


ARISTOTLE.  159 

Callimachus  and  Nicander,1  and  he  acutely  remarks,  that  the  reason 
that  the  works  on  the  Parts  of  Animals  and  the  Generation  of  Animals 
are  not  so  often  cited  as  the  History,  is  that  the  latter  furnished  far 
more  materials  for  works  that  would  possess  a  general  interest,  whereas 
the  former  necessarily  implied  a  certain  knowledge  of  physiology  in 
the  reader.  But  that  they  could  not  have  remained  unknown  while 
the  latter  was  published,  is  evident  from  the  circumstance  that  .in  it 
the  author  frequently  refers  to  them.  Nor  were  the  writings  which 
related  to  physical  phenomena  the  only  ones  which  we  are  sure  reached 
Alexandria.  Andronicus  related,  that  in  the  great  library  there  were 
found  forty  books  of  *  Analytics  '  and  two  of  '  Categories,'  professedly 
the  work  of  Aristotle.  Of  the  former  of  these  four  only,  of  the  latter 
one — in  both  instances  those  which  we  have — were  decided  upon  by 
the  ancient  critics  to  be  genuine.2  Besides  which,  the  "Alexandrian 
writers,  who  formed  canons  of  classical  poets,  historians,  and  philoso- 
phers, included  Aristotle  among  the  last,  surely  not  on  the  strength 
either  of  his  mere  reputation,  or  only  of  his  exoteric  works. 

But  what,  after  all,  was  the  nature  of  these  exoteric  wrritings  ;  for  Nature  of  the 
we  are  now  obviously  come  to  a  point  at  which  the  accurate  determi-  SingL 
nation  of  this  question,  which  the  continuity  of  the  narrative  has  hith- 
erto prevented,  becomes  necessary.     We  shall  endeavour  to  be  as 
brief  as  possible  in  our  answer. 

If  we  apply  to  Aristotle  himself  for  information,  we  shall  find  Aristotle's 
nothing  at  all  in  his  writings  to  confirm  the  popular  opinion  of  a  divi-  dlvlslon- 
sion  of  his  doctrines  into  two  classes,  the  one  of  which  was  communi- 
cated freely,  wrhile  the  other  was  carefully  reserved  for  those  disciples 
whose  previously-ascertained  character  and  talents  were  a  security  for 
their  right  appreciation  of  them.  Wherever  the  term  exoteric  occurs, 
it  is  with  reference  to  a  distinction,  not  of  readers,  or  hearers,  but  of 
questions  treated  on.  It  signifies  little  or  nothing  more  than  extrinsic, 
separate,  or  insulated.  That  facility  of  comprehension  as  regards  the 
main  subject-matter  was  not  necessarily  a  characteristic  of  such  works, 
appears  from  a  passage  in  the  'Metaphysics,'3  in  which  the  writer 
excuses  himself  from  touching  upon  the  doctrine  of  ideas  (or  constitu- 
ent forms)  any  more  than  the  order  of  his  work  demanded,  assigning 
as  a  reason,  that  his  views  on  this  particular  "  were  for  the  most  part 
familiar  from  the  exoteric  discourses"  It  is  notorious  that  this  was 
one  of  the  deepest  and  most  difficult  questions  of  the  ancient  philoso- 
phy, being,  in  fact,  the  point  where  the  schools  of  the  Academy  and 
the  Lyceum  diverged,  and,  consequently,  if  any  part  of  Aristotle's 
views  had  been  confined  to  a  chosen  few, — if  there  had  been  such  a 
thing  as  an  esoteric  coterie, — here  would  have  been  proper  matter  to 

1  Rheinisches  Museum,  vol.  iii.  pp.  95 — 98.      He  also  says  that  Aratus,  in  his 
Prognostics,  made  use  of  the  meteorological  works  of  Aristotle. 

2  Ammouius,  Simplicius,  and  David  the  Armenian,  cited  by  Brandis,  p.  250. 

8  P.  1076,  col.  1,  line  28,  Bekk.  re9pv\\nrai  ykp  TO  7roAA&  Kal  UTTCJ  rcDi/  e£a>Te- 
\6y<av.     Metaph,  xiii.  init. 


160  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

be  reserved  for  them.  Similarly,  in  the  Nicomachean  Ethics,1  he 
refers  his  readers  to  "  the  exoteric  discourses  "  for  an  analysis  of  the 
human  mind.  The  law  of  subordination  among  the  parts  of  a  com- 
posite whole,  as,  for  instance,  the  law  of  harmony  in  music,  is  another 
subject  which  he  considers  as  **  rather  proper  for  an  exoteric  investiga- 
tion.2 In  "  the  exoteric  discourses,"  he  discussed  the  philosophy  of 
life,  the  relative  importance  of  the  several  elements  which  go  to  make 
up  happiness,  and  the  conditions  which  the  social  relation  imposes  on  " 
a  mail3  And  in  the  same  he  proposes  that  an  examination  of  the 
idea  of  Time  should  be  gone  into.4  Here  then  we  have  ample  evidence 
that  the  most  abstruse  subjects,  physical,  metaphysical,  and  moral, 
were  treated  of  somehow  or  other  in  discourses  bearing  the  name  of 
exoteric,'  a  name  to  which  modern  usage  has  almost  indissolubly 
attached  the  notion  of  shallowriess,  if  not  something  like  fraud  also. 
Of  anything  like  freemasonry,  anything  amounting  to  a  severance  of 
knowledge  into  two  distinct  spheres,  the  one  to  be  inhabited  by  the 
vulgar,  the  other  by  choicer  spirits,  there  is  not  a  vestige.  If  any 
acroamatic  work  by  Aristotle  has  come  down  to  us,  the  Nicomachean 
Ethics  is  one.  Yet  in  it  is  nothing  requiring  such  profundity  of  re- 
flection or  sobriety  of  mind  as  would  be  demanded  by  the  psychological 
discussion  in  the  exoteric  work  to  which  the  author  refers.  And  as 
for  the  terms  by  which  Plutarch  and  Clement  of  Alexandria  denote 
that  class  of  works  which  they  place  in  contradistinction  to  the  exoteric, 
they  are  in  part  not  used  by  Aristotle  at  all,  and  in  part  used  in  a 
totally  different  sense.5  The  phrases  by  which  he  designates  such 

1  P.  1102,  col.  1,  line  26,  Bekk. 

2  Politic,  i.  p.  1254,  col.  1,  line  33,  Bekk.      Kal  yap  ev  rots  /*r?  jueTe'xou<n  fays 
^ffri  TIS  &pxni  °^ov  o-pfJ-ovias.  aAAa  ravra  jjiev  fff(as  efyrepiKwrepas  effTL  er/ceij/ecos. 

3  Politic,  p.  1323,  col.  1,  line  22,  Bekk.     In  a  remarkable  passage  (Sat.  iii. 
67-72)  the  Stoic  Persius  sums  up  all  the  great  questions  with  which  the  philosophy 
of  his  school  engaged.     The  parts  printed  in  italics  would  all  have  been  handled  by 
Aristotle  in  the  exoteric  discourses  to  which  he  in  this  passage  refers : — 

causas  cogrioscite  rerum  ; 

Quid  SUTTMS  ;  et  quidnam  victuri  gignimur ;  ordo 

Quis  datus ;  aut  metas  quam  mollis  flexus,  et  unde ; 

Quis  modus  argento;  quid  fas  optare  ;  quid  asper 

Utile  nummus  habet  •  patrice,  carisque  propinquis 

Quantum  elargiri  deceat ;  quern  te  Deus  esse 

Jussit  •  et  humand  qua  parte  locatus  es  in  re. 

It  is  apparently  to  this  work  of  Aristotle  that  Cicero  refers.     Acad.  ii.  42  5  DeFin. 
ii.  sec.  13,  iv.  18,  20,  26  ;  and  probably  De  Offic.  iii.  8. 

4  Phys.  Auscult.  p.  217,  col.  2,  line  31,  Bekk. 

5  Plutarch,   Vit.   Alex.  c.   7,  opposes  rbv   T]9iKbv  Kal  TroXiriKbv  \byov  to  a! 
airoppfiTcu  Kal  fiafivrepai  StSatr/caA-fat,  and  describes  these  latter  as  &s  oi  avtipes 

iSiws  aKpoapaTiKas  KOI  eiroTrriKas  Trpoffayopevovres  OVK  Qetyspov  els  TOVS 
TroAAous.  Clement  (Stronim.  v.  p.  575)  classes  Pythagoras,  Plato,  Epicurus,  the 
Stoics,  and  Aristotle  together  as  philosophers  who  concealed  a  part  of  their  opinions. 
\eyovffi  8e  «al  oi'A.piffroTf\ovs,  ra  /j.ev  effcarepiKa  elvai  ru>v  ffvyypa/ji.lu.dT(av 
,  ra  Se  Kowd  re  Kal  e'lcoTep^'  and  that  as  the  Pythagoreans  have  their 
y  and  p.aO'n/j.aTiKov,  so  the  Peripatetics  have  their  ev$o£ov  and  eVi<r- 
The  terms  ctK/Joa/xa-n/cbs,  eiroTrTiitbs,  ecrwrept/cbs,  and 


AEISTOTLE.  161 

works  as  appear  to  stand  in  opposition  to  the  exoteric,  are  Xo'yoi 
iywKXioi,  \oyoi  Kara  fylXocrofyiav  and  piOolog, — and  in  such  cases  we 
are  always  directed  to  scientific  treatises  containing  a  system  of  several 
parts  methodically  arranged  and  organically  cohering,  such  in  short  as 
would  be  formed  by  the  outline  of  a  continuous  course  of  lectures  on 
some  main  "branch  of  philosophy.  And  that  the  works  included  under 
the  name  acroamatic  or  acroatic  by  the  philosophers  since  the  time  of 
Andronicus  Rhodius,  were  of  this  description,  seems  most  probable,  Division  of 
not  only  from  the  appearance  presented  by  those  which  hav£  come  °^^go  hers 
down  to  us,  but  from  the  fact  that,  at  the  time  when  Greek  philosophy 
was  first  imported  into  Borne,  the  word  <k-poa<me  had  become  the 
technical  term  for  such  productions.  Crates  Mallotes,  who  came  to 
Rome  on  an  embassy  between  the  second  and  third  Punic  wars,  is 
spoken  of  by  Suetonius  in  terms  which  seem  to  show  that  a  similar 
distinction  to  that  which  obtained  in  Aristotle's  works,  prevailed  also 
in  his.1 

If  now  we  keep  steadily  in  view  this  distinction  which  it  is  plain  Primary  cha- 
that  Aristotle  himself  made  in  his  discourses,  the  distinction  between  ractenstics- 
cyclical,  methodical,  scientific  productions,  and  insulated,  independent 
essays,  we  shall  perceive  at  once  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  that,  with- 
out any  premeditated  design  on  the  part  of  the  author,  the  former  would 
only  be  appreciable  by  genuine  disciples,  those  who  were  able  and  will- 
ing to  afford  a  steady  and  continuous  application  to  the  development 
of  the  whole,  while  the  latter  might  be  understood  by  those  who 
brought  no  previous  knowledge  with  them,  but  merely  attended  to 
the  matter  in  hand  ;2 — that  the  one  required  a  severe  and  rigid  logic 
to  preserve  all  parts  of  the  system  in  due  coherence,  the  other  readily 
admitted  of  the  aid  which  the  imagination  affords  to  the  elucidation  of 
single  points,  but  which  often  becomes  mischievous  when  they  are  to 
be  combined ;  that  to  the  first  the  demonstrative  form  of  exposition 
would  alone  be  appropriate,  to  the  second  any  one,  narrative  or  dia-  secondary 
logic,  or  any  other,  which  might  be  most  fit  for  placing  the  one  matter  character- 
are  never  used  by  Aristotle,  and  the  word  airopfaros  only  in  the  ordinary  classical 
sense.  Even  the  phrase  e|a>Tept/cta  is  often  applied  by  him  not  in  reference  to  these 
discourses.  For  instance,  rois  e£cu0ez>  \6yois  (Polit.  p.  1264,  line  39),  "  with  dis- 
cussions foreign  to  the  subject:"  QurepiKT)  apx^l  (Id.  p.  1272,  line  19),  "external 
rule  :"  e|coTepo>  Triirrova-i  TCUS  irXticrTais  ruv  ir6hfO)V  (Id.  p.  1295,  line  32),  "  do 
not  apply  to  the  generality  of  states." 

1  Suetonius,  De  Cl.  Grammat.  cap.  2,  "plurimas  acroases  subinde  fecit,  assi- 
dueque  disseruit." — Here  is  obviously  a  distinction  intended  between  the  disserta- 
tions which  he  continually  delivered,  and  the  lectures  which  he  gave  from  time  to 
time. 

2  An  illustration  may,  perhaps,  be  useful  in  clearing  up  what  we  apprehend  to 
have  been  the  real  division.     For  the  demonstration  of  Pythagoras' s  celebrated 
theorem  (the  forty-seventh  proposition  of  the  first  book  of  Euclid)  the  whole  of  the 
preceding  part  of  the  book  is  requisite.     This,  then,  is  an  example  of  a  \6yos  Kara. 
<t>i\offofy(av.     But  in  the  particular  case  of  a  square,  the  property  of  the  square  of 
the  diameter  being  equal  to  twice  the  square  of  the  side,  may  be  directly  shown  to 
a  person  ignorant  of  geometry,  as  it  is  by  -Socrates  in  Plato's  dialogue,  Meno.    This 
we  conceive  might  be  described  as  a  \6yos  e|wrepi/cds. 

[G.  R.  P  ]  M 


162  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

to  be  illustrated  in  a  striking  light.  But  we  must  be  very  careful  not 
to  confuse  these  resulting  distinctions  with  the  primitive  one  from 
which  they  flowed,  and  still  more  not  to  suppose  that  they  were  the 
cause  of  it ;  for  we  shall  see  presently  that  want  of  attention  to  this 
caused  in  later  writers  first  of  all  most  inaccurate  expressions  as  to  the 
nature  of  this  celebrated  division,  and,  finally,  an  utterly  erroneous  view 
of  it,  and  of  the  spirit  in  which  it  originated. 

Cicero's  Cicero,  in  two  of  his  letters  to  Atticus,1  speaks  of  having  composed 

imitations.  ^wo  works  in  the  manner  of  Aristotle's  exoteric  ones.  The  points  of 
comparison  which  these  two  treatises  (the  '  De  Finibus  '  and  the  '  De 
Republica)  offer,  consist  in  the  dialogic  form  in  which  they  are  written, 
and  the  prefaces  which  serve  to  introduce  the  dramatis  personce  who 
carry  on  the  discussion  to  the  reader.  The  objections  interposed  by 
some  of  these  to  the  view  which  it  is  the  design  of  the  author  to  elu- 
cidate are  turned  into  a  means  of  bringing  it  out  in  stronger  and 
bolder  relief.  This  mode  of  treatment  in  the  hands  of  a  master 
obviously  offers  many  advantages.  The  dramatic  interest  keeps  the 
attention  of  the  reader  from  flagging ;  and  the  peculiar  obstacles  which 
the  differences  of  individual  temperament  not  unfrequently  interpose  to 
the  reception  of  any  doctrine  may  be  in  this  way  most  clearly  set  forth 
and  most  easily  removed.  The  dialogues  of  Plato  are  an  obvious  ex- 
ample of  this.  But  if  we  consider  the  '  De  Oratore,'  *  De  Finibus,' 
and  *  De  Republica '  of  Cicero  to  represent  with  tolerable  accuracy 
the  character  of  the  Aristotelian  Dialogues,  we  see  at  once  a  very  con- 
siderable change.  The  genial  productive  power  of  the  artist  has  given 
way  to  the  systematic  reflection  of  the  philosopher.  The  personages 
introduced  are  not  living  and  breathing  men,  with  all  their  feelings, 
prejudices,  and  individual  peculiarities,  they  are  mere  puppets  which 
speak  the  opinions  entertained  by  those  whose  name  they  bear.  These 
opinions  may  be  fairly  and  lucidly  stated,  they  may  be  backed  by  all 
the  pomp  and  power  of  rhetoric,  as  they  are  in  Cicero,  and  as  they 
probably  were  in  Aristotle,  but  the  speakers  have  no  life,  the  scene  no 
reality ;  and  in  spite  of  the  pains  taken  by  the  author  to  prevent  it  by 
allusions  to  particular  times,  places,  and  circumstances,  we  rise  from  the 
perusal  with  our  opinions  more  or  less  modified,  but  with  no  more  dis- 
tinct recollection  of  the  parties  by  whom  the  discussion  has  been  carried 
on  than  if  they  had  been  distinguished  by  the  letters  of  the  alphabet 
instead  of  the  names  of  known  characters.2  But  what  these  produc- 

1  Ad  Attic,  iv.  16.     Hanc  ego  de  Republica,  quam  institui  disputationem  in 
Africani  personam  et  Phili  et  Laelii  et  Manilii  contuli :  adjunxi  adolescentes,  Q. 
Tuberonem,  P.  Rutilium,  duo  Laelii  generos,  Scaevolam  et  Fannium.     Itaque  cogi- 
tabam,  quoniam  in  singulis  libris  utor  procemiis,  ut  Aristoteles  in  iis,  quos  e|<wTe- 

OIKOVS  vocat,  aliquid  efficere  ut  non  sine  causd  istum  appellarem,  &c Ad 

Attic,  xiii.  19.     Quse  autem  his  temporibus  scripsi,  Aristoteleum  morem  habent ; 
in  quo  ita  sermo  inducitur  ceterorum,  ut  penes  ipsum  sit  principatus.     Ita  confeci 
quinque  libros  irepl  reAcDj/,  &c.     On  the  same  principle  he  had  composed  his  books 
De  Oratore,  Epp.  Attic,  iv.  16,  Epp.  ad  Famil.  i.  9,  sec.  23. 

2  Bishop  Berkeley's  Hylas  and  Philonous  and  Minute  Philosopher  make  no  pre- 


ARISTOTLE.  163 

tions  have  lost  as  works  of  art,  they  have  gained  as  works  of  science. 

The  distinct  and  explicit  exposition  of  a  principle  which  prevents  them 

from  being  the  former,  is  a  merit  in  them  as  the  latter.     And  as  the 

dialogic  form,  even  where  it  fails  in  producing  the  dramatic  impression  Dialogic  form 

that  we  receive  from  Plato,  admits  to  the  fullest  extent  of  all  the 

assistance  which  rhetoric  can  afford,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  it  should 

have  been  selected  by  Aristotle  as  an  appropriate  one  for  many  or  even 

most  of  his  exoteric  treatises.1 

Neither  in  those  cases  in  which  he  adopted  this  form  can  we  be  style  of  the 
surprised  that  Aristotle  should  have  made  use  of  a  style,  which,  * 
however  unfit  for  the  purposes  of  a  rigidly  scientific  investigation,  is 
not  at  all  inappropriate  to  compositions  such  as  we  have  described. 
A  few  relics  (and  unfortunately  a  very  few)  have  come  down  to  us  of 
them  ;  about  thirty  lines  in  the  original  Greek  are  quoted  by  Plutarch2 
from  one  of  the  most  celebrated,  and  Cicero  has  in  a  Latin  dress  pre- 
served two  other  small  fragments.3  The  first  of  these  is  part  of  a 
treatise  either  addressed  to  Eudemus,  Aristotle's  disciple,  or  written 
on  the  subject  of  his  death,  and  from  the  nature  of  the  extract,  no  less 
than  from  the  name  it  bore,4  seems  to  be  upon  the  subject  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the  miserable  condition  of  man  while 
imprisoned  in  the  body,  as  compared  \vith  that  which  preceded  and 
will  follow  the  present  life.  Our  existence  on  earth  is  regarded  as  a 
punishment  inflicted  upon  us  by  the  gods;  and  in  support  of  this 
opinion  an  appeal  is  made  to  the  experience  of  the  human  race  mani- 
festing itself  to  that  effect  in  proverbs  and  mythological  tales.  The 
dead  are  represented  as  dwelling  in  a  higher  sphere  of  being  than  the 
living,  and  as  dishonoured  by  any  expressions  or  feelings  on  the  part 
of  the  latter  which  involve  an  opposite  opinion.  The  language  in 

tension  to  dramatic  effect.  The  very  names  of  the  collocutors  indicate  the  prin- 
ciples which  they  profess.  In  our  opinion,  Berkeley  has  acted  wisely,  but  would 
have  done  better  still  to  have  dropped  the  dialogic  form.  Harris's  three  treatises 
are  an  attempt  to  come  much  nearer  to  the  Platonic  dialogue,  and,  in  our  judgment, 
a  signal  failure. 

1  Cicero,  although  he  does  not  expressly  say  that  the  exoteric  works  were  all 
dialogues,  speaks  of  them  as  if  they  were  nearly  coextensive.  So  too  Ammonius 
(Introd.  ad  Categ.  sec.  2)  divides  the  regular  treatises  of  Aristotle  into  two  heads, 
,  ra  p.sv  avroTrp6ffu)ira  Kal  aKpoafj-ariKa-  ra  8e  Sia\oyiKa  Kal 
But  Simplicius  and  Pbiloponus  prevent  us  from  construing  their 


meaning  too  rigidly.  The  former  says,  Sixfi  5e  §ir)pr]/j.ev(t>v  avrov  ru>v  crvyypa/j.- 
fj.d.T<av,  els  re  ra  e^carepiKa,  oia  ra  iffropiKa  Kal  ra  5ia\oyiKa,  Kal  oAo>s  TO  /JLI] 
&Kpas  aKptfitias  <$>povr(£ovra,  —  /cat  ets  ra  a/cpoa^art/ca,  &c.  (ad  Phys.  Auscult. 
init.),  and  the  latter,  speaking  of  the  exoteric  writings,  says,  among  which  are  the 
Dialogues,  of  which  the  Eudemus  is  one  (ad  Arist.  De  Anima,  i.  138). 

2  De  Consolat.  ad  Apollon.  p.  115.  He  also  alludes  to  the  same  work  in  his 
Life  of  Dion,  cap.  22. 

8  De  Natural  Deorum,  ii.  37  ;  De  Officiis,  ii.  16. 

4  yEu5rj|Uos'  r)  Trepl  ^U^TJS.  It  is  probably  this  treatise  which  is  referred  to  in 
the  Nicomachean  Ethics,  p.  1102,  col.  1,  line  26,  and  which  was  quoted  by  Cicero 
in  his  Dialogue  Hortensius  (ap.  Augustin.  c.  Julian,  vol.  x.  p.  623,  ed.  Benedict). 
The  fragment  is  given  by  Orelli  in  the  seventh  volume  of  his  edition  of  Cicero's 
works,  pp.  485,  486. 

M2 


164  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

which  these  sentiments  are  embodied  is  of  proportionate  dignity  to 
the  theme:  it  is  totally  unlike  the  dry  and  jejune  style  in  which 
the  works  which  have  come  down  to  us  are  written ;  on  the  contrary, 
it  is  rather  diffuse  and  ornamented,  and  fully  enables,  us  to  understand 
the  expression  of  Cicero,  "Aristotle,  with  his  golden  flood  of  language,"1 
which,  judging  from  his  rigidly  demonstrative  works  alone,  we  should 
deem  singularly  inappropriate.  One  of  the  passages  preserved  in 
Cicero  is  even  more  gorgeous  and  eloquent  than  the  one  in  Plutarch, 
and  for  the  sake  of  the  subject  we  will  endeavour  to  give  some  notion 
of  its  rhythm  and  structure,  although,  of  course,  a  translation  twice 
removed  from  the  original  can  do  this  but  very  inadequately.  The 
argument  is  the  common  one  of  natural  theology,  the  evidence  which 
the  wonders  of  the  universe  afford  of  the  existence  of  an  intelligent 
Creator,  Aristotle's  reasoning  appears  to  be  directed  against  those 
who  asserted  that  such  an  inference  was  the  result  of  a  traditional 
belief  handed  down  from  generation  to  generation,  and  interpreting  all 
phenomena  into  an  accordance  with  itself.  He  attempts  by  an  illus- 
tration to  show  that  this  is  not  the  case,  but  that  it  proceeds  from  the 
natural,  conviction  of  the  human  mind,  unswayed  by  any  particular 
bias,  as  soon  as  its  attention  is  roused  to  these  objects.  "  Suppose 
there  to  exist,"  says  he,  "  a  race  of  beings,  who  had  always  inhabited 
a  region  in  the  heart  of  the  earth,  dwelling  in  fair  and  lordly  mansions 
adorned  by  statues  and  pictures,  and  provided  with  all  the  appliances 
of  luxury  in  which  those  whom  the  world  envies  abound,  but  who 
never  had  visited  the  surface.  Now,  if  these  had  heard  by  rumours  and 
hearsay  that  there  was  a  certain  Divine  power,  living  and  acting ;  and 
then  at  some  time  the  jaws  of  the  earth  were  to  open  and  allow  them 
to  quit  their  obscure  dwelling-place  and  come  forth  into  the  region 
which  we  inhabit, — then,  when  all  at  once  they  beheld  earth,  sea,  and 
sky,  the  enormous  clouds,  the  mighty  winds, — when  they  gazed  on 
the  sun,  and  perceived  how  vast,  how  beautiful  it  was,  how  potent  in 
its  operation,  how,  by  diffusing  its  light  through  the  whole  of  the 
heaven,  it  was  the  cause  of  the  day ; — when,  again,  after  night  had 
veiled  the  earth  in  darkness,  they  observed  the  whole  firmament 
studded  and  lit  up  with  stars,  the  moon  with  her  varying  phases,  now 
increasing,  now  waning,  and  all  rising,  and  setting,  and  running  on  their 
courses  steadily  and  unvaryingly  for  an  eternity  of  ages  ;  surely,  when 
they  beheld  all  this  they  would  believe  both  that  there  were  gods,  and 
that  these  mighty  works  were  from  their  hand  !"  The  passage  in  the 
4  De  Officiis '  appears  rather  to  be  a  summary  of  Aristotle's  expressions 
in  his  own  words  than  a  translation  like  the  above ;  but  even  there  the 
reader  will  easily  recognise  an  oratorical  structure  quite  unlike  what  is  to 

1  Veniet,  flumen  orationis  aureum  fundens.  (Aristoteles,  Acad.  Pr.  ii.  38.)  In 
another  passage,  Torquatus  alleges  that  his  adversary  is  prepossessed  against  Epi- 
curus, hecause  his  writings  are  deficient  in  those  "  ornaments  of  style "  which  he 
finds  in  Plato,  Theophrastus,  and  Aristotle.  (De  Fin.  i.  5.)  To  the  scientific 
works  this  description  is  about  as  applicable  as  to  the  Elements  of  Euclid. 


ARISTOTLE.  165 

be  found  in  any  of  the  philosopher's  works  which  have  come  down 
to  us. 

From  these  few  and  meagre  specimens  of  the  exoteric  works  of  Popularity  of 
Aristotle,  we  may  observe  without  any  difficulty  that  in  every  respect  ^^oietic 
they  were  calculated  in  a  rhetorical  and  superficial  age,  such  as  that  of 
the  successors  of  Theophrastus  was,  to  supersede  the  others.  Litera- 
ture became  fashionable  in  high  places.  Philosophers  thronged  to 
the  courts  of  an  Antigonus,  a  Ptolemy,  or  an  Attains,  and  exerted 
themselves  in  making  royal  roads  to  knowledge  for  the  sake  of  their 
patrons.  A  general  acquaintance  with  the  doctrines  of  the  school  to 
which  they  attached  themselves  was  all  that  these  latter  could  pretend 
to,  and  the  instructor  soon  found  out  that  very  little  more  would  be 
sufficient  for  himself.  Why  should  he  bestow  time  and  labour  on 
what  would  not  be  available  to  his  purposes  ?  Why  should  he  trouble 
himself  with  thinking  out  the  results  which  he  could  find  ready  pro- 
vided to  his  hand  ?  Above  all,  why  should  he  neglect  works  which 
supplied  food  to  his  fancy  and  grace  to  his  style,  agreeably  and  lucidly 
written,  and  generally  acceptable  in  literary  society,  for  the  dry 
and  laborious  systematic  treatise,  whose  only  merit  was  its  rigidly 
logical  connexion.  The  very  discipline  of  the  Lyceum,  as  we  have 
shown  in  an  earlier  part  of  this  essay,  contributed  its  share  to  the  work 
of  deterioration,  by  producing  an  unconscious  indifference  to  the  truth 
of  opinions  provided  only  they  were  plausible  and  coherent ;  and  the 
vanity  of  possessing  a  multifarious  knowledge  lost  the  only  check 
which  could  have  restrained  it.  The  age  of  thought  gave  way  to  an 
age  of  mere  accumulation  of  learning ;  and  in  such  a  one  what  could 
attract  any  man  to  works  like  Aristotle's  scientific  ones  ?  In  the  time 
of  Cicero  a  considerable  impulse  had  certainly  been  given  to  philosophy. 
Yet  how  instructive  is  the  story  which  he  relates  in  the  introduction 
to  his  'Topica!'  His  friend  Trebatius  had  stumbled  while  looking 
over  his  library  upon  the  '  Topica '  of  Aristotle,  of  which  he  had  never 
heard,  and  on  learning  from  Cicero  the  nature  of  the  work  was  seized 
with  a  strong  desire  to  read  it.  The  obscurity  of  the  book  repelled  Difficulty  of 
him,  and  an  eminent  rhetorician  to  whom  he  applied  for  assistance  ^  sc 
told  him  that  of  those  works  of  Aristotle  he  knew  nothing.  "  This  I 
was  by  no  means  surprised  at,"  says  Cicero,  "  that  a  rhetorician  should 
know  nothing  of  a  philosopher,  of  whom  philosophers  themselves,  with 
the  exception  of  a  very  few,  knew  nothing"1  And  although  Cicero 
deservedly  prides  himself  upon  being  the  introducer  of  Greek  philosophy 
among  his  countrymen,  it  is  extremely  questionable  whether,  with  the 
exception  of  those  works  which  have  a  direct  application  to  oratory, 
his  knowledge  of  Aristotle  was  not  confined  to  the  exoteric  writings. 
It  is  certainly  these  which  he  takes  as  his  model  and  his  basis  in  his 
own  philosophical  works. 

Where  a  writer's  opinions  are  studied  rather  than  his  principles  and 

1  Topica,  i.  1.    So,  too,  in  a  fragment  in  Nonius,  voce  contendere,  he  says,  Magna 
etiam  animi  contentio  adhibenda  est  explicando  Aristoteli. 


ones. 


166  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

imputed  method,  where  readers  do  not  take  the  trouble  to  put  themselves  upon 
between  n's  standing-ground,  to  enter  into  his  thoughts,  and  follow  them  out 
Aristotle's  through  the  ramifications  of  his  system,  there  will  often  appear  a  want 
of  harmony  between  the  results  at  which  he  arrives.  There  is  a  point 
from  which  all  these  will  appear  in  their  true  perspective ;  but  this 
point  is  on  an  eminence  which  it  requires  both  time  and  labour  to 
ascend.  Such  a  want  of  agreement  in  his  results  was  imputed  to 
Aristotle  at  an  early  period,  before  the  time  of  Cicero,  who  notes  it 
and  gives  a  partial  explanation  of  it.  "  On  the  subject  of  the  chief 
good,"  says  he,  "  there  are  two  kinds  of  works,  the  one  written  in  a 
popular  manner,  and  termed  by  them  exoteric,  the  other  worked  up 
with  greater  care  (limatius),  which  they  left  in  the  form  of  notes 
(quod  in  commentariis  'reliquerunt).  This  makes  them  thought  not 
always  to  say  the  same  thing;  although  in  the  upshot  there  is  no 
variation  at  all,  in  those  at  least  whom  I  mentioned  [Aristotle  and 
Theophrastus],  nor  do  the  two  differ  the  one  from  the  other."1  Here 
Cicero  only  speaks  of  those  works  which  the  author  kept  by  him  and 
continually  made  additions  to,  a  class  of  works  which  did  not  form  a 
Exoteric  and  large  proportion  of  the  scientific  ones.2  But  it  is  quite  plain  that  the 
esoteric  doc-  remark  might  be  extended  to  the  whole  of  these  latter :  in  every  one 
of  them  might  be  found  instances  where  Aristotle  might  u  appear  not 
to  say  the  same  thing  "  as  in  his  more  popular  publications,  but  where 
at  the  same  time  "  in  the  upshot  there  w^ould  be  no  variation  at  all." 
Now  here  we  have  the  fact  which  formed  the  basis  of  the  subsequent 
opinion  that  Aristotle  had  an  inner  and  an  outer  doctrine,  an  opinion 
which  gathered  strength  and  distinctness  as  it  passed  from  one  hand 
to  another,  and  is  in  modern  times  repeated  with  a  confidence  that 
would  lead  one  to  suppose  that  it  rested  on  the  explicit  assertion  of 
the  author  himself.  Neither  in  Strabo,  Plutarch,  nor  Gellius,  is  there 
any  hint  of  a  wilful  suppression  of  sentiments  on  the  part  of  Aristotle,3 
although  all  three  of  these  authors  allude  to  a  division  of  his  works 
into  two  classes  adapted  to  different  mental  qualifications  in  the  readers. 
Growth  of  In  Clement  of  Alexandria  appears  the  first  trace  of  any  such  notion, 
and  the  expressions  which  he  makes  use  of  are  hardly  sufficient  to 

1  De  Finibus,  v.  5. 

2  Aminonius  (Introd.  ad  Arist.  Categ.)  describes  those  writings  which  he  calls 
vTro/j-vrj/jiaTiKa,  answering  to  Cicero's  Commentarii,  as  common-place  books  kept  by 
Aristotle  for  his  own  use,  some  of  them  devoted  to  one  subject,  some  miscellaneous. 
Simplicius  says  of  them  (Proleg.  in  Cat.),  So/ce?  Se  TO  vTTOp.vnfJia.TiKO.  /*))  irdvrr) 
o-TrouSyjs  &£ia  eivai.     He,  however,  does  not  seem  to  know  much  about  them  him- 
self, for  he  quotes  Alexander  Aphrodisias  as  his  authority.     But  all  the  ancient 
commentators  are  agreed  in  making  the  acroamatic  works  a  separate  and  more 
important  class  than  the  hypomnematic. 

3  The  word  aTrdpfara  may  seem  opposed  to  this  statement  (Plut.  Vit.  Alex, 
sec.  7),  but  it  seems  only  intended  to  indicate  those  writings  which  were  not  pub- 
lished, and  which  were  kept  secret,  not  because  they  contained  peculiar  doctrines, 
but  from  the  same  reasons  which  prevent  any  man  from   showing  a  work   yet 
growing  under  his  hands  to  any  but  his  particular  friends.     One  of  these  works 
was  the  Rhetoric,  as  has  been  remarked  by  Niebuhr  in  a  note  to  the  History  of 
Eome,  vol.  i.  p.  19,  Eng.  Trans. 


ARISTOTLE.  167 

justify  us  in  concluding  that  he  had  any  decided  opinion  on  this  score.1 
But  it  was  a  view  which  would  not  fail  to  be  caught  hold  of  in  an  age 
singularly  attached,  as  the  declining  Roman  empire  was,  to  mystical 
orgies  and  secret  associations.  Before  Clement,  indeed,  Lucian  had 
taken  advantage  of  it  for  the  purposes  of  a  jest,  where,  in  his  *  Sale  of 
Philosophers,'  he  puts  Aristotle  up  to  auction  as  a  double  man  ;2  but 
obviously  this  is  only  a  ludicrous  version  of  the  fact  that  his  works 
were  of  very  different  kinds,  stated,  as  very  likely  the  later  Aristotelians 
would  themselves  be  fond  of  doing,  in  a  paradoxical  form.  Nay,  even 
when  we  get  down  to  the  close  of  the  fourth  century,  to  the 
rhetorician  Themistius,  a  very  great  allowance  must  be  made  for  the 
conceits  of  his  affected  style,  before  we  form  our  estimate  of  his  real 
sentiments.  No  one  can  dream  of  taking  in  their  literal  sense  such 
phrases  as  those  of  "  Aristotle  shutting  up  and  fortifying  his  meaning 
in  a  rampart  of  obscure  phraseology,  to  secure  it  from  the  ravages  of 
uninitiated  plunderers;"3  or  "considering  that  knowledge  was  like 
food  and  drugs,  one  sort  proper  for  the  healthy,  another  for  the  sick," 
and  therefore  "  involving  his  meaning  in  a  wall  of  cloud,  the  doors  of 
which  two  guardians,  Perspicuity  and  Obscurity,  like  the  Homeric 
Hours,  stood  ready  to  open  to  the  initiated  and  close  upon  the  pro- 
fane."4 But  after  making  all  proper  allowance,  there  is  no  question 
that  in  the  time  of  Themistius  the  opinion  of  a  double  meaning  of  Establish- 
Aristotle  was  widely  received.5  Ammonius  in  the  fifth  century  thinks  mentofthe 

i  .   .  i  TIT/-    opinion  or 

it  necessary  to  state,  apparently  in  opposition  to  the  popular  belief,  Aristotle's 
"  that  the  Dialogues  of  Aristotle  differ  very  much  from   the  direct  duPllclty- 
treatises  (airoTrpoo-wTra) ;  that  in  the  latter,  as  directing  his  discourse 
to  genuine  students,  he  not  only  delivers  his  real  opinions,  but  employs 
the  severest  methods,  such  as  people  in  general  cannot  follow ;  while 
in  the  latter,  as  they  are  written  for  general  use,  he  delivers  his  real 
opinions,  but  employs  methods  not  rigidly  demonstrative,  but  of  the 
kind  that  the  generality  of  people  are  able  to  follow."6     But  his  scholar 
Simplicius  no  longer  swims  against  the  tide  ;  he  asserts  that  in  the 
"  acroamatic  works  Aristotle  aimed  at  obscurity,  in  order*  through  it 

1  Stromm.  loc.  supra  cit.     After  speaking  of  double  doctrines  of  the  Pythago- 
reans, Plato,  Epicurus,  and  the  Stoics,  he  adds,  \eyovffi  5e  Kal  ol  'ApttTToreAous 
TO  yuev  etrcorepiKa  elt/a:  TU>V  ffvyypa^p.ar(av  ai>Ta>v,  TO.  8e  Koivd  re  Kal  e'|a?Tepi/ca, 
where  the  true  reading  would  seem  to  be  avrov  instead  of  avrwv. 

2  Vol.  iii.  p.  112,  ed.  Bipont. 

3  Orat.  xxiii.  p.  294. 

4  Orat.  xxvi.  p.  319.    The  allusion  is  to  Iliad,  v.  750  ;  and  there  are  some  others 
in  the  context,  equally  tasteless  and«strained,  to  the  marshalling  of  the  Median  army 
by  Cyaxares  (Herod,  i.  98),  and  to  the  palace  of  Agbatana  with  its  concentric 
sevenfold  walls.     (Herod,  i.  98.) 

5  One  great  reason  of  this,  no  doubt,  was  the  desire  of  reconciling  him  with  Plato, 
which  is  observable  in  Themistius,  and  was  by  his  time  the  great  object  of  phi- 
losophers.    See  especially  Orat.  xx.  pp.  235,  236.     Utterly  unable  to  ascend  to  the 
point  which  would  enable  them  to  appreciate  both,  they  endeavoured  to  establish  a 
spurious  agreement  by  the  help  of  fictions  like  this. 

6  Ammonius,  loc.  supra  cit. 


168  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

to  repel  the  more  indolent  from  him."1  The  wit  of  the  satirist 
and  the  flourishes  of  the  rhetorician  were  thus  translated  into  plain 
prose ;  and  from  this  time  forward  the  duplicity  of  Aristotle's  doc- 
trines may  be  considered  as  reckoned  among  the  most  indisputable 
facts. 

Qualification  Having  now  thoroughly  satisfied  ourselves  that  the  narrative  of 
>f  Strabo's  Strabo  requires  much  qualification,  we  may  inquire  whether  there  is 
any  part  of  it  which  is  consistent  with  what  from  other  sources  we 
know  really  was  the  case.  And  there  seems  nothing  to  prevent  us 
from  believing  that  Neleus's  heirs  really  possessed  some  books  which 
had  belonged  to  Aristotle  and  Theophrastus, — that  Apellicon  pur- 
chased these,  and  that  they  were  brought  by  Sylla  to  Rome,  and  there 
first  made  known  to  people  in  general.  But  that  these  were  works 
of  any  great  importance  we  have  seen  could  not  be  the  case ;  nor  was 
the  decay  of  the  Peripatetic  school  owing  to  the  want  of  them.  A 
part  of  the  story  relates  to  matters  of  fact,  for  which  Strabo  is  a  most 
respectable  witness ;  a  part  to  a  matter  of  opinion,  on  which  he  is  no 
authority  whatever.  The  one  half  is  reconcilable  with  the  fact  that 
the  principal  acroamatic  works  of  Aristotle  were  in  the  hands  of  his 
successors  and  in  the  library  at  Alexandria,  during  the  interval 
between  Neleus  and  Apellicon ;  it  is  in  accordance  with  the  notice  of 
Athenaeus  that  Ptolemy  bought  the  libraries  of  Aristotle  and  Theo- 
phrastus; and  with  various  other  stories  which,  having  a  less  ob- 
vious bearing  upon  the  question,  we  have  omitted  for  the  sake  of 
brevity  in  their  proper  place,  but  which  will  be  found  stated  shortly 
below  in  the  note.2  The  other  is  inconsistent  with  these  and  many 
other  facts,  and  may  be  rejected  without  invalidating  the  reputation 
of  Strabo  either  for  veracity  or  accuracy  as  regards  matters  which 
came  within  his  knowledge — a  reputation  which  we  should  be  the  last 
persons  to  desire  to  destroy.  What  then  was  the  nature  of  these 
documents,  the  preservation  of  which  was  the  foundation  for  so  re- 
markable a  story  ?  We  can  only  guess  an  answer,  but  we  will  never- 
theless make  the  attempt. 

Character  of       Athenseus,3  quoting  from  the  work  of  Posidonius  the  historian,  a 
ti£eTeian      contemporary  of  Pompey  the  Great,  gives  a  sketch  of  the  character  of 
Apellicon,  which  will,  perhaps,  throw  a  light  upon  this  question.     A 

1  Ad  Auscult.  Physic,  fol.  2,  6,  line  22. 

2  I.  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  mentions  it  as  a  prevalent  opinion  that  Demo- 
sthenes owed  his  skill  in  oratory  to  the  study  of  Aristotle's  Rhetoric,  and  takes  some 
trouble  to  prove,  by  quotations  in  that  work  from  Demosthenes,  that  all  his  famous 
Orations  (the  twelve  Philippics,  as  they  were4  called)  were  delivered  before  that 
work  was  written.     (Ep.  i.  ad  Ammseum.)     II.  Theophrastus  corresponded  with 
Eudemus  concerning  certain  errors  in  the  copies  of  the  fifth  book  of  the  Physical 
Lectures   (Andronicus   Rhodius,   ap.    Simplicium,    quoted  by   Brandis,  p.  245). 
III.  Valerius  Maximus  relates  that  Aristotle  first  of  all  gave  his  Rhetoric  to  a 
favourite  scholar,  Theodectes,  and  that  it  was  published  under  his  name ;  but  that 
his  greediness  for  reputation  afterwards  induced  him  to  claim  it  for  himself,  by 
quoting  from  it  in  another  work  as  his  own  production  (viii.  14). 

3  Athenaeus,  v.  cap.  liii.  pp.  214,  215. 


ARISTOTLE.  169 

man  of  vast  wealth  and  restless  disposition,  and  an  adopted  citizen  of 
Athens,  he  appears  to  have  alternately  plunged  himself  into  the 
turbulent  politics  of  his  time,  and  cultivated  literature  in  a  spurious 
kind  of  way.  His  taste  for  letters  was  a  mere  bibliomania,  and 
brought  him  into  trouble.  He  purchased,  while  the  fit  for  philosophy 
was  upon  him,  "  the  Peripatetic  books  and  the  library  of  Aristotle, 
and  a  great  many  others,  being  a  man  of  large  property.  Moreover 
he  surreptitiously  obtained  possession  of  the  ancient  original  decrees 
of  the  Assembly,  which  were  preserved  in  the  temple  of  the  Mother 
of  the  Gods,  and  from  the  other  cities  too  he  got  hold  of  whatever 
was  ancient  and  curious."  This  theft  obliged  him  to  save  his  life  by  His  passion 
flying  the  country :  in  the  troublous  times,  however,  which  soon  fur  cunositie 
after  succeeded,  he  contrived  to  procure  his  recall  by  joining  the  party 
of  the  demagogue  Athenion.  This  individual  had  induced  his  country- 
men to  take  a  part  in  the  confederacy  which  Mithridates  had  organized 
against  the  power  of  Rome.  In  an  evil  hour  Apellicon  quitted  book- 
collecting  for  military  service.  He  took  the  command  of  an  expedi- 
tion against  Delos,  which  was  occupied  by  Orbiits  the  Roman  praetor ; 
but  displayed  such  utter  ignorance  of  the  commonest  duties  of  a  com- 
mander that  his  enemy  soon  found  an  opportunity  of  attacking  him 
unawares,  destroyed  or  captured  the  whole  of  his  troops,  and  burnt 
all  the  machines  which  he  had  constructed  for  storming  the  city. 
The  unfortunate  dilettante  escaped  with  his  life,  but  died,  in  what 
way  is  not  known,  before  Sylla  stormed  Athens,  and  seized  on  the 
library  which  had  cost  him  so  dear.1  It  seems  almost  certain  from 
this  account  of  Apellicon,  that  it  was  the  possession  not  of  the  works 
but  of  the  autographs  of  them  which  was  the  attraction  to  him.  Can  what  the 
we  then  conceive  that  it  was  the  original  autographs  of  Aristotle  and  5  Aristotle* 
Theophrastus  which  he  purchased  from  the  representatives  of  Neleus's  were  which 
family  ? — Autographs  of  what  wTorks  ?  Not  of  the  exoteric :  for  these 
were  so  generally  known  that  he  would  have  had  no  difficulty  in 
filling  up  the  gaps  which  the  damp  and  worms  had  caused  in  his 
copy.  Nor  of  the  systematic  treatises  ;  for  if  the  original  manuscript 
of  these  had  existed,  Andronicus  would  have  had  no  difficulty  in 
determining  what  was  by  Aristotle,  and  what  not,  in  the  various  cases 
where  that  question  arose.  Of  neither  of  these  classes  of  writing- 
then  can  we  imagine  that  the  story  of  Strabo  is  to  be  understood. 
But  if  we  suppose  Aristotle  to  have  left  behind  him,  as  every  literary 
man  whose  energies  last  to  the  end  of  his  life  will  do,  collections  on 
various  subjects,  rough  draughts  of  future  works,  common-place  books, 
some  of  a  miscellaneous  nature,  some  devoted  to  particular  matters, 
containing,  it  may  be,  extracts  from  other  writers,  references  to  their 
opinions,  germs  of  thoughts  hereafter  to  be  worked  out,  lines  of 
argument  merely  indicated; — it  is  very  conceivable  that  these  docu- 
ments, so  long  as  a  healthy  and  lively  philosophical  spirit  existed  in 
the  Peripatetic  school,  would  receive  very  little  attention.  If  they 
1  Stahr,  Aristotelia,  ii.  p.  119. 


170 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


were  too  fragmentary  and  unsystematic  for  publication  they  would 
remain  in  the  possession  of  Theophrastus  and  Neleus,1  too  curious 
to  destroy,  too  unfinished  to  make  any  use  of;  and  if  the  heirs  of 
Neleus  were  illiterate  men,  they  would  see  nothing  in  them,  but 
so  many  slovenly  and  disjointed  scrawls,  and  not  dream  of  putting 
them  among  the  sumptuous  collection  of  books  which  they  sold  to 
king  Ptolemy.  But  in  the  time  of  Apellicon,  the  state  of  things  was 
changed.  The  relics  of  the  founder  of  the  school  would  have  acquired 
a  sacred  character ;  and  unsaleable  as  they  might  have  been  to  Ptolemy, 
who  appears  to  have  been  a  real  lover  of  literature  and  not  a  mere 
book-fancier,  would  fetch  a  good  price  with  the  purchaser  of  stolen 
records.  And  it  is  not  at  all  inconsistent  with  this  view,  that  a 
person  whose  acquaintance  with  philosophy  was  of  such  a  kind,  should 
mistake  the  nature  of  the  documents  he  had  got  hold  of, — "  attempt 
to  supply  the  gaps  when  he  transcribed  the  text  in  new  copies, — fill 
these  up  the  reverse  of  well, — and  send  the  books  out  into  the  world 
full  of  mistakes."8 

Such  is  the  theory  which,  it  appears  to  us,  will  reconcile  the  vary- 
ing accounts  respecting  Aristotle's  writings,  and  which,  while  it  sweeps 
away  all  that  is  adventitious  in  the  statement  of  the  Greek  geographer, 
will  leave  his  testimony  substantially  unimpaired.  And  this  theory 
is,  in  fact,  confirmed  by  the  state  in  which  some  of  the  works  of 
Aristotle  have  come  down  to  us.  For  some  of  these  are  not  merely 
books  kept  by  the  author,  and  continually  worked  at,  like  the 
'  Rhetoric,'  and  Theophrastus's  '  History  of  Plants,'  nor  are  they  mere 
notes  for  lectures,  a  dry  skeleton  of  the  subject,  complete  in  them- 
selves, and  only  requiring  the  illustration  and  development  which  would 
be  supplied  by  the  extemporaneous  efforts  of  the  instructor.  Neither 
of  these  two  descriptions  will  explain  all  the  phenomena  which  strike 
the  reader  in  the  '  Poetics'  and  the  *  Politics,'  as  these  two  treatises  are 
Nature  of  the  found  in  our  manuscripts.  Neither  of  them  complete  the  discussion 
'Poetics8 'and  °f  *ke  range  °f  topics  which  they  promise;  and  it  is  impossible  to 
receive  as  a  satisfactory  explication  of  this  fact  that  they  are  only 
fragments  of  complete  works  of  which  the  remainder  has  been  lost. 
This  is  quite  incompatible  with  what  we  find  in  them,  namely,  redun- 
dancies— whole  paragraphs  recast,  and  standing  together  with  those 
for  which  they  seem  meant  as  a  substitute.3  Such  appearances  are 
only  to  be  understood  on  the  supposition  that  the  work  in  which  they 

1  Parts  of  some  of  them  may  very  likely  have  been  incorporated  by  Theophrastus, 
Strabo,  and  others  in  works  of  their  own — a  proceeding  which,  in  those  days,  would 
not  have  been  considered  a  plagiarism.     Such,  too,  was  doubtless  the  case  with  all 
mere  collections,  such  as  the  Problems  and  the  book  irepi  Qavpaffiuv  a/coucr/uaTwj/, 
which,  as  we  have  it  now,  probably  contains  additions  from  several  hands. 

2  Strabo,  toe.  supra  cit. 

3  A  remarkable  instance  of  this  is  Politic,  iii.  p.  1287,  col.  1,  line  1,  col.  2,  line 
36,  which  the  passage  p.  1285,  col.  2,  line  37,  p.  1286,  col.  2.  line  40,  is  obviously 
intended  to  supersede.     The  latter  is  a  more  digested  and  orderly  arrangement  of 
the  topics  in  the  former. 


Reconcilia- 
tion of  the 
several 
notices  on 
the  subject. 


AEISTOTLE.  171 

occur  was  an  interleaved  draught  of  a  future  treatise,  itself  never 
published  (nor  yet  intended  for  publication)  by  the  author.  In  such 
a  case  we  should  expect  to  find  what  we  do  find  here,  and  certainly 
not,  to  the  same  extent,  in  any  other  work, — scholia  containing 
archaeological  or  historical  notes  inserted  in  the  midst  of  metaphysical 
divisions,  imperfect  analyses,  defective  enumerations,  tacit  references 
to  writings  of  others  or  to  opinions  current  at  the  time,  allusions  to 
questions  treated  on  by  the  author  in  the  work,  which  are  nowhere 
to  be  found,  gaps  where  obviously  something  was  to  be  inserted,  and 
expressions  so  slovenly  as  to  be  almost  or  wholly  ungrammatical. 
To  give  instances  of  all  these  incongruities  would  extend  this  article 
to  a  much  greater  length ;  and  therefore  we  must  oblige  our  readers 
to  take  the  assertion  on  our  credit,  assuring  them  that  an  attentive 
perusal  of  the  works  will  supply  them  with  several  instances  of  each.1 
And  if  we  suppose  them  to  be  note-books  devoted  to  the  particular 
subjects  on  which  they  treat,  kept  by  the  author  until  the  materials 
they  contained  had  been  worked  up  and  published  in  a  complete  form, 
and  then  discarded  by  him,  we  shall  see  in  what  relation  they  pro- 
bably stood  to  the  works  read  by  Cicero,2  and  named  in  the  catalogues 
of  Diogenes  Laertius  and  the  anonymous  biographer,3  and  understand 
what  kind  of  writings  those  in  all  probability  were,  which  descended 
with  the  rest  of  Aristotle's  library  to  Theophrastus,  and  from  Theo- 
phrastus  to  INeleus,  which  were  neglected  by  the  librarians  of  Ptolemy 
Philadelphus,  and  emerged  from  their  obscurity  in  the  vault  of 
Scepsis  to  be  purchased  by  the  antiquarian  Apellicon.  Only  in 
making  this  estimate  we  must  not  forget  the  different  importance 
which  such  writings  possess  for  us,  deprived  for  ever  of  those  which 
were  formed  out  of  them, — and  for  their  author  and  his  immediate 
successors,  to  whom  they  would  appear  in  no  other  light  than  the 
scaffold,  by  the  aid  of  which  the  cathedral  has  been  erected,  does  to 
the  architect.  And  perhaps  we  may  properly  imagine  that  the  greater 

1  We  must  stipulate,  however,  that  the  investigator  shall  not  make  use  of  any 
text  previous  to  that  of  Bekker  for  this  purpose.     The  former  editors,  partly  from 
the  want  of  MSS.,  and  partly  from  ignorance  of  the  style  of  thought  and  language 
peculiar  to  their  author,  have  made  strange  havoc  with  these  writings. 

2  De  Legg.  iii.  6  ;  De  Divin.  ii.  1 ;  Epp.  ad  Quint.  Frat.  iii.  5. 

3  Diogenes  quotes  irepl  TTOITITUV  in  three  books,  Trpcry^uareia  rexvns  TTOI^TIK^S  in 
two  books,  TronjTt/ca  in  one  book  (perhaps  the  treatise  we  have),  Trepl  rpaywSitov  in 
one  book — all  of  which  had  some  relation  to  the  Poetics ;  and  TTO\ITIKOS  in  two 
books,  inrfp  a-roiKoav  in  one  book,  irepl  j8o(TtAeias  in  one  book,  Trepl  irajSetas  in  one 
book,  olKovop.iKbs  in  one  book,  TroAmwa  in  two  books,  iroAmKT?  a/cp<Weis  wv  rj 
®fO(f>pd<Trov  in  eight  books,  Trepl  SiKaitav  in  two  books,  St/ccuco/^ara  in  one  book, 
and  one  hundred  and  fifty-eight  constitutions  of  democratic,  oligarchal,  aristocratic, 
and  monarchical  states,  all  having  some  bearing  on  the  Politics.     To  these,  perhaps, 
may  be  added,  from  the  anonymous  writer,  irepl  ewyej/ei'as  in  one  book,  Trept  avff- 
airiuv  i)  (Tv^troffiuv  in  one  book,  6e<reis  TroAm/ccu  in  two  books,  iroAm/cr/  a/cp<Wis 
in  twenty  books,  TpvAAos  in  three  books,  Si/ccuaJjUara  ir^Aeai/  in  one  book.     How- 
ever these  writings  may  have  been  confused  by  the  unskilful  epitomizers  of  Her- 
mippus,  it  is  quite  plain  that  Aristotle  wrote  a  great  deal  more  on  both  these 
subjects  than  has  come  down  to  us. 


172  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

fulness  of  these  procured  their  preservation  after  they  were  recovered, 
while  many  others  of  the  same  kind,  but  yet  further  removed  from 
completeness,  were  suffered  to  perish. 

Literary  We  will  conclude  this  memoir  by  a  brief  literary  notice  of  the  works 

"Sting  * ie  published  under  the  name  of  Aristotle,  in  the  order  in  which  they  are 
writings  of    given  in  the  edition  of  the  Berlin  Academy. 

Aristotle.        r   T     /f~t_        •         /  /  t  * ' 

I.  Lategones.    (mrf/ycpm,    or  jcan/yopmi  Trept   T&V  dtKo.  yeriKw- 

TCLT<I)V  y£vwi>.)  The  genuineness  of  this  work  was  much  disputed  in 
the  time  of  the  old  commentators.  Adrastus  found  a  work  on  the 
same  subject,  bearing  the  name  of  Aristotle,  and,  singularly  enough, 
consisting  of  exactly  the  same  number  of  lines.  It  was,  however,  de- 
termined to  be  genuine  by  them,  with  the  exception  of  the  last  part, 
which  treats  on  what  the  Latin  logicians  term  the  '  Postpragdicamenta.' 
This  extends  from  the  tenth  chapter  to  the  end.  The  work  of  Harris, 
called  '  Philosophical  Arrangements,'  is  an  exposition,  very  much  in 
the  manner  of  the  old  commentators,  of  this  treatise.  A  short  but 
most  masterly  critique  on  it  will  be  found  in  Kant's  *  Kritik  der  reinen 
Vernunft,'  p.  79.  Adrastus  wished  to  call  the  work  ra  Trpo  ru>v 
roTrtjcwj/,  considering  it  as  merely  an  introduction  to  the  '  Topics,'  a 
proposition  which  Porphyry  disapproves  of. 

II.  On  Interpretation,  (jrepl  ep/ir/veme.)     A  philosophical  treatise 
on  grammar,  as  far  as  relates  to  the  nature  of  nouns  and  verbs.     Some 
of  the  old  commentators  from  its  obscurity  imagined  it  to  be  a  mere 
collection  of  notes,  and  Andronicus  considered  it  not  to  be  Aristotle's. 
Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  however,  and  Ammonius,  prove  it  to  be 
his,  and  to  have  been  used  by  Theophrastus  in  a  treatise  of  the  same 
name  which  he  wrote. 

III.  Former  Analytics,  (i.  n.)    Latter  Analytics,  (i.  n.)  (avaXvrt/ca 
Trporepa,  ava\vm*a  iWfpa.)     Of  the  former  of  these  treatises  the 
true  and  ancient  title  was  Trept  o-vXXoyioyiov,  and  that  of  the  latter 
7T£pt  a7roc)a££W£.     The  old  commentators  found  forty  books  on  this 
subject,  professedly  by  Aristotle,  and  determined  on  the  genuineness 
of  these  only,  rejecting  all  the  rest.     Their  subject  is  that  which  in 
modern  times  is  especially  termed  logic,  but  would  be  more  properly 
called  dialectics,  that  is,  an  examination   of  the  possible  forms  in 
which  an  assertion  may  be  made,  and  a  conclusion  established. 

Theophrastus,  Eudemus,  and  Phanias,  scholars  of  Aristotle,  wrote 
treatises  on  the  same  subjects  as  these  three  of  their  master,  and  called 
by  the  same  name,  a  circumstance  which  probably  had  some  con- 
nexion with  the  number  of '  Analytics'  ascribed  to  him. 

IV.  Topics,  (i.  n.  m.  iv.  v.  vi.  vn.  vin.)  (roTrtm.)     An  analysis 
of  the  different  heads   from    which   demonstrative   arguments  may 
be  brought.     It  was  considered  by  the  ancient  commentators  as  the 
easiest  of  all  Aristotle's  systematic  works.     The  Romans,  however, 
as  Cicero  tells  us  in  the  preface  to  his  work  of  the  same  name,  found 
it  so  difficult  as  to  be  repelled  by  it,  although  he  himself  praises  it  no 
less  for  its  language  than  for  its  scientific  merits.     His  own  work  is 


ARISTOTLE.  173 

an  epitome  of  it,  made  by  himself  from  memory,  during  a  sea  voyage 
from  Velia  to  Rhegium. 

V.  On  Sophistical   Proofs,    (i.  II.)    (?r£pt    aotyiariKuv  eXey^wi/.) 
An  analysis  of  the  possible  forms  of  fallacy  in  demonstration.     This 
work  has  a  natural  connexion  with  the  *  Topics,'  as  Aristotle  himself 
remarks  in  the  beginning  of  the  last  chapter  of  the  second  book. 

The  preceding  works  taken  together  complete  Aristotle's  logical 
writings,  and  with  Porphyry's  Introduction  to  the  '  Categories,'  have 
gone  generally  in  modern  times  by  the  name  of  the  '  Organum,'  from 
the  circumstance  of  Aristotle  having  called  logic  opyavov  opyavw. 
The  philosopher  gave  this  name  to  the  art,  because  of  all  others  it  is 
the  most  purely  instrumental,  that  is,  the  most  entirely  a  means  to 
something  else,  and  the  least  an  end  to  be  desired  for  its  own  sake. 
The  term,  however,  was  in  subsequent  ages  misapplied  to  mean 
that  it  was  the  best  of  all  instruments  for  the  discovery  of  truth,  as 
opposed  to  the  observation  of  facts,  and  the  art  was  correspondently 
abused. 

VI.  Physical   Lectures,    (i.  n.  in.  iv.  v.  vi.  vn.  vm.)    (^ucrtfo) 
ctKpocHTic.)     It  is  a  very  questionable  thing  whether  this  treatise  was 
published  by  the  author  as  one  organic  whole.     The  three  last  books 
probably   formed   a   treatise    by   themselves    under   the   name   Trcpt 
lavj/orfwc;,1  and  the  first  five  another  under  that  of  tyvaiKa.     Again  of 
these  the  first  one  is  quite  independent  of  the  rest,  and  is  devoted  to 
the  discussion  of  the  first  principles  (ap^ca),2  to  which  everything  in 
nature  may  be  resolved.      This  book  is  extremely  valuable  for  the 
history  of  philosophy  before  the  time  of  Aristotle.     He  discusses  in  it 
the  theories  of  Melissus,  Parmenides,  Anaxagoras,  Empedocles,  and 
others.     The  second  is  taken  up  with  an  examination  of  the  ideas  of 
Nature,  Necessity,  and  Chance  ;  and  the  next  three  with  the  properties 
of  Body,  or  rather  with  the  analysis  of  those  notions  of  the  under- 
standing which  are  involved  in  the  idea  of  Body.     Of  this  work  ab- 
stracts and  syllabuses  (fce^aXata  KOI  avvo^u^)  were  very  early  made 
by  the  Peripatetic  school,3  and  these  keeping  their  attention  fixed  upon 
the  connexion  of  a  system  of  dogmas,  contributed  perhaps  much  to 
divert  them  from  the  observation  of  nature,  and  to  keep  up  that  con- 
fusion between  laws  of  the  Understanding  and  laws  of  Nature  which 
pervades  the  whole  of  the  ancient  physical  speculations. 

VII.  On  the  Heavens,  (i.  n.  m.  iv.)  (vrept  ovpavov.)   Alexander 
of  Aphrodisias  considered  that  the  proper  name  for  this  work  was  Trtpl 
Kofffj.ov,  as  only  the  first  two  books  are  really  on  the  subject  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  and  their  circular  motion.     The  two  last  treat  on  the 

1  Sim  pi.  ad.  Phys.  Auscult.  f.  216.     Diogenes,  however,  gives  a  work  (irepl 
Kij'Tjo-eoJs)  in  two  books.     This  is  not  conclusive  against  the  opinion  quoted  in  the 
text.     See  below,  the  notice  respecting  the  Rhetoric. 

2  Perhaps  it  is  to  this  book  that  the  title  nepl  apx^s,  in  Diogenes'  Catalogue, 
refers. 

3  Simplicius,  Introd.  ad  Phys.  Ausc.  vi.  and  vii. 


174  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

four  elements  and  the  properties  of  gravity  and  lightness,  and  afford 
much  information  relative  to  the  systems  of  Empedocles  and  Demo- 
critus. 

VIII.  On    Generation   and  Decay,  (i.    n.)    (7^    yereffewg    rat 
fydopag.)     This  work  treats  on  those  properties  of  bodies  which  in  our 
times  would  be  considered  to  be  the  proper  subject  of  physiological 
and  of  chemical  science.     Many  other  notions,  however,  of  a  meta- 
physical nature  are  mixed  up  with  these,  and  it  is  only  for  its  illustra- 
tion of  the  history  of  philosophy  that  this  work,  like  the  rest  of  the 
physical  treatises,  is  of  any  value  to  the  modern  student. 

IX.  Meteorology,    (i.  n.  HI.  IV.)   (peTtupoXoytKa.)     The  first  of 
these  books  was  by  some  in  the  time  of  the  old  commentators  held 
not  to  be  genuine;  and  Ammonius  and  others  considered  that  the 
fourth  should  immediately  follow  the  second  of  the  last  treatise,  with 
which  the  subjects  on  which  it  treats,  the  changes  effected  in  bodies 
by  heat  and  cold,  moisture  and  dryness,  &c.,  are  certainly  more  con- 
nected. 

X.  To  Alexander,  on  the  World,  (wept  Koarpov  irpoQ  'AXt'favdpov.) 
The  titles  of  this  tract  in  the  various  MSS.  differ  much  from  one 
another.  In  one  it  is  called  irepi  KoapoypafylaQ  ;  in  another  TTE^I  Koapov 
KCU  Irepwv  avayKai(t)v  ;  in  a  third  GVVO^IQ  0iAo<ro0/ae  Trepi  KO<TJJ,OV  ; 
in  Stobffius  e.7n<TTo\rj  -rrepl  TOV  Travroc,  which  Fabricius  holds  to  be  the 
true  title.     He  considers  the  work  to  be  genuine,  contrary  to  the 
opinion  of  Scaliger,  Salmasius,  Casaubon,  Voss,  andBuhle.  Fabricius's 
opinion  has  been  taken  up  by  Weisse,  but  the  spuriousness  of  the 
piece  is  glaring.     Stahr  ('  Aristoteles  bei  den  Roemern,'  p.  165,  et 
seq.)  has,  as  we  think,  satisfactorily  shown  that  it  is  in  all  probability 
a  composition  of  very  late  date,  based  upon  Apuleius's  work  '  De 
Mundo,'  which  has  sometimes  been  taken  to  be  a  translation  of  it. 

XI.  On  the  Soul.  (i.  II.  in.)  (irtpl  \^v^ijg.}     In  the  first  of  these 
books  are  discussed  the  opinions  of  preceding  philosophers  upon  this 
subject  ;  in  the  second,  the  Soul  in  its  sensible  relations  ;  in  the  third, 
in  its  rational  ones.     A  celebrated  dialogue  of  Aristotle's,  to  which 
we  have  before  referred,1  bore  this  same  title  ;  and  such  as  consider 
that  the  exoteric  works  were  all  in  the  form  of  dialogues,  imagine  that 
in  the  Nicomachean  Ethics  he  alludes  to  it.     At  the  same  time  there 
are  parts  of  the  third  book  of  this  treatise  which  seem  apt  for  his  pur- 
pose in  that  place;  and  although  the  work  serves  to  make  up  that 
system  of  Aristotle's  to  which  the  preceding  physical  treatises,  as  well 
as  the  following  belong,  it  is  sufficiently  independent  of  them  to  allow 
of  its  being  perfectly  understood  without  their  perusal  ;  a  character 
which,  in  our  opinion,  is  the  only  essential  one  of  an  exoteric  writing. 

XII.  Eight  tracts  on  physical  subjects,  namely, 
(a.)   On  Perception  and  Objects  of  Perception,  (jrepl 


(b.)   On  Memory  and  Recollection,  (^epl  jj.vfjjj.nG  /ecu 
1  P.  163. 


ARISTOTLE.  175 

(c.)    On  Sleep  and  Waking,  (rrepl  VTTVOV  Kal  eypr/yo'po-fwc.) 

Sd.)   On  Dreams,  (-repl  tvvirviuv.) 
e.)   On   the    Prophetic    Vision   in   Sleep,   (irepl    rijc   jcafl'   VTTVOV 


(f.)   On  Length  and  Shortness  of  Life.  (nepl  jua/C|Oo/3tor??roc  /ecu 


(g.)    On  Youth  and  Age,  Life  and  Death,  (jrepl  VEOTTITOQ  icai 
KOI  Trepl  £(t)ij£  Kal  0avarov.) 

(h.)    On  Respiration.  (Trepl  avaTrvorjs.) 

XIII.  On  Breath.   (rrepl  TOV  Trvevfj.aroQ.)     This  treatise,  of  which 
the  subject  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  last  mentioned,  except  that  there 
is  more  reference  in  it  to  the  lower  animals,  has  been  considered  by 
many  not  to  be  by  Aristotle.     Sylburg  considers  the  style  to  point  to 
Alexander  of  Aphrodisias  as  its  author.     Meursius  thought  it  pro- 
bably to  be  by  Theophrastus,  and  Patritius  by  Strato,  principally 
because  such  a  book  is  mentioned  by  Diogenes  among  the  writings  of 
these.     Fabricius  considers  it  to  be  Aristotle's,  because  Aristotle  him- 
self, in  his  treatise  '  On  the  Motion  of  Animals,'  appears  to  allude  to 
it,  and  Galen  quotes  it  as  his.     But  neither  of  these  two  passages  are 
quite  conclusive. 

XIV.  Accounts  of  Animals,  (l  .......  x).   (irepl  ra  £wa  icrropiat.} 

This  work  is  variously  entitled  in  the  manuscripts,  rrepl  £&W  iaropia, 
TU>V  Trepl  £wu)v  icrropia.  Pliny  ('  Nat.  Hist.'  viii.  17),  where  he  speaks 
of  Aristotle's  magnificent  work  '  On  Animals,'  in  fifty  books,  appears 
to  include  together  with  this  all  the  treatises  on  natural  history  which 
follow  it  (and  indeed  are  naturally  connected  with  it),  as  well  as  some 
on  comparative  anatomy,  now  lost.     The  same  may  be  said  of  Cicero's 
notice  of  them  (*  De  Fin.'  v.  4.)     This  work  was  illustrated  by  dia- 
grams of  the  several  parts  of  animals,  which,  together  with  the  neces- 
sary explanations,  perhaps  formed  a  treatise  by  themselves.    They  are 
alluded  to  in  several  passages  by  the  phrases  r/  kv  avaroucuz  cJmypa^r;- 
at  avaTOfj-ai-  at  ava.TOfj.al  ^laytypajUjufVm.      Schneider,  who  has  pub- 
lished an  edition  of  this  work,  most  learnedly  illustrated  as  regards  the 
subject,  not  perceiving  in  it  any  traces  of  the  injury  which  Aristotle's 
works,  according  to  Strabo's  account,  received,  was  induced  to  con- 
sider it  as  one  of  the  exoteric  publications.     But,  in  fact,  the  whole  of 
the  works  on  natural  history  are  as  closely  connected  with  one  another 
as  the  several  parts  of  the  '  Organum,'  and  it  would  be  difficult  to 
assign  any  reason  why  the  one  class  should  be  regarded  as  exoteric 
and  the  other  not  so. 

XV.  On  the  Parts  of  Animals.  (Trepl  tyuv  popicjv.)  (l.  II.  in.  iv.) 

XVI.  On  the  Movement  of  Animals,  (-repl  £&W  Ktrrj^ewg-) 

A  curious  tract  investigating  the  influences  which  operate  ab  extra 
upon  animals.  This  treatise,  together  with  the  one  following,  and 
that  'On  Breath,'  are  often  put  together  with  the  eight  tracts 
before  mentioned  (No.  XII.),  and  make  up  what  is  called  the  '  Parva 
Naturalia.' 


176  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

XVII.  On  the  Locomotion  of  Animals.  (Kepi  Tropa'ae 

XVIII.  On  the  Engendering  of  Animals,  (i.  II.  in.  IV.  V.) 


XIX.  On  Colours,  (vrept 

This  has  been  considered  by  some  critics  to  be  the  work  of  Theo- 
phrastus.  Plutarch  speaks  of  a  treatise  by  Aristotle  of  the  same  name 
in  two  books. 

XX.  From  the  Book  on  Sounds.  (EK  rov  nepl  a.Kov<rr<5v.') 
Apparently  a  fragment  ;  although  Porphyry,  who  has  preserved  it 

in  his  commentary  on  the  '  Harmonicon'  of  Ptolemy,  says  that  he  has 
given  the  whole  work. 

XXI.  Physiognomica.  (^tmoyroyura.) 

Of  this  tract  the  last  chapter  of  the  '  Former  Analytics'  is  a  sort  of 
compendium.  Buhle  considers  it  spurious.  It  is  not  mentioned  by 
any  of  the  old  commentators,  but  is  by  Stobaeus  and  by  Diogenes 
Laertius  in  his  catalogue. 

XXII.  On  Plants,  (i.  u.)  (vrtpi  <£urw>'.) 

Aristotle  wrote  two  books  on  plants,  but  not  these  which  we  have. 
They  are  a  translation  into  Greek  from  the  Latin  ;  and  even  this  ver- 
sion was  considerably  removed  from  a  Greek  original,  having  been 
made  by  some  Gaul  from  an  Arabian  version,  which,  again,  was  only 
derived  from  a  more  ancient  Latin  translation.  The  original  of  all 
these,  according  to  Scaliger,  was  only  a  cento  of  scraps,  taken  partly 
from  Aristotle,  and  partly  from  the  first  book  of  Theophrastus's  '  His- 
tory of  Plants.'  Aristotle's  work  was  already  lost  in  the  time  of 
Alexander  of  Aphrodisias. 

XXIII.  On  Wonderful  Stories.  (Trepi  flav/iao-iW  <k-ovo-/ua7-wi>.) 
This  book,  in  spite  of  its  title,  is  nothing  more  than  a  collection  of 

strange  accounts,  nor  does  it  appear  to  have  formed  a  part  of  a  larger 
work  of  at  all  a  different  description.  The  latter  part  is  obviously 
spurious,  and  with  respect  to  the  remainder  various  opinions  have 
been  held.  Dodwell  considers  Theophrastus  to  have  been  the  author  ; 
Scaliger,  Aristotle.  Buhle  regards  the  whole  as  a  patchwork  of 
extracts  from  the  works  of  the  latter.  Our  opinion  is  that  the  germ 
of  the  work  is  to  be  looked  for  in  one  of  those  note-books  or  I/TTO/ZV?/- 
/mra  which  were  appropriated  to  collections,  and  from  which  supplies 
were  occasionally  drawn  for  more  systematic  works  ;  and  that  this 
was  in  its  transmission  down  to  our  times  added  to  by  several  hands, 
and  some  of  these  most  unskilful  ones.  See  our  notice  of  the  '  Pro- 
blems '  below.  (No.  XXV.) 

XXIV.  Mechanics,  (/ur/^avtfca.) 

The  first  part  of  this  work  touches  upon  the  principles  of  me- 
chanics, and  is  followed  by  a  number  of  questions,  which  are  resolved 
by  a  reference  to  them.  This  latter  part  is  probably  only  a  few  of 
the  7rpo/3/\j?/Liara  cyjcvArXta,  or  questions  on  the  whole  cycle  of  science, 
which  we  find  mentioned  as  a  work  of  Aristotle's,  in  two  books,  by 
Diogenes  Laertius,  and  which  is  quoted  by  Aulus  Gellius. 


ARISTOTLE.  177 

XXV.  Problems.    (/T|Oo/3Xj//jara.) 

This  is  a  collection  of  questions  on  various  subjects,  in  thirty-eight 
divisions,  of  which  the  first  relates  to  medical,  the  fifteenth  to  mathe- 
matical, the  eighteenth  to  philological,  the  nineteenth  to  musical,  tho 
twenty-seventh  and  three  following  to  ethical,  and  the  rest  mainly  to 
physical  and  physiological  matters.  Theophrastus  is  also  said  to  have 
compiled  a  collection  of  problems;  and  Pliny  quotes  him  as  the 
authority  for  a  circumstance  which  we  find  mentioned  in  this  work.1 
In  his  treatises,  too,  Trepl  KOWV  and  Trepl  t^pwrwy,  there  are  several 
coincidences  with  the  '  Problems '  of  Aristotle  ;  and  hence  some  have 
held  him  really  to  be  the  author  of  these,  while  others  have  con- 
sidered those  works  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  patchwork  of  Aris- 
totle's '  Problems.' 

Besides  the  7rpoy6Xr;/iara  ty/cv/cXia,  which  we  mentioned  under 
the  last  head,  Diogenes  mentions  two  books  of  TrpofiXrjpara  eTrire- 
deapeva  ('Problems  reviewed'),  and  two  of  7rpo/3X///zara  ex  rwy 
A^juofv-piVov ;  and  Plutarch  and  Athenseus,  and  other  authors,  quote 
from  his  7rpoft\rip,ara  <f>v&LKa.  That  the  work  which  has  come  down 
to  us  is  neither  any  one  of  these,  nor  the  aggregate  of  them  all,  is 
certain.  Sylburg,  in  his  preface,  points  out  several  instances  in  which 
Aristotle  himself  speaks  of  questions  discussed  in  them,  which  will 
be  looked  for  in  vain  in  the  present  treatise.  Neither  do  we  find 
some  of  the  quotations  made  by  Aulus  Gellius,  Macrobius,  Apuleius, 
and  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias.  On  the  other  hand,  some  citations 
which  Gellius  makes  from  the  Trpo^X^para  ty/cv/cXta,  and  one  of 
Macrobius  from  the  TrpoGXrj^ara  <£ven*:a,  are  found.  So  are  two 
citations  by  Cicero,  and  one  by  Galen,  quoting  generally  from  the 
*  Problems.'  These  circumstances  indicate  that  the  work  has  been 
very  much  changed  since  it  came  from  Aristotle's  hands ;  and  the 
most  plausible  hypothesis  seems  to  be  that  the  nucleus  of  the  work 
is  a  selection2  of  the  collections  of  Aristotle,  and  that  Theophrastus 
added  to  it  in  its  course  down  to  us.  There  are  many  repetitions  to 
be  found  in  it,  some  even  three  times  over  with  the  change'  of  only  a 
few  words ;  there  is  a  great  difference  of  style  observable  in  several 
parts;  in  many  of  the  more  ancient  manuscripts  parts  are  omitted  and 
others  differently  arranged ;  and  as  regards  the  philosophy,  it  is  im- 
possible to  suppose  that  a  part  could  proceed  either  from  Aristotle  or 
Theophrastus,  or  from  any  philosopher  of  an  undegenerate  age.  A 
great  deal  is  no  doubt  due  to  the  bookmakers  under  the  Roman 
empire :  it  was  a  work  particularly  well  suited  to  the  manufacture  of 
such  miscellanies  as  the  taste  of  that  time  delighted  in,  and,  with  the 
exception  of  the  works  on  natural  history,  appears  to  have  been  by  far 
the  most  generally  known  of  any  of  the  Aristotelian  writings  at  that 
time.  These  circumstances  render  it  necessary  for  the  historian  of 

1  Prob.  xxxiii.  12  ;  Plin.  Hist.  Nat.  xxviii.  6. 

2  Aristophanes,  the  Alexandrian  grammarian,  epitomized  or  otherwise  abridged 
Aristotle's  collection  of  Proverbs. 

[G.  E.  P.]  N 


178  GEEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

philosophy  to  be  extremely  cautious  how  he  infers  the  opinions  of 
Aristotle  upon  any  subject  from  it. 

XXVI.  On  Indivisible  Lines.  (Trepi  aro/zwv  ypajujuw*'.) 

This  tract  is  said  by  Simplicius  to  have  been  by  some  of  the  ancient 
commentators  ascribed  to  Theophrastus. 

XXVII.  The  Quarters  and  Names  of  the  Winds.  (aW/zcuv  Qiaeic 

KCLl   TTpOOT/yOpiat.) 

A  fragment  from  Aristotle's  work  7T£pi  ertyzc/wv  xt-i/iwvwv,  men" 
tioned  by  Diogenes  in  his  catalogue.  This  is  found  in  some  manu- 
scripts of  Theophrastus's  work,  but  Salmasius  considers  it  to  be 
Aristotle's. 

XXVIII.  On  Xenophanes,  on  Zeno,  on  Gorgias.  (Trepi  EevotyavovQ, 
Trepi  ZrjwvoQ,  7T£pi  Fopy/ov.) 

This  fragment,  according  to  Brandis,  is  the  only  one  of  all  the 
works  which  have  come  down  to  us  under  the  name  of  Aristotle's, 
which  presents  the  least  indication  of  that  treatment  which  the  manu- 
scripts are  said  to  have  met  with  at  the  hands  of  Apellicon.  This, 
too,  and  the  4  Mechanics,'  are  the  only  works  which  Patritius  allowed 
to  be  genuine.  It  is  singular  that  one  of  the  manuscripts  ascribes 
it  to  Theophrastus.  Another  gives  as  a  title  Kara  rat  3o£ae  rwv 

lAo<7O0WJ'. 

XXIX.  The  Metaphysics,    (i.  II  .......  xiv.)    (TO.  pera   ra 


This  collection  of  treatises  is  said  to  have  been  called  by  Andronicus 
by  this  name,  because  when  he  endeavoured  to  group  the  works  of 
Aristotle  together  systematically,  these  remained  after  he  had  com- 
pleted his  physical  cycle,  and  he  had  no  better  resource  than  to  put 
them  together  after  it.  Harris1  gives  a  different  account  of  the  names, 
which  he  grounds  on  a  passage  in  a  manuscript  work  of  Philoponus. 
Men,  he  conceives,  were  led  to  the  study  of  the  highest  causes  by  an 
ascent  from  the  contemplation  of  the  lower  or  physical.  Hence  the 
first  philosophy  which  treats  of  them  was,  from  being  subsequent  in 
time  to  these  physical  inquiries,  called  Metaphysical.  Brandis2  re- 
lates from  a  manuscript  commentary  of  Asclepius  (a  writer  of  no 
great  value),  that  Aristotle  had  during  his  lifetime  committed  the 
several  treatises,  the  aggregate  of  which  goes  by  this  name,  to  his 
scholar  Eudemus,  who  considered  that  they  were  not  in  a  fit  state  for 
publication;  but  that  after  his  death  subsequent  Peripatetics  (ot 
yueraytWorepoi)  endeavoured  to  work  them  up  into  a  whole,  supply- 
ing what  was  deficient  from  other  works  of  their  founder.  Whatever 
may  be  the  truth  of  this  story,  it  is  unquestionable  that  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  several  books  is  merely  arbitrary  ;  and  several  variations 
have  been  proposed,  among  others  one  by  Petiti,  which  we  annex, 
with  the  addition  of  those  works  named  by  Diogenes  Laertius  in  his 
catalogue,  which  he  conceived  to  be  identical  with  the  several  parts  of 

1  Additional  note  to  the  second  of  The  Three  Treatises,  pp.  364,  365. 

2  Rhein.  Mus.  i.  p.  242,  note  (19). 


ARISTOTLE. 


179 


this  work.  In  the  Greek  manuscripts,  the  first  book  is  denoted  by 
the  letter  (A) ;  the  second,  not  by  the  letter  (B),  but  by  (a) ;  the 
third  by  (B) ;  the  fourth  by  (F)  ;  and  so  regularly  on  to  the  four- 
teenth. 


Greek 

MSS. 

Du  Val's 
arrange- 
ment. 

Petiti's 
arrange- 
ment. 

Works  tiled  by  Diogenes  Laertius 
corresponding  to  the  several  parts  of 
the  Metaphysics. 

1 

1 

5 

Trepl  apxtov,  d. 

2 

2 

3 

Trepl  e7r£(TTr)yUcDi/,  d. 

3 

3 

6 

irepl  apxa)V,  ft'. 

4 

4 

4 

Trepl  €7rt(rT77;uct>i>,  ft'. 

5 

5 

1 

Trepl  T&V  Trocra^ws  \eyo/J.ev<av. 

6 

7 

6 

7 

7 
8 

\            >                              i 
(Trepl  eiotSu  iced  yevooVy  ft. 
) 

8 

8 

9 

Trepl  v\f]s.1 

9 

9 

10 

irepl  evepyetas. 

10 

10 

2 

T]  eK\oyr]  rcav  evavrlfav. 

11 

13 

14 

Trepl  e7Ti(rTi7yU77S. 

12 

14 

13 

Trepl  <pi\o(ro<f>ias,  d. 

13 

11 

11 

irepl  <piXocro(pias,  ft'. 

14 

12 

12 

TT  epl  <pi\offo<pias,  y'. 

The  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  books  are  not  found  in  the  old  Latin 
version,  or  that  of  Argyropylus.  The  second  book  (a  of  the  Greek 
MSS.)  was  considered  by  some  of  the  ancient  commentators  to  be 
the  work  of  Pasicrates  the  Rhodian,  brother  of  Eudemus.  Alexander 
of  Aphrodisias  says  that  it  is  by  Aristotle,  but  is  mutilated.  Others 
have  held  that  it  is  a  sort  of  scholium,  and  that  its  proper  place  is  as 
a  preface  to  the  second  book  of  the  '  Physical  Lectures.'  And  the 
circumstance  of  its  being  denoted  by  so  singular  a  mark  in  the  manu- 
scripts would  lead  us  to  conclude  that  some  opinion  of  this  sort  was 
widely  received. 

XXX.    Nicomachean  Ethics,  (i.  n.  in x.)  ($9i 


This  is  one  of  the  most  perspicuous,  as  well  as  most  valuable,  of 
the  works  of  Aristotle  which  has  come  down  to  us.  Although  in  a 
scientific  form,  there  is  a  reference  throughout  to  practical  utility  ;  and 
Aristotle  himself  seems  to  avow  that  he  has  sacrificed  some  of  the 
rigidness  of  his  method  to  this  consideration.  It  is,  however,  un- 
equalled to  this  day  as  a  treatise  on  morals.  On  the  subject  of  the 
name  different  accounts  are  given.  Most  of  the  ancient  commentators 
assert  that  it  was  so  called  by  Aristotle  because  inscribed  to  his  son 
Nicomachus.  Cicero  appears,  as  we  have  seen,  to  consider  the  son 
the  author.  Petiti  endeavours  to  show  that  the  treatise  was  written 
at  a  time  when  Nicomachus  was  not  born.  It  was  probably,  like 
the  '  Rhetoric,'  worked  at  by  the  author  after  having  been  published, 

1  These  are  not  mentioned  by  Diogenes. 


180  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

and  this  will  account  for  some  of  those  passages  which  he  considers  to 
be  interpolations  by  him. 

XXXI.  The  Great  Ethics,  (i.  II.)  (fjQiKa  jueyaXa.) 

XXXII.  The  Eudemian  Ethics,    (i.  n.  in.  iv,  v.  vi.  vn.)    (fiOwa 


This  work  was  in  ancient  times  attributed  to  Theophrastus  or 
Eudemus.  The  third  and  three  following  books  agree  considerably, 
both  in  subject  and  style,  with  the  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  of  the 

*  Nicomachean  Ethics.'    Some  of  this  agreement  may  be  artificial,  and 
arise  from  the  transcribers  interpolating  the  one  work  from  the  other. 
But  it  seems  highly  probable  that  both  this  treatise  and  the  '  Great 
Ethics/  are  books  made  up  from  the  notes  of  Aristotle's  scholars. 
They,  particularly  the  last  named,  which,  contrary  to  what  its  name 
would  lead  us  to  expect,  is  by  far  the  shortest,  seem  to  stand  in  very 
much  the  same  relation   to  the   'Nicomachean,'   as  the  little  book 

*  Anweisung  zur  Menschen-und-Weltkenntniss  '  (which  was  published 
by  a  scholar  of  Kant's  from  notes  of  a  course  of  lectures  delivered  by 
him)  does  to  the  work  '  Anthropologie  in  pragmatischer  Hinsicht,' 
which  the  philosopher  himself  published. 

XXXIII.  On  Virtues  and  Vices,   (-rrepl  aperuv  ical  KCLKIWV.) 

A  spurious  fragment,  preserved  by  Stobaeus.  The  author  is  by 
some  scholars  supposed  to  be  Andronicus  of  Rhodes  ;  but  others 
think  it  should  rather  be  attributed  to  a  platonizing  eclectic  of  later 
times. 

XXXIV.  Politics,  (i  .....  vin.)  (iroXiTiKa.) 

Of  this  work  we  have  given  our  opinion  in  an  earlier  part  of  the 
article  (p.  107). 

XXXV.  Economics,  (i.  II.)  (oZKovojuuca.) 

Of  Aristotle's  work  bearing  this  name,  Diogenes  Laertius  only 
mentions  one  book  ;  and  of  these  it  seems  quite  evident  that  both 
are  not  by  the  same  author.  Erasmus  held  the  first  to  be 
Aristotle's,  but  to  be  only  a  fragment  ;  but  Niebuhr  considers  that 
lately-discovered  authorities  prove  it  incontestably  to  be  by  Theo- 
phrastus. 

If  the  second  book  is  Aristotle's,  it  is  probably  a  collection  made 
by  him  when  collecting  materials  for  his  historical  and  philosophical 
writings  on  government.  It  is  chiefly  a  string  of  instances  of  oppres- 
sion exercised  by  one  people  upon  another,  or  by  tyrants  upon  their 
subjects. 

XXXVI.  The  Art  of  Rhetoric,  (i.  II.  III.)   (ri-^vi]  priropiKi'i.') 
Besides  these  books,  which    contain    his    exposition   of  the   art, 

Aristotle  wrote  one  other  which  contained  a  history  of  it  and  of  its 
professors  from  the  earliest  times  to  his  own.  Of  this  Cicero  speaks1 
in  the  highest  terms,  but  it  is  unfortunately  lost.  The  division  into 
three  books  is  ingeniously  conjectured  by  Stahr2  to  be  due  to  Andro- 

1  De  Invent,  ii.  2.     Compare  De  Orat.  ii.  38. 

2  Aristoteles  bei  den  Roemern,  p.  30. 


ARISTOTLE.  181 

nicus  of  Rhodes.  Some  of  the  MSS.  collated  by  Bekker  mark  this 
division  as  peculiar  to  the  manuscripts  of  the  Latin  arrangement. 
The  Greek  one  terminated  the  first  book  with  the  end  of  the  ninth 
chapter,  and  made  our  second  book  the  third.  Jonsius  conjectures 
that  the  treatise  mentioned  by  Diogenes  in  his  catalogue,  under 
the  title  Trtpi  <rv/-i/3ou\iae,  is  the  sixth  and  seventh  chapters  of  the 
first  book  of  this  work.  That  this  work  is  a  different  one  from  that 
which  Aristotle  is  said  to  have  made  over  to  his  scholar  Theodectes,1 
appears  from  a  passage2  in  which  he  quotes  that  treatise.  Hence  it 
would  seem  that,  independently  of  the  *  Rhetoric  to  Alexander,'  the 
author  of  which  is  uncertain,  Aristotle  published  three  distinct  works 
on  this  subject,  which  certainly  accords  with  what  Cicero  says,3  that 
the  Peripatetics  boasted  "  that  Aristotle  and  Theophrastus  not  only 
wrote  better,  but  wrote  much  more  on  the  subject  of  oratory  than  all 
the  professed  masters  of  the  science." 

But  it  seems  to  us  more  probable  that  the  work  which  he  cites  was 
one  by  Theodectes,  his  own  scholar,  and  that  Valerius  Maximus 
mistook  for  an  act  of  envy  what  was  more  probably  meant  and  taken 
for  a  flattering  encouragement.  The  first  sketch  of  the  '  Rhetoric  ' 
was,  as  is  remarked  by  Niebuhr,  published  long  before  it  was  worked 
up  into  the  form  we  have  it  in  now,  and  in  this  interval  Theodectes, 
of  whom  Cicero  speaks  as  a  writer  on  the  subject,  probably  published 
his  book.  It  will  be  observed  that  Aristotle  does  not  cite  the  treatise 
as  his  own  ;  but  this  was  overlooked  by  Valerius,  or  the  authority 
whom  he  followed,  and  the  tale  we  have  mentioned  above  was  coined 
to  illustrate  the  passage.  It  may  also  be  remarked  that  the  double 
publication  of  the  '  Rhetoric  '  will  serve  to  account  for  the  growth  of 
that  story  which  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  takes  so  much  pains  to 
refute.4  No  one  could  have  hazarded  such  a  fiction  with  all  the 
quotations  from  Demosthenes  under  his  very  eyes.  It  must  have 
originated  with  some  one  who  used  a  copy  of  the  early  edition  ;  while 
Dionysius  in  his  refutation  used  the  later. 

XXXVII.    The  Rhetoric  to  Alexander.     (prjro^Kri  Trpog 


t  This  treatise  is  not  mentioned  by  Diogenes  Laertius  in  his  catalogue 
of  Aristotle's  works  ;  and  the  dedicatory  preface  at  the  beginning  is  a 
solitary  instance,  if  it  be  a  writing  of  Aristotle's,  of  such  a  proceeding. 
Quintilian  appears  to  quote  it  as  the  production  of  Anaximenes  of 
Lampsacus,  a  contemporary  of  the  Stagirite.  Neither  the  style  nor 
the  treatment  of  the  subject  accords  with  the  character  of  the  last 
work  ;  and  perhaps  what  most  contributed  to  procure  its  ascription  to 
Aristotle  is  the  circumstance  that  the  writer  claims  the  authorship  of 
the  ri^vai  ry  GfoScKrij  ypa^eto-ai,  which,  according  to  the  story  of 


1  See  above,  p.  168,  note  2,  and  compare  Cicero,  Brut.  64. 

2  P.  1410,  col.  2,  line  2,  ed.  Bekker. 

3  De  Oratore,  i.  10. 

4  See  above,  p.  168,  note  2. 


182  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

Valerius  Maximus,  spoken  of  in  the  last  article,  could  only  belong  to 
Alexander's  preceptor.  In  spite  of  this,  Victorius  and  Buhle  have 
attributed  the  work  to  Callisthenes.  We  should  be  inclined  to  consider 
it  the  performance  of  a  sophist  of  a  very  late  date,  and  should  regard 
the  allusion  to  Theodectes  as  a  confirmation  of  the  opinion. 

XXXVIII.    On  the  Poetic  Art.     (Trepi  TroiTjrucT/e). 

On  the  subject  of  this  work  we  have  already  given  our  opinion.  It 
has  been  considered  by  some  a  fragment  of  the  two  books  '  On  Poets,' 
which  Macrobius  quotes,  but  it  hardly  seems  possible  to  consider  it 
in  this  light.  If  it  is  derived  in  any  way  from  a  published  work,  it 
must  have  been  by  a  process  of  epitomizing  and  selecting,  and  that  not 
very  skilfully. 


EPICURUS. 


BY 

ANDREW  FINDLATER,  AM. 


EPICURUS. 

FROM  B.  C.  341    TO   B.  C.  270. 

PART  I. — LIFE. 

EPICURUS  was  born  in  the  third  year  of  the  hundred  and  ninth  Olym-  Epicurus, 
piad,  seven  years  after  the  death  of  Plato.     His  birthplace  was  the  B°crn341> 
island  of  Samos,  to  which  his  father  had  removed  as  a  colonist  from 
Athens.     This  did  not  prevent  Epicurus  from  being  considered  an 
Athenian  by  birth,  and  as  belonging  to  the  deme  Gargettus  and  the 
tribe  J^geis.     Although  the  family  would  seem  to  have  been  origi-  His  parents, 
nally  not  without  distinction,  his  parents  were  in  rather  indigent  cir- 
cumstances.    His  father,  Neocles,  is  said  to  have  been  a  schoolmaster, 
and  his  mother,  Chcerestrate,  to  have  practised  arts  of  magic.     It  was 
afterwards  made  a  matter  of  reproach  to  Epicurus  that  while  young, 
when  his  mother  went  about  among  the  cottages  performing  purifica- 
tions, he  had  accompanied  her  and  read  the  formula  of  incantaton  ; 
and  that  he  had  assisted  his  father  to  keep  a  school  at  very  low  ter  ms. 
He  had  three  brothers,  Neocles,  Chceredemus,  and  Aristobulus,  w  horn 
Plutarch  cites  as  models  of  the  rarest  fraternal  affection. 

Epicurus  lived  at  Samos  and  Teos  to  the  age  of  eighteen,  when  he  Visits 
repaired  to  Athens.     Xenocrates  was  then  teaching  in  the  Academy,  Athens- 
and  Theophrastus,  the  successor  of  Aristotle,  in  the  Lyceum,  and  it  is 
probable  that  Epicurus  may  have  been  a  pupil  of  one  or  both ;  for  we  His  masters 
are  told  that  he  had  begun  the  study  of  philosophy  at  the  age  of  ^^Jo- 
fourteen,  and  had  received  lessens  in  Samos  from  Pamphilus,  a  Plato- 
nist.      A  number  of  other  philosophers  are  mentioned,  by  various 
authors,  as  having  been  at  one  time  or  other  his  instructors ;  but  he 
himself  used  to  boast  that  he  was  self-taught.     Of  the  older  philoso- 
phers he  was  most  attached  to  Anaxagoras  and  Democritus.     The 
writings  of  Democritus  are  said  to  have  first  attracted  him  to  the 
study  of  philosophy ;  and  his  system  of  physics  is  evidently  built  upon 
the  atomic  speculations  of  Democritus. 

His  stay  at  Athens  on  this  occasion  was  short:  the  troubles  in 
Attica  that  followed  the  death  of  Alexander  caused  him  to  remove 
first  to  Colophon,  and  then  to  Mitylene  and  Lampsacus.     It  was  at  opens  school 
Mitylene,  in  his  thirty-second  year,  that  he  first  opened  a  school ;  and  ^^^ene> 
there  and  at  Lampsacus  he  taught  for  five  years. 

Epicurus  now  returned  to   Athens,  B.  C.  306,  and  there  founded  Returns  to 
that  school  which  ever  after  was  called  by  his  name.     The  followers  Athens- 
of  Plato  occupied  the  Academy,  those  of  Aristotle  the  Lyceum,  the 


186  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

Cynics  the  Cynosargus,  and  the  Stoics  the  Portico ;  Epicurus  esta- 
blished his  school  in  a  garden  which  he  purchased  for  80  minse 
(about  350?.),  and  laid  out  for  the  purpose.  From  this  circumstance 
his  followers  were  called  the  philosophers  of  the  garden. 

His       .  In  this  garden  he  and  his  pupils  lived  in  a  state  of  friendship  to 

with  hVP  which,  if  the  accounts  given  are  to  be  trusted,  there  have  been  few  j 
pupils.  parallels.  Pythagoras  had  made  his  followers  throw  their  property  i 
into  a  common  stock,  saying  that  the  possessions  of  friends  should  be  j 
held  in  common ;  Epicurus  disapproved  of  this,  as  implying  a  distrust  i 
of  one  another  inconsistent  with  real  friendship.  The  friendship  of  1 
Epicurus  and  his  pupils  has  been  extolled  by  Cicero  in  the  highest  ; 
terms.1 

Manner  of         Although  Epicurus  laid  down  the  doctrine  that  pleasure  is  the  chief  ; 
good,  the  life  that  he  and  his  friends  led  was  one  of  the  greatest  tem- 
perance and  simplicity.    They  were  content,  we  are  told,  with  a  small  ] 
cup  of  light  wine,  and  all  the  rest  of  their  drink  was  water.     And  an 
inscription  over  the  gate  promised  to  those  who  might  wish  to  enter 
no  better  fare  than  barley-cakes  and  water.     The  chastity  of  Epicurus 
was  so  incontestable  that  Chrysippus,  one  of  his  principal  opponents, 
in  order  to  deprive  him  of  all  merit  on  the  score  of  it,  ascribed  it  to 
his  being  without  passions. 

Calumnies  of      Many  stories,  it  is  true,  of  an  opposite  character  were  put  in  circu- 
nes'  lation.    The  Stoics,  whose  system  he  chiefly  set  himself  against,  hated  • 
him  bitterly,  and  broached  all  manner  of  calumnies  on  his  mode  of  • 
life ;  which,  as  he  professed  himself  the  advocate  of  pleasure,  would  j 
naturally  find  ready  belief  with  those  who  did  not  know  him.     Timo-   ; 
crates,   who   had  been   his  pupil   but  abandoned  him,  represented 
Epicurus  as  gluttonous  and  licentious,  reporting  that  he  spent  a  mina 
(above  41.)  a-day  on  the  luxuries  of  the  table,  and  was  in  the  habit  of  1 
vomiting  twice  a-day  from  surfeit ;  and  that  many  immodest  women  j 
lived  in  his  garden  with  him  and  his  friends.     Diotimus,  the  Stoic,  j 
carried  this  system  of  persecution  so  far,  as  to  publish  a  set  of  obscene  j 
letters  and  attribute  them  to  Epicurus. 

refuted.  Diogenes  Laertius,  who  relates  all  these  stories,  declares  his  utter 

disbelief  of  them ;  and,  besides  citing  direct  testimonies  to  the  con- 
trary, appeals  to  the  universal  esteem  in  which  he  was  held  by  his 
friends  and  pupils,  and  to  the  public  statues  which  were  erected  to  = 
him  by  his  countrymen  after  his  death.  If  the  reports  in  question 
had  been  generally  believed  in  Athens,  that  could  hardly  have  taken 
place ;  and  that  they  were  disbelieved  in  a  city  where  slander  against 
eminence  was  always  so  readily  listened  to,  is  a  strong  proof  that  they 
were  without  foundation. 

His  success         The  success  of  Epicurus  as  a  teacher  was  signal.     Great  numbers 
as  a  teacher.  flockec[  to  his  school  from  all  parts  of  Greece,  and  from  Asia  Minor.  | 
The  attractiveness  of  his  leading  doctrine — the  very  name  pleasure —  I 
might  have  considerable  effect  in  bringing  together  hearers ;  but  it 
1  De  Fin.  i.  20. 


EPICURUS.  187 

required  something  more  to  produce  that  steady  adherence  for  which 
the  school  was  remarkable.  While  many  left  other  teachers  to  join 
Epicurus,  only  two  instances  were  on  record  of  Epicurus  being  deserted 
by  a  pupil.  This  could  arise  only  from  the  ascendency  which  his 
character  was  calculated  to  acquire.  That  ascendency  must  have  been 
due  partly  to  the  force  of  intellect  which  is  otherwise  manifest  in  his 
speculations ;  but  partly  also  to  the  amiability  and  benevolence  for 
which  he  was  distinguished.  He  is  said  to  have  had  so  many  friends, 
"  that  they  could  not  be  contained  in  whole  cities."  It  says  as  much, 
perhaps,  for  the  personal  character  of  Epicurus  as  for  his  doctrines, 
that  his  three  brothers  were  adherents  of  his  system,  and  also  one  of 
his  slaves,  Inus,  whom  he  made  free  at  his  death.  Epicurus  never 
married :  according  to  his  theory  of  happiness,  marriage  was  not  con- 
sistent with  prudence ;  but  in  the  important  relations  of  a  son,  a  brother, 
and  a  friend,  he  was  confessedly  most  exemplary. 

He  continued  to  conduct  a  flourishing  school  till  his  death,  in  the  His  death, 
seventy-second  year  of  his  age,  thirty-six  years  after  he  had  settled  as  B-c-  27°- 
a  teacher  in  Athens.  He  died  of  the  stone,  after  a  fortnight's  illness. 
Writing  to  his  friend  Idomeneus  during  this  illness,  he  says,  that  the 
violence  of  his  sufferings  were  such  that  nothing  could  be  added  to  it. 
"  But  the  joy  of  mind  arising  from  the  habitual  recollection  of  all  my 
philosophical  speculations,  counterbalances  all  these  afflictions."  Dio- 
genes Laertius  gives  us  a  glimpse,  as  it  were,  of  his  last  moments. 
Finding  his  end  approaching,  "  he  entered  a  warm  bath,  called  for  a 
cup  of  pure  wine  and  drank  it,  and  having  recommended  his  friends 
to  remember  his  doctrines,  he  expired." 

He  left  his  house  and  garden  for  the  use  of  the  adherents  of  his 
philosophy,  and  appointed  Hermarchus  of  Mitylene  as  his  first  suc- 
cessor. Metrodorus,  to  whom  of  all  his  followers  he  was  most 
attached,  died  seven  years  before  him ;  and  Epicurus  at  his  death 
made  generous  provision  for  the  children  of  his  friend.  His  will,  His  will, 
which  we  fortunately  possess,  is  an  interesting  document,  and  gives 
us  much  more  genuine  insight  into  the  affectionateness  and  generosity 
of  Epicurus's  character,  than  any  of  the  third-hand  reports  that  we  are 
obliged  to  content  ourselves  with  on  other  points  concerning  him. 
The  following  are  extracts : — l 

"  Out  of  the  income  which  is  derived  from  that  property,  which  is  here 
bequeathed  by  me  to  Amynomachus  and  Timocrates  (the  executors), 
I  will  that  they,  consulting  with  Hermarchus,  shall  arrange  in  the  best 
manner  possible  the  offerings  to  the  manes  in  honour  of  the  memory  Appoints 
of  my  father,  and  mother,  and  brothers,  and  myself;  and  that  my  jJemSy  rf 
birth-day  may  be  kept,  as  it  has  been  in  the  habit  of  being  kept,  on  his  parents, 
the  tenth  day  of  the  month  Gamelion;  and  that  the  reunion  of  all  His  birth -day 
the  philosophers  of  our  school,  established  in  honour  of  Metrodorus  to  be  kept* 
and  myself,  may  take  place  on  the  twentieth  day  of  every  month. 
They  shall  also  celebrate,  as  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  doing  myself, 
1  Quoted  from  the  translation  in  Bohn's  Classical  Library. 


188  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

the  day  consecrated  to  my  brothers,  in  the  month  Poseideon  ;  and  the 
day  consecrated  to  the  memory  of  Polygenus,  in  the  month  Meta- 
geitnion. 

Makes  "  Amynomachus  and  Timocrates  shall  be  the  guardians  of  Epicurus, 

5™  children'  the  son  of  Metrodorus,  and  of  the  son  of  Polypus ;  *  *  *  also  of  the 
of  two  daughter  of  Metrodorus ;  and  when  she  is  of  marriageable  age,  they 

shall  give  her  to  whomsoever  Hermarchus  shall  select  of  his  com- 
panions in  philosophy,  provided  she  is  well-behaved  and  obedient  to 
Hermarchus.  And  Amynomachus  and  Timocrates  shall,  out  of  my 
income,  give  them  such  a  sum  for  their  support,  as  shall  appear 
sufficient,  year  by  year,  after  due  consultation  with  Hermarchus.*  *  * 
And  as  for  the  dowry  for  the  girl,  when  she  is  come  to  marriageable 
age,  let  them  take  for  the  purpose  such  a  sum  from  my  property  as 
shall  seem  to  them,  in  conjunction  with  Hermarchus,  to  be  reasonable. 
And  let  them  also  take  care  of  Nicanor,  as  we  ourselves  have  done ; 
in  order  that  all  those  who  have  studied  philosophy  with  us,  and  who 
have  assisted  us  with  their  means,  and  who  have  shown  great  friend- 
ship for  us,  and  who  have  chosen  to  grow  old  with  us  in  the  study  of 
philosophy,  may  never  be  in  want  of  anything  as  far  as  our  power  to 
Emancipates  prevent  it  may  extend. — Of  my  slaves,  I  hereby  emancipate  Inus  and 
Nicias,  and  Lycon :  I  also  give  PhaBdrium  her  freedom." 

PART  II. — DOCTRINES. 

The  writings  Epicurus  was  a  most  voluminous  writer.  According  to  Diogenes 
Laertius,  he  left  three  hundred  volumes ;  "  and  in  the  whole  of  them 
there  is  not  one  citation  from  other  sources,  but  they  are  filled  wholly 
with  the  sentiments  of  Epicurus  himself."  Among  others,  he  had 
thirty-seven  books  on  Natural  Philosophy ;  a  treatise  on  Atoms  and 
the  Vacuum  ;  one  on  Love ;  one  on  Choice  and  Avoidance ;  another  on 
the  Chief  Good  ;  four  essays  on  Lives ;  one  on  Sight;  one  on  Touch  ; 
another  on  Images ;  another  on  Justice  and  the  other  Virtues,  &c. 
Almost  all  these  works  are  lost :  the  only  writings  of  Epicurus  that 
have  come  down  to  us  are  three  letters,  and  a  number  of  detached 
sentences,  or  sayings,  preserved  by  Diogenes  Laertius,  in  his  life  of 
the  philosopher. 

sources  Some  knowledge  of  the  doctrines  of  Epicurus  may  be  gathered 

knowledge     from  scattered   notices  in    several  ancient  writers,  among  others  in 
of  his  Cicero  '  De  Finibus,'  and  '  De  Nat.  Deorum,  and  in  Seneca.     The 

poem  also  of  Lucretius,  '  De  Rerum  Natura,'  contains  substantially 
the  philosophy  of  Epicurus.  But  the  principal  and  only  direct 
source  are  the  letters  and  the  sentences  above  mentioned.  These 
letters  were  written  for  the  express  purpose  of  giving  to  some  of 
his  friends  an  epitome  of  what  he  had  taught  in  his  discourses  and 
books.  In  attempting,  therefore,  to  give  some  account  of  the  philo- 
sophical system  of  Epicurus,  we  mean  to  confine  ourselves,  for  the 
most  part,  to  this  direct  source ;  and  as  it  has  been  the  fate  of 


EPICURUS.  189 

Epicurus,  perhaps  more  than  any  other  philosopher,  to  be  misre- 
presented and  maligned,  we  will  leave  him,  as  far  as  possible,  to  speak 
for  himself,  only  giving  such  hints  as  to  put  the  reader  in  the  point 
of  view  necessary  for  seeing  the  drift  of  the  argument. 

We  shall  not  stop  to  point  out  the  errors  and  deficiencies  of  the 
system— even  though  that  were  necessary.     Our  business  is  not  to 
criticise  the  Epicurean  philosophy,  but  to  give  our  readers  an  idea  of  Object  of 
what  it  was ;  and  for  this  purpose  they  are  not  to  be  put  into  a  ScT."8 
hostile  attitude,  but  rather  led  to  look  at  it,  for  a  time,  with  Epicurus's 
eyes.     The  worthlessness  of  most  of  the  physical  speculations,   as 
regards  positive  science,  will  be  readily  enough  apparent;    and  an 
appreciation  of  the  moral  doctrines  will  be  found  in  another  volume 
of  this  series.1 

Are  we  to  look  upon  Epicurus  as  a  natural,  or  as  a  moral  philo-  is  Epicurus 
sopher  ?     Judging  by  the  comparative  space  that  these  two  kinds  of  orTmoial 
speculation  severally  occupy  in  Epicurus's  own  epitome,  one  would  philosopher  ? 
suppose   that  he  held  physical  science  to  be  more  important  than 
ethical.     And  we  are  still  more  liable  to  form  this  impression  from  a 
cursory   reading    of  Lucretius's   poetical   version    of   the    Epicurean 
philosophy ;  for  to  expound  the  nature  and  causes  of  physical  and 
psychological  phenomena  seems   the  grand  aim  of  that  work,  and 
moral  reflections  appear  to  be  only  incidental.     It  is  really,  however, 
the  very  reverse.     The  end  of  all  philosophy,  according  to  Epicurus, 
is  to  teach  men  how  to  live  happily.     If  he  appears  chiefly  occupied 
in  speculating  on  the  material  world,  it  is  because  he  looks  upon  a 
knowledge  of  that  as  the  chief  road  to  happiness ;  and  all  philosophy 
that  does  not  seem  to  him  to  bear  upon  a  happy  life,  he  holds  in  the 
utmost  contempt. 

We  shall  fail,  however,  to  appreciate  rightly  the  Epicurean  system  Epicurus's 
of  natural  philosophy,  unless  we  bear  in  mind  how  Epicurus  conceived  ^^ f  the 
physical  science  to  affect  human  happiness.      We  seek  for  knowledge  physical 
because  it  is  power ;  we  explore  the  laws  of  nature,  that  we  may  sc 
control  the  material  world,  and  thus  avert  physical  evils,  and  extract 
for  ourselves  the  means  of  enjoyment.     This  view  of  the  end  of 
physical  inquiry  had  hardly  been  distinctly  conceived  in  ancient  times 
by  any  school  of  philosophers ;  in  fact  there  was,  as  yet,  scarcely  any 
science  of  a  nature  sufficiently  positive  and  exact  to  be  turned  to 
practical  account.     At  all  events  this  was  not  Epicurus's  view  of  the 
use  of  natural  philosophy.     According  to  him,   the  great  evil  that 
afflicted  men — the  incubus  on  human  happiness — was  fear  ;  fear  of 
the  gods,  and  fear  of  death.     To  get  rid  of  these  two  fears  and  thus 
secure  the  negative,  and,  in  his  view,  the  chief  condition  of  happiness, 
was  the  ultimate  aim  of  all  Epicurus's  speculations  on  nature.     This 
he  prided  himself  on  having  effected ;   and  his  disciple,  Lucretius, 
points  to  this  service  as  his  chief  claim  to  our  gratitude  and  admira- 
tion : — 

1  Vol.  X.  Maurice's  '  Moral  and  Metaphysical  Philosophy.' 


190 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


The 

subjective 
use  of 
science 
the  chief. 


The  chief 
destroyers 
of  human 
happiness. 


Them  [men]  long  the  tyrant  power 
Of  SUPERSTITION  swayed,  uplifting  proud 
Her  head  to  heaven,  and  with  horrific  limbs 
Brooding  o'er  earth ;  till  he,  the  man  of  Greece, 
Auspicious  rose,  who  first  the  combat  dared, 
And  broke  in  twain  the  monster's  iron  rod. 
*         *         *         *         And,  hence,  we, 
Triumphant  too,  o'er  Superstition  rise, 
Contemn  her  terrors,  and  unfold  the  heavens.1 

He  even  goes  so  far  as  to  profess  his  belief  that,  for  delivering 
mankind  from  these  and  other  disturbers  of  the  soul,  Epicurus  has 
done  more  for  their  happiness,  and  is  better  entitled  to  divine  honours 
at  their  hands,  than  Ceres  and  Bacchus  who  gave  them  corn  and  wine, 
or  Hercules  who  delivered  them  from  so  many  monsters.2 

The  use  of  physical  theories,  then,  according  to  Epicurus,  is  sub- 
jective and  not  objective  ;  and  unless  we  advert  to  this  at  every  step, 
not  only  will  most  of  his  reasonings  and  opinions  appear  trifling  and 
ridiculous,  but  he  will  often  seem  to  speak  nonsense — as  his  com- 
mentators and  translators  not  seldom  make  him  to  do.  If  we  look 
at  his  explanations  of  phenomena  from  his  own  point  of  view,  we 
shall  be  able  to  discern  "  a  method  in  the  madness "  of  even  the 
wildest  of  them. 

That  we  are  not  misrepresenting  the  view  with  which  Epicurus 
philosophised,  the  following  passages  from  his  letters  will  prove  : — 

"  You  are  striving,  you  say  in  your  letter,  to  store  up  in  your 
memory  those  opinions  and  speculations  that  tend  to  a  happy  life. 

"  In  seeking  a  knowledge,  then,  of  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens 
— and.  it  is  the  same  with  every  other  science  we  are  to  propose  no 
other  end  than  freedom  from  perturbation  of  mind  and  firmness  of 
belief. 

**  The  leading  disturber  of  men's  souls  and  destroyer  of  their 
happiness  is  the  belief  that  the  stars  are  happy  and  immortal  beings, 
with  whose  wills  the  wrills  and  actions  of  men  may  not  be  in  accord- 
ance ;  they  also  torment  themselves  with  looking  forward  to  fabulous 
eternal  evils,  and  suffer  by  anticipation  the  insensibility  of  death.  *  ' 
Tranquillity  of  mind  consists  in  being  delivered  from  all  such  myths, 
and  in  knowing  and  remembering  the  general  laws  of  the  world. 

"  If  no  anxious  suspicions  about  the  heavenly  bodies,  or  about 
death  troubled  us,  and  if  the  limits  and  mode  of  regulation  of  the 

1  Good's  Translation  of  Lucretius,  i.  62  : — 

Humana  ante  oculos  fsede  cum  vita  jaceret 
In  terris  oppressa  gravi  sub  religione, 
Quae  caput  a  cseli  regionibus  ostendebat 
Horribili  super  aspectu  mortalibus  instans, 
Primum  Graius  homo  mortalis  tendere  contra 
Est  oculos  ausus  primusque  obsistere  contra. 

*  #  *  *  * 

Quare  religio  pedibus  subjecta  vicissim 
Opteritur,  nos  exaequat  victoria  coelo. 

2  Lucr.  v.  14. 


EPICURUS.  191 

desires  were  understood,  we  should  have  no  need  of  physical  science 


"  It  would  not  be  possible  to  banish  fear  about  the  most  important 
things,  if  we  continued  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the  universe,  or  if 
any  suspicion  lurked  of  there  being  truth  in  the  myths." 

We  learn  from  Diogenes  Laertius  that  Epicurus  divided  philosophy  Divisions  of 
into  three  parts,  the  canonical,  the  physical,  and  the  ethical.  He  p  a 
rejected  dialectics  as  superfluous  and  trifling.  Language  in  itself,  and 
the  mere  arts  of  reasoning  and  disputing,  he  seems  to  have  despised. 
In  his  treatise  on  rhetoric,  the  one  point  he  laid  stress  on  was  clear- 
ness, and  this  was  the  only  thing  he  attended  to  in  his  own  writings. 
To  one  department  of  language,  indeed,  he  urges  assiduous  attention, 
that  of  general  names  ;  by  observant  exercise  of  the  senses  we  are  to 
form  for  ourselves  clear  and  determinate  notions  of  the  things  that 
correspond  to  such  names,  as  foundations  and  tests  of  all  other 
knowledge. 

The  canonical  division  of  Epicurus's  philosophy  treated  of  the  Sources  and 
primary  sources  of  knowledge,  or,  as  he  calls  them,  the  criteria  of  JJutte1"a  of 
truth  ;  which  he  held  to  be,  the  sensations  (cuo-flrjVaf),  the  ideas 
(TrpoXjf^ae),  and  the  feelings  or  passions  (naQ-n).  The  senses  were 
pronounced  to  be  independent  of  reason,  and  incapable  of  memory. 
Their  testimony  must  be  received  without  question,  for  there  is  nothing 
that  can  decide  upon  it.  One  sense  even  cannot  judge  another  :  and 
reasoning,  instead  of  establishing  the  truth  of  the  sensations  must  be 
founded  upon  them.  Ideas1  are  defined  to  be,  recollections  of  external 
things  previously  perceived  by  the  senses.  When  the  word  man, 
for  instance,  is  pronounced,  a  form  of  him  is  perceived  by  the  mind, 
owing  to  previous  operations  of  the  senses.  These  ideas  furnish  us 
with  direct  and  certain  truth,  no  less  than  the  senses  do.  The  passions 
or  feelings  are  two,  pleasure  and  pain,  affecting  every  living  thing. 
Their  testimony  also  is  direct  and  certain,  and  by  it  are  to  be  tried  all 
questions  as  to  what  is  to  be  chosen  and  what  is  to  be  avoided. 

In  opposition  to  knowledge  derived  from  these  three  sources,  which  Deductive 
was  considered  self-evident  and  certain,  was  placed  the  knowledge  knowledse- 
that  is  arrived  at  by  inference  or  reasoning.     This  must  always  be 
founded  on  self-evident  knowledge,  and  is  suggested  by  seme  analogy 
or  resemblance,  or  results  from  combination.     What  is  thus  arrived  at 
was  called  judgment  or  opinion  (c)o'£a),  or  supposition  (vTroX/^te), 
and  might  be  either  true  or  false  ;  true,  if  supported  by  testimony  (of 
the  criteria)  or  not  contradicted  by  testimony  ;  false,  if  not  supported, 
or  if  contradicted. 

In  accounting  for  the  origin  of  error,  Epicurus  seems  in  some  passages  Origin  or 
to  admit  a  sort  of  active  initiative  on  the  part  of  the  intellect  itself  —  error- 
something  not  unlike  the  spontaneous  creative  power  attributed  to  it 
by  some  modern  psychologists.     This  doubtless  breaks  in  upon  the 

1  irpoATjif/ets  —  absurdly  rendered  by  the  Latin  word  anticipatio,  or  the  English 
preconception. 


192 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Nothing 


Everything 


The  universe 


and  space, 


simplicity  and  apparent  sureness  of  his  method  ;  just  as  the  admission 
of  irregular  deviations  from  the  straight  line  in  the  motion  of  atoms, 
disfigures  his  physical  theory. 

Such  then,  according  to  Diogenes  Laertius,  were  the  canons  or  rules 
of  method  laid  down  by  Epicurus  in  his  treatise  called  '  The  Canon.' 
This,  therefore,  was  not  so  much  a  separate  division  of  philosophy,  as 
an  introduction  to  the  other  two.  The  physics,  or  natural  philosophy, 
is  discussed  in  the  first  two  of  the  letters  before  mentioned  ;  the  one 
being  occupied  with  the  constitution  of  the  world  in  general,  and  the 
other  with  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens.  His  moral  philosophy  is 
delineated,  briefly,  in  the  third  letter  ;  and  the  select  sentences  contain 
maxims  on  both  subjects.  We  will  now  present  such  a  series  of 
extracts  from  these  authentic  documents,  preceded  by  necessary  ex- 
planations, as  to  give  some  idea  of  Epicurus's  leading  dogmas,  and  of 
the  sort  of  reasoning  on  which  he  founded  them.  We  take  no  more 
liberty  with  the  original  than  is  necessary  to  render  the  passages 
intelligible  to  a  modern  reader. 

Physics.  —  The  Universe. 

After  enjoining  attention  to  the  exact  import  of  names,  and  to  the 
primary  knowledge  that  we  get  from  the  three  sources  above  mentioned, 
Senses,  Ideas,  and  Passions,  he  proceeds  :  — 

"  Having  ascertained  all  this,  we  may  then  proceed  to  the  study  of 
things  depending  on  indirect  evidence.  And  first  to  the  truth,  that 
Nothing  is  produced  from  what  does  not  exist  ;  for  otherwise,  every- 
thing  would  be  produced  from  everything,  without  the  necessity  of 
seed.  Again,  if  what  disappears  were  so  destroyed  as  to  be  non- 
existent, then  all  things  would  perish,  the  elements  into  which  they 
are  resolved  no  longer  existing.  But  in  truth  this  All,  this  universe, 
was  always  such  as  it  is  now,  and  will  always  be  such.  For  there  is 
nothing  into  which  it  may  change  ;  for  there  is  nothing  besides  the 
All,  which,  entering  into  it,  could  effect  a  change. 

«  The  All  or  universe  is  body  (corporeal).  For  it  is  by  sensation 
that  the  existence  of  palpable  objects  is  perceived,  arid  it  is  by  analogy 
with  these  that  what  cannot  be  directly  observed,  must  be  proved. 
(Now  in  this  way  we  make  out  legitimately  the  existence  of  space). 
For  if  what  we  call  vacuum,  or  space,  or  the  intangible  nature,  did 
not  exist,  bodies  would  not  have  where  to  exist  or  move,  as  we  see 
that  they  do.  (Thus  we  get  a  knowledge  of  two  kinds  of  existence, 
of  bodies  and  of  the  vacuum).  But  besides  these  two,  we  can  arrive 
at  no  notion,  either  through  direct  perception  or  by  analogy  to  things 
perceived,  of  anything  which  we  can  conceive  as  a  separate  existence, 
and  not  as  a  property  or  accident  of  body  or  space. 

"  The  universe  is  infinite.  For  that  which  is  finite  has  an  extreme, 
and  an  extreme  implies  something  else  beyond.  (But  something  else 
than  '  the  All  '  (TO  TTOIV)  is  an  absurdity  ;  the  universe  therefore  has  no 
extreme).  So  that  having  no  extreme,  it  is  infinite.  And  it  is  in- 


EPICTJKUS.  193 

finite  both  in  respect  of  the  number  of  bodies  that  compose  it,  and  of 
the  extent  of  the  vacuum  or  space.  For  if  space  we*  infinite  and  the 
bodies  were  limited  in  number,  the  bodies  would  be  able  to  remain  in 
no  place,  but  would  be  carried  hither  and  thither,  and  scattered  through 
the  infinitude  of  space,  not  supporting  and  keeping  one  another  in 
their  places.  On  the  other  hand,  if  space  were  limited,  and  the  bodies 
infinite,  the  bodies  would  have  nowhere  to  exist." 

Atoms. 

"  Of  bodies  some  are  compounds,  and  some  are  elements  of  which 
the  compounds  are  formed.     These  elements  are  indivisible  (aro/^a, 
atoms)  and  unchangeable,  being  '  full '  and  admitting  nowhere  and  no-  tibie  atoms. 
how    of  dissolution.     This    is   absolutely  necessary  to  prevent  the 
disintegration  of  bodies  from  ending  in  the  annihilation  of  all  things." 

Among  other  properties,  these  atoms  are  stated  to  be  of  various  Atoms  are  of 
shapes,  this  being  necessary  to  account  for  the  observed  differences  of  ^g1? 
bodies  ;  for  the  same  reason  they  are  assumed  to  be  of  various  magni- 
tudes.     In    this   respect,  however,  there    are    limits,  otherwise  we 
should  be  meeting  with  visible  atoms,  which  is  never  the  case ;  nor  in 
fact  can  we  conceive  such  a  thing  possible.     On  the  other  hand,  we 
are   to  guard   against  the  notion  of  unlimited  smallness,  or  infinite 
divisibility.     There  is  a  great  deal  of  elaborate  argument  in  disproof  No  infinite 
of  this  notion,  none  of  it  very  cogent.     Perhaps  this  attempt  at  a  dlvlslbllltv- 
reductio  ad  absurdum  is  the  best.     "  For  when  one  has  once  said  that 
there  are  in  any  object  an  infinite  number  of  particles,  it  is  manifestly 
impossible  to  think  any  longer  of  that  object  as  finite  in  magnitude." 
Atoms,  then,  have  some  determinate  magnitude.     They  possess  none 
of  the  changeable  properties  of  bodies ;  but  only  the  essential  properties 
of  form,  magnitude,  and  weight. 

The  grand   problem    in   the    Epicurean   cosmogony  was :    Given  How  were 
infinite  space  and  an  infinite  number  of  atoms,  to  account  for  the  fhat°<Smpose 
formation  and  continued  existence  of  things  as  we  see  them.     This  the  world 
initiatory  part  of  the  system  is  so  briefly  noticed  in  the  '  Epitome,'  that 
to  understand  it  we  must  have  recourse  to  Lucretius,  where  it  is  seen 
in  a  more  expanded  form.      In  solving  the  problem,  Epicurus  has 
faithfully  adhered  to  his  rule  of  explaining  things  beyond  the  reach  of 
observation,  only  by  the  analogy  of  things  that  are  observed.     This 
corresponds  in  so  far  to  the  modern  maxim,  that  requires  us  to  call  in 
to  the  explanation  of  -phenomena  no  causes  but  such  as  we  know  to 
exist.     The  other  part  of  that  axiom — to  call  in  no  more  causes  than 
are  necessary — has  nothing  expressly  answering  to  it  in  the  Epicurean 
canon ;  but  his  grand  aim,  to  get  rid,  namely,  of  the  gods,  supplies 
the  place  of  a  positive  rule,  and  makes  him  very  sparing  of  principles. 

To  account  for  the  formation  of  bodies,  for  their  observed  motions,  Atoms 
and  for  most  of  their  changeable  properties,  it  is  assumed  that  atoms  5JjthWed 
are  endowed  with  an  inherent  motion,  and  that  this  motion,  when  inherent 
not  interfered  with,  is  always  in  one  uniform  direction  downwards.  m' 

[G.  E,  P.]  o 


194  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

This  is  thought  to  be  in  strict  analogy  with  what  happens  to  palpable 
bodies ;  and  atoxns,  having  weight  like  them,  are  assumed  to  follow 
the  same  law. 

or  up  and  Epicurus  has  been  accused  of  absurdity  in  speaking  of  a  downwards 
fiStl? the  and  an  upwards  in  relation  to  infinite  space.  But  from  his  point 
of  view  there  is  no  absurdity.  To  him  the  earth  was  a  fixed  plain ; 
and  all  motions  of  falling  bodies,  on  whatever  parts  of  the  earth's 
surface  and  at  whatever  times,  were  parallel  to  one  another,  and  there- 
fore in  one  uniform  fixed  direction,  which  men  knew  by  the  name  of 
"  downwards."1 

No  centre.  He  rejects,  for  many,  to  him,  strong  reasons,  the  notion  of  a  centre 
towards  which  all  things  are  in  motion ;  a  notion  entertained  by  those 
philosophers  who  held  that  there  is  onl^  .one,  and  that  a  finite,  world. 
This  would  have  been  contrary  to  tb^  canon  ;  for  such  convergent 
motions  are  nowhere  observable:  drops  of  rain,  for  instance,  fall 
parallel — so  at  least  thought  Epicurus. 

DO  atoms  Suppose  then  the  atoms  moving  like  drops  of  rain  across  the  va- 
another?0ne  cunm>  ^ow  are  tnev  ever  to  come  together  to  form  the  world?  Are 
we  to  assume  that  they  have  different  velocities,  and  that  one  atom 
overtakes  another?  Epicurus  had  observed  with  sufficient  accuracy  the 
motions  of  bodies  in  free  space,  not  to  admit  that  supposition ;  and 
argues  acutely  enough  against  the  idea  that  heavy  bodies  move  faster 
than  light  ones. 

They  meet         At  this  rate  atoms  could  never  have  combined.     It  only  remained 
fronttheCti°n  tnen  to  suppose  that  some  of  them  deviated  from  the  straight  line. 

straight  line.  This,  too,  regard  intent ;  that  primal  seeds 

When  down  direct  their  potent  path  they  urge, 
In  time  uncertain,  and  uncertain  space, 
Oft  from  the  right  decline.2 
According  to  Cicero,3  "  this  supposition  is  mere  puerility;  for  he 

1  The  translator  of  Lucretius,  in  Bohn's  Classical  Library,  after  noticing  this 
assumed  absurdity  (page  xiii),  accuses  his  author  of  afterwards  contradicting  him- 
self, when  he  says  that  nil  est  funditus  imum.  There  is,  however,  no  more  contra- 
diction in  the  one  case  than  there  is  absurdity  in  the  other.  Lucretius  holds, 
following  Epicurus,  that  there  is  an  up  and  a  down,  but  denies  that  there  is  an 
upmost  or  a  downmos£ ;  there  is  a  downwards,  but  no  bottom. 

The  translator  of  Diogenes  Laertius,  from  the  same  misapprehension  of  this  part 
of  the  Epicurean,  physics,  makes  Epicurus  actually  contradict  himself:  "Moreover, 
we  must  not  say  (while  speaking  of  the  infinite)  that  such  a  point  is  the  highest 
point  of  it,  or  the  lowest.  For  height  and  lovcness  must  not  be  predicated  of  the 
infinite."  The  sentence  in  italics  is  in  direct  contradiction  of  what  Epicurus  says 
immediately  after.  But  the  sentence  in  question  has  nothing  corresponding  to  it  in 
the  original ;  it  is  a  gloss  of  the  translator,  thinking  to  explain  the  preceding  posi- 
tion. Epicurus  again  and  again  asserts  that  the  motion  caused  by  weight  is  always 
from  high  to  low  ;  he  only  cautions  against  thinking  of  any  points  in  these  two 
opposites  as  the  highest  or  the  lowest. 

2  Illud  in  his  quoque  te  rebus  cognoscere  avemus, 
Corpora  cura  deorsum  rectum  per  inane  feruntur, 
Ponderibus  propriis  incerto  tempore  ferme 
Incertisque  loci  spatiis  decellere  paulum.  Lucr.  ii.  216. 

3  Quse  res  tota  ficta  est  pueriliter ;  nam  et  ipsa  declinatio  ad  libidinem  fipgitur 


EPICURUS.  195 

introduces  the  deviation  arbitrarily,  making  some  atoms  decline  from 
the  straight  course  without  cause ;  and  he  also  takes  <tovay  from  atoms, 
without  cause,  that  natural  motion  from  above  downwards,  which  he 
himself  had  ascribed  to  all  heavy  bodies ;  but  to  say  that  anything 
takes  place  without  a  cause,  is  the  most  repugnant  of  all  things  to  a 
natural  philosopher." 

Undoubtedly,  this  is  the  weak  point  in  Epicurus's  cosmogony ;  and 
yet,  if  his  canon  is  to  be  depended  upon,  the  assumption  is  defensible. 
It  seems,  he  might  argue,  to  be  contradicted  by  the  testimony  of  the 
senses,  since  heavy  bodies,  when  they  fall,  move,  as  far  as  we  can  see, 
in  straight  lines  and  parallel  to  one  another.  "  But  who  can  discern 
that  they  do  not  deviate  in  the  very  slightest  degree  ?" — which  is  all 
that  is  asked. 

Thus,  if  not  supported,  the  theory  is  at  least  not  contradicted  by 
the  senses.  The  support  or  positive  testimony  is  found  in  a  quarter 
where  we  should  little  have  looked  for  it — in  the  freedom  of  the  will. 
We  turn  aside  and  alter  our  motions,  nothing  urging  us  thereto ;  this  is 
an  analogy  to  what  is  assumed  of  atoms,  and  authorises  the  assump- 
tion : — 

The  free-born  mind  Free-will 

Acts  or  forbears,  spontaneous  ;  its  own  time,  accounted 

Its  place,  alike  uncertain  :  these  the  will, 
Doubtless,  alone  determines.1 

***** 
Hence  firm  maintain  we,  primal  seeds  some  cause 
Must  feel  of  rising  motion  unbestowed 
By  weight,  or  blow  reactive,  whence  alone 
Upsprings  this  secret  power  by  man  possest : 
Nought  forming  nought,  as  reason  proves  precise.2 

Thus,  these  fitful  deflections  of  atoms  from  the  straight  course  are 
inferred  from,  and  then  serve  to  account  for,  the  self-originating  move- 
ments of  the  human  will. 

When  the  atoms  are  once  by  this  expedient  brought  into  collision,  The  clashing 
innumerable  motions  in  all  directions  are  produced  by  their  mutual  re-  of  a*oms 
actions ;  and,   after  infinite  clashing  and  whirling,  the^  result  is — the  the  world, 
world  we  see  : — 

Primordial  seeds 
*         *      ever  changing,  ever  changed  and  vext, 

(ait  enim  declinare  atomum  sine  causa ;  quo  nihil  turpius  physico  quam  fieri  sine 
causa  quidquam  dicere) ;  et  ilium  motum  naturalem  omnium  ponderum,  ut  ipse 
constituit,  e  regione  inferiorem  locum  petentium,  sine  causa  eripuit  atomis.— Cicero, 
de  Fin.  i.  6. 

1  Declinamus  item  motus  nee  tempore  certo 
Nee  regione  loci  certa,  sed  ubi  ipsa  tulit  mens. 
Nam  dubio  procul  his  rebus  sua  cuique  voluntas 
Principium  dat.  Lucr.  ii.  259. 

2  Quare  in  seminibus  quoque  idem  fateare  necessest, 
Esse  aliam  praeter  plagas  et  poudera  causam 
Motibus,  unde  haec  est  nobis  innata  potestas  | 

De  ffi'lo  quoniam  fieri  nil  posse  videmus.  Lucr.  ii.  284. 

02 


196 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Cohesion 


Perception 


Their 
poSbie°e 


Their 
necessity. 


images 

produce 
hearing. 


From  earliest  time,  through  ever-during  space, 
\^th  ceaseless  repercussion,  every  mode 
Of  motion,  magnitude,  and  shape  essayed  ; 
At  length  th'  unwieldy  mass  the  form  assumed 
Of  things  created.  l 

Epicurus's  notion  of  the  constitution  of  matter  is  thus  essentially 
different  from  ours.  Instead  of  bodies  owing  their  consistency  to  the 
mutual  attraction  of  their  particles,  he  considered  them  as  held  together 
by  the  shocks  and  resistance  of  surrounding  atoms.  We  can  thus  un- 
derstand the  earnestness  with  which  he  labours  to  prove  the  infinite 
extension  of  matter,  and  the  horror  with  which  an  Epicurean  looked 
upon  the  heresy  of  one  finite  world,  and  of  any  space  altogether  empty 
of  matter  :  — 

For  once  to  act,  when  primal  atoms  fail, 

Fail  where  they  may,  the  doors  of  death  are  ope, 

And  the  vast  whole  unbounded  ruin  whelms.2 

Images. 

A  prominent  feature  in  Epicurus's  philosophical  system  is  the  doc- 
trine  °^  perception  by  images  («3wXa).  Their  nature  and  the  proofs 
of  their  existence  are  thus  stated  :  — 

"  There  exist  forms  of  solid  objects,  similar  to  those  objects  in  shape, 
but  differing  from  them  much  in  the  thinness  of  their  substance.  For 
there  is  no  impossibility  in  such  emanations  existing  in  the  air,  or  in 
there  being  a  capacity  in  bodies  for  forming  such  hollow,  thin  spectra, 
or  in  the  emanations  retaining  the  unbroken  disposition  and  structure 
that  they  had  in  the  solids.  To  these  forms  we  give  the  name  of 
images." 

These  images  move  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  owing  to  the  tenuity 
of  their  substance,  which  encounters  little  or  no  resistance  in  space. 
They  are  incessantly  streaming  off  from  the  surface  of  all  bodies,  and 
are  necessary  to  bring  us  into  rapport  with  the  world  without. 

"  For  external  things  could  not  impress  upon  us  their  nature,  as  to 
co]our  and  shape,  through  the  medium  of  the  air  between  us  and  them, 
or  through  rays  or  any  other  emanations  proceeding  from  us  to  them  ; 
so  that  perception  must  take  place  as  it  were  through  certain  forms, 
of  the  same  colour  and  shape,  and  of  proportionate  size,  coming  from 
the  objects,  and  making  their  way  with  great  rapidity  to  the  eye  or 
the  mind." 

In  like  manner  sounding  bodies  throw  off  emanations,  by  which  we 

Primordia  rerum     *         * 

*    *     quia  multa  modis  multis  mutata  per  omne 
Ex  infinite  vexantur  percita  plagis, 
Omne  genus  motus  et  coetus  experiundo 
Tandem  deveniunt  in  talis  disposituras, 

Qualibus  haec  rerum  consistit  summa  creata.         Lucr.  i.  1021. 
2  Nam  qua  cumque  prius  de  parti  corpora  deesse 
Constitues,  hsec  rebus  erit  pars  janua  leti  : 
Hac  se  turba  foras  dabit  omnis  material.  Lucr.  i.  1111. 


EPICURUS.  197 

are  brought  into  sympathy  with  them ;  mere  pulses  of  the  air  could 
not  be  conceived  to  effect  this.  Perception  by  the  smell  takes  place 
in  the  same  way. 

Psychology. 

In  Psychology,  Epicurus  is  a  decided  materialist :  he  thus  lays  down 
the  nature  of  the  soul : — 

"  From  the  facts  of  sensation  and  passion,  we  infer  with  the  utmost  The  soul  is 
certainty  that  the  soul  is  a  bodily  substance,  composed  of  subtile  par-  corP°real- 
tides,    disseminated    through  the  whole  frame,  and  having  a  great 
resemblance  to  spirit  (irvevfta),  with  a  mixture  of  heat.     From  the 
subtilty  of  its  particles  it  has  great  capacity  of  change  and  displace- 
ment, and  can  thus  enter  into  more  perfect  sympathy  with  the  rest  of 
the  structure." 

For  the  rest,  the  soul  is  principally  concerned  in  sensation,  but  Relation  of 
receives  that  faculty  from  being  enveloped  in  the  body.    Neither  body  Sldy*"^ 
nor  soul  has  any  sensation  by  itself;  the  body  loses  sensation  when  sensation, 
the  particles  composing  the  soul  are  dissipated,  and  when  the  body  is 
dissolved  the  soul  is  dissolved,  and  retains  neither  motion  nor  sensation. 

"  They  who  say  that  the  soul  is  incorporeal  utter  nonsense.     The  The  s™1 

,.J  ,     J .  ,  ~       x  .  ~ .      ,  cannot  be 

only  incorporeal  existence  that  we  can  lorm  any  notion  of  is  the  vacuum,  incorporeal, 
which  can  neither  act  nor  suffer.     If  the  soul,  then,  were  incorporeal, 
it  could  neither  act  nor  surfer ;  but  we  have  indisputable  evidence  that 
it  does  both,  therefore,  &c.'r 

We  are  told  that  Epicurus,  in  another  of  his  works,  distinguished  The  two 
in  the  soul  the  irrational  part,  which  is  diffused  through  the  body  £3?  where 
generally,  from  the  rational  part,  which  is  located  in  the  breast,  as  is  located, 
manifest  from  the  feelings  of  fear  and  joy.     This  corresponds  to  the 
distinction  made  by  Lucretius  between  anima  and  animus. 

Astronomy. 

In  considering  that  part  of  Epicurus's  system  that  treats  of  Astro- 
nomy and  Meteorology,  it  is  particularly  necessary"  to  bear  in  mind  the 
object  with  which  he  speculates.  He  seeks  to  understand  the  pheno- 
mena of  the  heavens  for  no  practical  purpose,  but  solely  for  subjective 
satisfaction — to  enable  the  mind  to  account  for  them  to  itself,  without 
the  necessity  of  imagining  any  supernatural  agency  at  work. 

He  conceives  this  class  of  appearances  as  peculiarly  removed  from  Certainty 
direct  observation  by  their  distance,  and  therefore  that  a  knowledge  of  J^VeVfor 
them  can  be  arrived  at  only  by  inference — by  the  suggestions  of  the 
fancy  as  tested  by  the  analogy  of  familiar  facts.     Absolute  truth  and 
certainty,  therefore,  are  not  to  be  looked  for,  nor  are  they  necessary. 
Of  various  explanations,  all  equally  conformable  to  the  analogy  of 
things  around  us,  any  one  is  satisfactory  to  the  mind,  and  therefore  as 
good  as  true. 

"  The  phenomena  of  the  heavens  admit  of  various  causes  being  Phenomena 
assigned  for  their  production,  equally  conformable  to  the  facts  learned 


198 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


Descriptive 
astronomy 
useless. 


Size  of  the 
sun  and 

stars. 

Causes  of 
their  motion. 


Source  of  the 
moon's  light. 


Appearance 
of  a  face  in 
the  moon. 


Eclipses. 


Clouds. 


Moral 
philosophy. 


from  the  senses.  If,  then,  in  thinking  of  any  appearance,  we  suppose 
it  brought  about  by  the  same  cause  that  produces  another  appearance 
which  gives  no  alarm  or  uneasiness,  we  are  as  much  delivered  from 
uneasiness  as  if  we  saw  that  such  is  the  cause  of  it.  At  all  events, 
whatever  way  we  may  suppose  them  to  take  place,  they  have  clearly 
no  connection  with  any  immortal  happy  intelligences — a  supposition 
introducing  conflict  and  perturbation." 

It  was  only  the  knowledge  of  the  causes  of  the  movements — what 
we  call  physical  astronomy — that  Epicurus  considered  worthy  of  pur- 
suit ;  descriptive  and  historical  astronomy  he  despised. 

"  As  to  a  mere  description  or  historical  record  of  risings  and  settings 
of  stars,  and  tropical  movements  and  eclipses,  and  such  like,  that  has 
no  tendency  to  promote  happiness ;  on  the  contrary,  those  that  are 
occupied  with  these  things,  but  remain  ignorant  of  the  causes,  are 
perhaps  more  exposed  to  fear  and  perturbation  than  others." 

We  shall  now  be  prepared  to  read  a  few  specimens  of  Epicurus's 
explanations  of  particular  phenomena  without  a  smile  ;  worthless 
and  puerile  as  science,  from  his  point  of  view  they  have  a  meaning 
and  a  value. 

"  The  magnitude  of  the  sun  and  of  the  other  stars  is,  as  regards  us, 
such  as  it  appears  to  be.  If  their  magnitude  were  diminished  by  their 
distance,  much  more  would  their  brilliancy. 

"  As  to  their  motions,  we  may  conceive  them  as  owing  to  the  re- 
volution of  the  whole  heaven,  or  that  the  heaven  stands  still  and  the 
stars  move,  according  to  a  necessity  generated  in  them  at  the  birth  of 
the  world,  their  motion  being  kept  up  by  the  tendency  of  fire  to  ad- 
vance towards  its  aliment. 

"  Again,  it  is  admissible  that  the  moon  may  have  light  of  herself, 
and  it  is  admissible  that  she  may  receive  it  from  the  sun ;  for  we 
behold  around  us  many  bodies  having  light  of  themselves,  and  many 
receiving  it  from  other  bodies.  So  that  the  heavenly  phenomena 
present  no  difficulties,  when  we  bear  in  mind  that  they  may  be  caused 
in  many  ways. 

"  The  appearance  of  a  face  in  the  moon  may  be  viewed  as  arising 
either  from  an  alteration  in  the  structure  of  the  parts,  or  from  some- 
thing interposed,  or  in  any  way  that  is  in  accordance  with  things  that 
we  know  with  certainty. 

"  Eclipses  of  the  sun  and  moon  may  be  caused  by  extinction — a  fact 
familiar  to  us, — or  by  the  interposition  of  something  else,  such  as  the 
earth,  or  the  heaven,  or  anything  of  that  kind. 

"  Clouds  may  have  many  causes ;  they  may  be  condensations  of  the 
air,  compressions  of  the  winds,  conglomerations  of  atoms  of  a  special 
kind,  or  emanations  from  the  earth  and  the  waters," 

Moral  Philosophy. — The  Gods. 

It  remains  to  sketch  briefly  those  doctrines  of  Epicurus  that  bear 
more  directly  on  moral  subjects.  His  physical  speculations  pave  the 


EPICURUS.  199 

way  for  his  moral  teaching :  they  furnish  the  negative  conditions  of 
happiness,  by  enabling  him  to  allay  all  vain  terrors  and  perturbations. 
The  chief  source  of  those  terrors  is  the  belief  in  supernatural  agents. 
Epicuras's  cosmogony  and  natural  philosophy  enable  him  to  dispense 
with  all  such  agency  in  the  physical  world  as  unnecessary ;  and  he 
considers  this  as  the  starting  point  in  proceeding  to  lay  down  the  rules 
of  life. 

Epicurus  does  not  deny  that  there  are  gods.    The  fact  that  we  have  The  gods, 
a  notion  of  such  beings  proves  to  him  their  existence.     He  believes  l^exS™1 
that  the  visions  of  sleep  have  real  objects  corresponding  to  them,  being 
produced  by  images  of  those  objects  floating  about  in  the  air.     In  a 
similar  way  we  come  by  our  ideas  of  the  gods.    Images  or  emanations 
thrown  off  from  them  flow  in  upon  us,  accompanied  with  the  most 
pleasurable  feelings,  and  thus  give  us  a  conception  of  what  a  perfectly 
happy  and  incorruptible  being  is.1     The  perfect  happiness  and  un-  Their  perfect 
changeableness  of  the  gods  he  assumes  as  an  indisputable  fact,  and  JjJJ^J[J^™ 
makes  it  the  foundation  of  his  reasoning  respecting  them.     Hence  his  ruptibiiity. 
famous  maxim  :  "  A  happy  and  imperishable  being  neither  has  trouble 
itself,  nor  causes  trouble  to  any  other  being."     He  had  in  his  physics 
obviated  the  necessity  of  employing  the  gods  in  creating  or  moving 
the  machinery  of  the  world,  and  he  now  deprecates  the  very  thought 
as  impious. 

"  First  of  all,  believe  that  God  is  a  being  imperishable  and  happy,  Their 
as  the  common  conception  of  God  dictates ;  and  attach  to  that  con-  JlSi™  f«n? 
ception  nothing  incompatible  with  incorruptibility  and  happiness.  *  *  ail  emotion. 
Beware  of  attributing  the  revolutions  of  the  heaven,  and  eclipses,  and 
the  rising  and  setting  of  stars,  either  to  the  original  contrivance  or 
continued  regulation  of  such  a  being.     For  business,  and  cares,  and 
anger,  and  benevolence,  are  not  accordant  with  happiness,  but  arise 
from  weakness,  and  fear,  and  dependence  upon  others.     Nor  must  we 
imagine  that  these  fiery  globes  are  themselves  happy  beings,  moving 
by  their  own  volition.     But  we  must  observe  reverence  in  all  that  we 
utter  on  such  subjects. 

"  There  are  gods ;  for  our  knowledge  of  them  is  direct  and  certain.  Popular 
But  they  are  not  in  all  respects  as  the  multitude  think  of  them;   for  of^he^ods 
most  of  the  actions  and  functions  commonly  attributed  to  the  gods,  impious, 
violate  the  fundamental  notion  of  these  happy  existences.     So  that 
the  impious  man  is  not  he  that  denies  the  gods  of  the  multitude,  but 

1  Epicurus  has  been  less  explicit  upon  this  point  in  his  letters  than  we  could  have 
wished.  The  above  account  of  his  theory  is  derived  from  Cicero's  report  of  it  (De 
Nat.  Deo.  i.  19).  "  Epicurus  autem,  qui  res  occultas  et  penitus  abditas  non  modo 
viderit  animo,  sed  etiam  sic  tractet,  ut  manu  nos  ducat,  docet  eum  esse  vim  ot 
naturam  deorum,  ut  primum  uon  sensu.  sed  mente  cernatur,  nee  soliditate  quadam, 
nee  ad  numerum  ;  ut  ea,  quae  ille  propter  firmitatem  (rrepe^j/to  appellat,  sed  ima- 
ginibus  similitudine  et  transitione  perceptis  :  deinde  cum  infinita  simillimarum 
imaginum  species  ex  innumerabilibus  individuis  exsistat  et  ad  nos  affluat  cum 
maximis  voluptatibus,  in  eas  imagines  mentem  intentam  infixamque  nostram  intelli- 
gentiam  capere,  quse  sit  et  beata  natura  et  aeterna." 


200 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


Presages. 


The  fear  of 
death, 


how  got 
rid  of. 


he  that  attaches  the  fancies  of  the  multitude  to  his  idea  of  the  gods. 
For  the  multitude  judge  of  the  virtues  of  the  gods  by  their  own,  and 
attribute  to  them,  alike  the  greatest  evils  that  befall  the  wicked  and 
the  prosperity  that  accrues  to  the  good." 

While  trying  to  account  for  the  belief  in  presages  or  omens,  drawn 
from  the  flight  of  birds  and  other  circumstances  connected  with 
animals,  Epicurus  ridicules  the  idea  of  a  divine  being  sitting  aloft 
watching  the  motions  of  the  animals,  and  taking  his  cue  from  that  as 
to  how  he  shall  regulate  the  machinery  of  the  world.  He  would  not 
set  any  living  thing,  whose  lot  he  meant  to  be  tolerable,  to  such  a 
dotard  task;  much  less  a  being  endowed  with  supreme  felicity. 
Lucretius  even  hints  the  .serious  displeasure  of  the  gods — if  the  gods 
could  be  angry — against  those  who  assign  them  any  such  ignoble  em- 
ployment as  at  all  interfering  with  this  world  and  the  concerns  of  men. 

These  notions  if  thou  chase  not,  driving  far 

Thoughts  of  the  gods  unworthy,  and  adverse 

To  the  pure  peace  they  covet,  thou  wilt  oft 

Foretaste  the  heavenly  vengeance  that  thou  dread' st. 

Not  that  the  majesty  of  powers  like  these 

Kage  e'er  can  violate,  or  dire  revenge 

Rouse  into  action  ;  but  that  thou  thyself 

Hence  thy  own  ease  wilt  shipwreck  with  the  storms 

Of  passions  fierce  and  foul ;  nor  e'er  approach 

With  hallowed  heart  the  temples  they  possess, 

Nor  deeply  musing  mark  with  soul  serene 

The  sacred  semblances  their  forms  emit, 

Traced  by  the  spirit,  thus  of  gods  assured. 

Judge,  then,  thyself,  what  life  must  hence  ensue.1 

Death  and  Pain. 

Epicurus  next  proceeds  to  cut  off  the  other  great  source  of  disquiet 
— the  fear  of  death.  For  this  he  had  prepared  the  way  in  his 
physiology,  when  he  proved  that  the  dissolution  of  the  body  involves 
that  of  the  soul. 

'*  The  most  terrible  of  all  evils,  death,  is  nothing  to  us  ;  since  when 
we  are,  death  is  not ;  and  when  death  z's,  we  are  not.  It  is  nothing 
then  to  the  dead  or  the  living ;  for  to  the  one  class  it  is  not  near,  and 
the  other  class  are  no  longer  in  existence.  The  wise  man  does  not  fear 
not-being-alive,  or  think  it  an  evil ;  for  the  question  is  not  between 

1  Quse  nisi  respuis  ex  animo  longeque  remittis 
Dis  indigna  putare  alienaque  pacis  eorum, 
Delibata  deum  per  te  tibi  numina  sancta 
Saepe  oberunt ;  non  quo  violari  summa  deum  vis 
Possit,  ut  ex  ira  poenas  petere  inbibat  acris, 
Sed  quia  tute  tibi  placida  cum  pace  quietos 
Constitues  magnos  irarum  volvere  fluctus, 
Nee  delubra  deum  placido  cum  pectore  adibis, 
Nee  de  coi'pore  quse  saneto  simulacra  feruntur 
In  mentes  hominum  divinse  nuntia  formee 
Suscipere  hasc  animi  tranquilla  pace  valebis. 
Inde  videre  licet  qualis  jam  vita  sequatur.  Lucr.  vi.  78. 


EPICURUS.  201 

being-alive  and  not-being-alive ;  but,  as  in  choosing  food,  we  prefer, 
not  that  which  is  most  in  quantity,  but  that  which  is  most  pleasant, 
so  we  value  time  not  for  its  length,  but  for  its  agreeableness." 

Having  thus  taken  away  the  terrors  of  death  by  a  syllogism,  he 
addresses  himself  to  the  kindred  subject  of  bodily  pain. 

"Continuous  bodily  pain  is  not  of  long  duration:  extreme  pain  Pain  of  short 
lasts  very  short  time  indeed ;  where  there  is  an  excess  of  pain  over  du    lon* 
pleasure  at  all,  it  never  continues  many  days ;  and  when  disorders  are 
of  long  continuance,  pleasurable  feeling  predominates  over  painful." 

The  Chief  Good. 

The  chief  disturbers  of  happiness  being  thus  banished,  the  next  step 
is  to  determine  its  positive  elements.  In  what  does  happiness  con- 
sist ?  in  other  words,  what  is  the  chief  good  ?  Pleasure,  answers  Pleasure  the 
Epicurus.  And,  according  to  his  canon,  he  could  not  have  answered  cue  g°° 
otherwise.  The  sources  and  tests  of  all  ethical  truth  are  the  feelings 
(TraO/y),  and  these  are  two.  pleasure  and  pain.  Now  all  animals  from 
the  moment  of  their  birth  delight  in  pleasure  and  are  offended  with 
pain,  by  their  very  nature  and  without  reason ;  and  they  are  prompted 
instinctively  to  seek  the  one  and  avoid  the  other.  Since  the  feelings 
then  are  the  criteria  in  all  such  questions,  pleasure  is  the  only  good 
and  pain  is  the  only  evil,  and  every  action  is  to  be  judged  by  its 
effect  in  producing  the  one  or  the  other. 

But  what  is  pleasure  ?     Here  Epicurus  differed  from  Aristippus,  what  is 
who  also  held  that  pleasure  is  the  chief  good.     According  to  Aris- pleasure? 
tippus  and  his  school,  before  there  is  pleasure,  there  must  be  positive 
delightful  sensations  amounting    to  excitement  and  emotion.     They 
also  held  that  bodily  pain  was  worse  than  mental.     Epicurus,  on  the 
contrary,  teaches  that  freedom   from   disquiet  and  pain,  from  cold,  it  is  freedom 
hunger,  and  thirst,  and  from  unsatisfied  desires,  is,  of  itself,  pleasure. 
Positive  excitement   may  be  necessary  for  joy  and   delight,  but  for 
pleasure  tranquillity  is  enough.     He  also  maintains  that  the  sufferings 
of  the  mind  are  incomparably  worse  than  those  of  the  body  ;  for  flesh 
suffers  only  from  present  pain,  but  the  soul  suffers  from  the  past,  the 
present,  and  the  future. 

The  tone  of  Epicurus's  moral  system  is  thus  quietistic,  and,  his 
definition  of  pleasure  being  of  a  negative  kind,  he  is  able  to  arrive  at 
practical  precepts,  which  even  his  enemies  could  not  find  fault  with. — 
But  we  will  let  him  speak  for  himself. 

"  For  a  correct  theory  of  the  desires  leads  us  to  settle  all  questions  Ease  of 
as  to  what  we  are  to  choose  and  what  avoid,  by  a  reference  to  the  {^^njjjty 
health  of  the  body  and  the  tranquillity  of  the  soul ;  since  this  is  the  of  mind  are 
end  of  the  art  of  living.     For  whatever  we  do,  we  do  it  for  the  pur- 
pose  of  avoiding  pain  or  perturbation ;  and  that  effected,  the  tempest, 
as  it  were,  of  the  soul  is  allayed  ;  the  restless  cravings  of  vital  instinct 
no  longer  urge  it  abroad  in  quest  of  something  felt  to  be  necessary  to 
complete  the  good  of  body  and  soul." 


202 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Freedom 
from  pain 
proved  to  be 
pleasure. 

Every 
pleasure 
not  to  be 
chosen. 


Why 

contentment 
is  good. 


Sensual 
pleasure 
not  meant. 


Limit  of 
bodily 
pleasure. 
The  desires. 


Is  pleasure 
ever  an  evil  ? 


That  this  negative  state  is  actually  pleasure,  he  makes  out  by  a  sort 
of  verbal  juggle  not  uncommon  in  ancient  dialectics. 

"  For  we  are  in  want  of  pleasure,  when,  from  pleasure  not  being 
present,  we  are  in  pain;  but  when  we  are  not  in  pain,  then  we  are 
not  in  want  of  pleasure.  And  for  this  reason  we  call  pleasure  the 
beginning  and  end  of  the  art  of  living.  Not  that  every  pleasure  is  to 
be  chosen ;  on  the  contrary,  we  avoid  many  pleasures  when  a  pre- 
ponderance of  inconvenience  would  attend  them,  and  many  pains  we 
count  better  than  pleasures,  when  a  greater  pleasure  will  follow  the 
suffering. 

"  Every  pleasure  is  in  itself  good,  but  every  pleasure  is  not  to  be 
chosen  ;  just  as  every  pain  is  an  evil,  and  yet  every  pain  is  not,  because 
it  is  so,  to  be  avoided.  For  in  every  case  this  must  be  determined  by 
comparison,  and  by  a  regard  to  what  is  upon  the  whole  suitable  and 
unsuitable. 

"  We  call  contentment  a  great  good ;  not  as  if  it  were  a  thing  in 
itself  desirable  to  have  little  of  the  means  of  life  ;  but  that,  if  much  be 
not  our  lot,  we  may  be  able  to  enjoy  little :  convinced  that  those  men 
enjoy  luxury  most,  who  can  most  readily  do  without  it. 

"  When  we  say  that  pleasure  is  the  end  of  life,  we  do  not  mean  the 
pleasures  of  the  debauchee  or  sensualist,  as  some  from  ignorance  or 
from  malignity  represent,  but  freedom  of  the  body  from  pain  and  of 
the  soul  from  anxiety.  For  it  is  not  continuous  drinkings  and  re  veil  ings, 
nor  the  society  of  women,  nor  rare  viands  and  other  luxuries  of  the 
table,  that  constitute  a  pleasant  life;  but  sober  contemplation  that 
searches  out  the  grounds  of  choice  and  avoidance,  and  banishes  those 
chimeras  that  harass  the  mind. 

"  When  once  the  pain  arising  from  a  want  is  removed,  bodily 
pleasure  admits  of  no  further  increase  ;  anything  more  only  varies  it. 

"  Of  the  desires  some  are  natural  and  necessary,  such  as  drink  when 
one  is  thirsty ;  some  are  natural  but  not  necessary,  such  as  a  desire 
for  luxuries  that  only  vary  pleasure  and  do  not  remove  pain  ;  others 
are  neither  natural  nor  necessary,  but  owe  their  origin  to  vain  opinions, 
such  as  a  passion  for  civic  distinctions  and  honours. 

"  Those  desires  that  do  not  end  in  pain  .when  left  unsatisfied,  are 
not  necessary  ;  and  their  craving  is  easily  silenced,  when  their  gratifica- 
tion is  difficult,  or  they  seem  likely  to  produce  mischief." 

As  the  natural  and  necessary  desires  are  easily  satisfied,  the  means 
of  a  happy  life  are  thus  within  the  reach  of  all,  without  struggle  or 
difficulty. 

"  No  pleasure  is  in  itself  an  evil,  but  the  means  of  procuring  some 
pleasures  are  attended  with  consequences  that  are  destructive  of  the 
pleasures. 

"  If  the  means  to  which  sensualists  owe  their  pleasures  dispelled 
the  anxieties  ,of  the  mind — as  well  those  connected  with  supernatural 
objects  as  with  death  and  pain, — and  if  they  enabled  them  to  set  limits 
to  their  desires,  we  should  have  no  grounds  to  blame  them  for  taking 


EPICURUS.  203 

their  fill  of  pleasure,  wherever  they  could  find  it,  provided  it  were 
attended  with  no  pain  or  grief  from  any  quarter ;  for  that  is  the  only 
evil." 

The  whole  question  of  ethics,  then,  comes  to  a  calculation  and 
balancing  of  pleasures  and  pains ;  in  other  words,  the  cardinal  virtue  Prudence 
is  prudence.     This  Epicurus  lays  down  explicitly. 

"  The  principle  that  guides  all  our  decisions  is  prudence,  the  most 
valuable  part  of  philosophy;  for  on  it  are  grounded  all  the  other 
virtues,  teaching  us  that  there  is  no  living  happily  without  living  pru- 
dently, and  honourably,  and  justly ;  nor  prudently,  and  honourably, 
and  justly,  without  living  happily.  For  the  virtues  are  indissolubly 
connected  with  a  happy  life." 

Justice. 

The  greater  part  of  the  ethical  doctrines  of  Epicurus — as  indeed  of 
the  ancient  philosophers  generally — have  reference  to  the  individual  ; 
in  other  words,  it  is  chiefly  personal  morality  that  he  looks  to.  Justice  Justice 
is  almost  the  only  social  virtue  on  which  we  have  his  opinions,  at  any  pr"^en{ce. 
length,  in  his  own  words ;  and  that  he  rests  on  the  same  prudential 
basis  as  he  does  temperance.  Injustice  is  an  evil,  because  it  exposes 
the  individual  to  disquietude  from  other  men;  justice  is  a  virtue, 
because  it  secures  him  from  this  disquietude.  The  doctrine  is  thus 
established : — 

"  Natural  justice  is  an  agreement  of  convenience  to  avoid  injuring  Has  no 
and  being  injured.     In  the  case  of  animals,  which  are  incapable  of  without6 
entering  into  such  contracts,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  justice  or  injus-  compact, 
tice.    Justice  would  have  no  existence  were  it  not  for  contracts  having 
been  made  somewhere  or  other  to  abstain  from  mutual  injury. 

"  Injustice  is  not  an  evil  in  itself;  but  becomes  so  from  the  fear  How 
that  haunts  the  injurer  of  not  being  able  to  escape  the  appointed  Some* 
avengers  of  such  acts.    When  a  man  does  anything,  however  secretly,  an  evil» 
in  violation  of  one  of  those  agreements  that  mankind  have  entered  into 
for  the  mutual  preservation  of  their  interests,  he  can  never  feel  sure 
that  he  will  go  undetected,  even  though  he  may  have  already  escaped 
ten  thousand  times ;  for  until  his  death,  it  is  always  uncertain  whether 
he  will  finally  escape." 

The  duties  of  friendship  and  good  fellowship  are  inculcated  on  the 
same  grounds  of  security  to  the  individual. 

"  The  best  way  to  secure  one's  self  from  molestation  from  other  and 
men,  is  to  make  friends  and  allies  of  all  that  we  can ;  and  where  we  arivej?tduSe.ip 
cannot  make  friends,  to  avoid   making   enemies.     They  attain  the 
greatest  security  who  make  their  social  intercourse  the  most  pleasant 
to  one  another." 

The  great  prudential  principle,  of  avoiding  everything  that  can  entail 
anxiety  and  trouble,  is  rigorously  carried  out  by  Epicurus  in  every 
detail  of  conduct  that  he  notices.     He  lays  down,  for  instance,  as  The  wise 
attributes  of  his  « wise  man,'  that  he  will  take  no  part  in  politics,  and  JJJJ  office"0' 


204: 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


nor  marry. 


Successors 
of  Epicurus. 


Modern 
Epicureans. 


that  he  will  not  marry,  or  bring  up  children.  He  adds,  indeed,  that 
circumstances  may  at  times  justify  a  departure  from  these  rules ;  but 
this  does  not  obviate  the  absurd  consequences  that  evidently  flow  from 
them.  Accordingly,  this  doctrine  has  been  severely  handled  by  several 
ancient  philosophers,  particularly  by  Cicero1  and  Epictetus.8 

Successors. 

The  school  of  the  Garden  was  presided  over  successively  by  Her- 
marchus,  Polystratus,  Dionysius,  Basilides,  and  others,  and  the  philo- 
sophy continued  to  attract  numerous  adherents.  When  Greek 
philosophy  was  introduced  among  the  Romans,  the  system  of  Epicurus, 
though  never  so  popular  as  Stoicism,  was  adopted  by  many  distin- 
guished men.  Horace  and  Atticus  were  Epicureans,  and  the  splendid 
poem  of  Lucretius  must  have  recommended  the  system  to  many. 
Under  the  emperors,  Pliny  the  Younger  and  Lucian  of  Samosata  are 
known  to  have  been  followers  of  this  school. 

In  modern  times,  Epicureanism  was  resuscitated  in  France  by  Pierre 
Gassendi,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  scholars  and  philosophers  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  who  published  an  account  of  the  life,  and 
defence  of  the  character,  of  Epicurus  (Lugd.  Bat.  1(547).  He  was 
the  means  of  forming  a  sort  of  modern  school,  professing  the  doctrines 
of  the  Garden,  and  which,  meeting  at  first  in  the  salons  of  Ninon 
de  L'Enclos  in  Paris,  and  afterwards  at  Auteuil,  Seaux,  and  elsewhere, 
included  the  most  celebrated  men  and  women  of  that  and  the  succeed- 
ing age ;  among  others,  Moliere,  Madame  Scarron,  Saint  Evremont, 
the  Count  de  Grammont,  Madame  de  Mazarin,  the  Duke  of  Roche- 
foucault,  Rousseau,  Hamilton,  St.  Aulaire,  Fontenelle,  and  Voltaire. 


1  Ep,  ad  Famil.  vii.  12. 


2  Epict.  apud  Arrianum.  iii.  7. 


CICERO. 


BY 

JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN,  B.D. 

FORMERLY  FELLOW  OF  ORIEL  COLLEGE,   OXFORD. 


[This  article  has  already  appeared  in  the  volume  on  Roman  Literature :  as  it  gives 
an  account,  however,  of  the  Philosophy  of  Cicero,  it  is  inserted  again  in  this  place 
entire,  it  being  found  impossible  to  separate  the  Philosophy  from  the  Literature. — 
EDITOR.] 


MARCUS    TULLIUS    CICERO. 

FROM  u.  C.  647  TO  711 ;  A.  c.  107  TO  43. 

WE  now  turn  to  consider  the  political  character,  oratorical  talents, 
and  philosophical  writings  of  one  who  has  already  come  before  us  in 
our  poetical  division. 

Marcus  Tullius  Cicero  was  bora  at  Arpinum,  the  native  place  of 
Marius,1  in  the  year  of  Rome  647,  (A.C.  107,)  the  same  year  which 
gave  birth  to  the  Great  Pompey.  His  family  was  ancient  and  of 
equestrian  rank,  but  had  never  taken  part  in  the  public  affairs  of 
Rome,2  though  both  his  father  and  grandfather  were  persons  of  con- 
sideration in  the  part  of  Italy  to  which  they  belonged.3  His  father, 
being  himself  a  man  of  cultivated  mind,  determined  to  give  his  two 
sons  the  advantage  of  a  liberal  education,  and  to  fit  them  for  the 
prospect  of  those  public  employments  which  a  feeble  constitution 
incapacitated  himself  from  undertaking.  Marcus,  the  elder  of  the  Birth  and 
two,  soon  displayed  indications  of  a  superior  intellect,  and  we  are  told  education, 
that  his  schoolfellows  carried  home  such  accounts  of  his  talents,  that 
their  parents  often  visited  the  school  for  the  sake  of  seeing  a  youth 
who  gave  such  promise  of  future  eminence.4  One  of  his  earliest 
masters  was  the  poet  Archias,  whom  he  defended  afterwards  in  his 
consular  year :  under  his  instructions  he  made  such  progress  as  to 
compose  a  poem,  though  yet  a  boy,  on  the  fable  of  Glaucus,  which 
had  formed  the  subject  of  one  of  the  tragedies  of  JEschylus.  Soon 
after  he  assumed  the  manly  gown,  he  was  placed  under  the  care  of 
Scaevola  the  celebrated  lawyer  whom  he  introduces  so  beautifully  into 
several  of  his  philosophical  dialogues ;  and  in  no  long  time  he  gained 
a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  laws  and  political  institutions  of  his 
country.5 

This  was  about  the  time  of  the  Social  war ;  and,  according  to  the 
Roman  custom,  which  made  it  a  necessary  part  of  education  to  learn 
the  military  art  by  personal  service,  Cicero  took  the  opportunity  of 
serving  a  campaign    under  the  Consul   Pompeius  Strabo,   father  of 
Pompey  the  Great.     Returning   to  pursuits    more  congenial   to  his  Early 
natural  taste,  he  commenced  the  study  of  philosophy  under  Philo  the  ""Pjjj1* 
Academic,  of  whom  we  shall  speak  more  particularly  hereafter.6     But  A.  c.  89. ' 
his  chief  attention  was   reserved  for   oratory,  to  which   he  applied 

1  De  Legg.  ii.  3.  2  Contra  Bull.  ii.  1. 

3  De  Legg.  ii.  1,  3,  16  ;  de  Orat.  ii.  66.  4  Plutarch,  in  Vita. 

5  Middleton's  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  13,  4to  ;  de  Clar.  Orat.  89.  «  Ibid. 


208 


ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 


Choice  of 
profession. 

Defence  of 
Roscius 
Amerinus  his 
first  cause. 


His  travels. 


Returns  to 
Rome, 
u.  c.  677. 
A.  C.  77. 


Quaestor  of 
Sicily. 


himself  with  the  assistance  of  Molo,  the  first  rhetorician  of  the  day  ; 
while  Diodotus  the  Stoic  exercised  him  in  the  argumentative  subtleties 
for  which  the  disciples  of  Zeno  were  so  celebrated.  At  the  same 
time  he  declaimed  daily  in  Greek  and  Latin  with  some  young  noble- 
men who  were  competitors  in  the  same  race  of  honours  with  himself. 

Of  the  two  professions,1  which,  from  the  existence  of  external  and 
internal  disputes,  are  inseparable  alike  from  all  forms  of  government, 
while  that  of  arms,  by  its  splendour  and  importance,  secures  the 
almost  undivided  admiration  of  a  rising  and  uncivilised  people,  legal 
practice,  on  the  other  hand,  becomes  the  path  to  honours  in  later  and 
more  civilised  ages,  from  the  oratorical  accomplishments  by  which  it 
is  usually  attended.  The  date  of  Cicero's  birth  fell  precisely  during 
that  intermediate  state  of  things,  in  which  the  exclusive  glory  of 
military  exploits  was  prejudiced  by  the  very  opulence  and  luxury 
which  they  had  been  the  means  of  procuring ;  he  was  the  first  Roman 
who  found  his  way  to  the  highest  dignities  of  the  state  with  no  other 
recommendation  than  his  powers  of  eloquence,  and  his  merits  as  a 
civil  magistrate.2 

The  first  cause  of  importance  he  undertook  was  his  defence  of 
Roscius  Amerinus ;  in  which  he  distinguished  himself  by  his  spirited 
opposition  to  Sylla,  whose  favourite  Chrysogonus  was  prosecutor  in 
the  action.  This  obliging  him,  according  to  Plutarch,  to  leave  Rome 
on  prudential  motives,  he  employed  his  time  in  travelling  for  two 
years  under  pretence  of  his  health,  which,  he  tells  us,3  was  as  yet 
unequal  to  the  exertion  of  pleading.  At  Athens  he  met  with  T. 
Pomponius  Atticus,  whom  he  had  formerly  known  at  school,  and 
there  renewed  with  him  a  friendship  which  lasted  through  life,  in 
spite  of  the  change  of  interests  and  estrangements  of  affection  so 
commonly  attendant  on  turbulent  times.4  Here  too  he  attended  the 
lectures  of  Antiochus,  who,  under  the  name  of  Academic,  taught  the 
dogmatic  doctrines  of  Plato  and  the  Stoics.  Though  Cicero  evinced 
at  first  considerable  dislike  of  his  philosophical  views,5  he  seems 
afterwards  to  have  adopted  the  sentiments  of  the  Old  Academy, 
which  they  much  resembled ;  and  not  till  late  in  life  to  have 
relapsed  into  the  sceptical  tenets  of  his  former  instructor  Philo." 
After  visiting  the  principal  philosophers  and  rhetoricians  of  Asia,  in 
his  thirtieth  year  he  returned  to  Rome,  so  strengthened  and  improved 
both  in  bodily  and  mental  powers,  that  he  soon  eclipsed  in  speaking 
all  his  competitors  for  public  favour.  So  popular  a  talent  speedily 
gained  him  the  suffrage  of  the  commons ;  and,  being  sent  to  Sicily  as 
quaestor,  at  a  time  when  the  metropolis  itself  was  visited  with  a 

1  Pro  MursEna,  14 ;  de  Orat.  i.  9. 

2  In  Catil.  iii.  6  ;  in  Pis.  3  ;  pro.  Sylla,  30 ;  pro  Dom.  37  ;  de  Harusp.  resp.  23  ; 
ad  Fam.  xv.  4.  3  De  Clar.  Orat.  91 

4  Middleton's  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  42,  4to.  5  Plutarch,  in  Vita". 

6  Warburton,  Div.  Leg.  lib.  iii.  sec.  3 ;  and  Vossius,  de  Nat.  Logic,  c.  viii. 
sec.  22. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  209 

a  scarcity  of  corn,  he  acquitted  himself  in  that  delicate  situation  with 
such  address,  as  to  supply  the  clamorous  wants  of  the  people  without 
oppressing   the   province   from  which   the    provisions  were   raised.1 
Returning  thence  with  greater  honours  than  had  ever  been  before 
decreed  to  a  Roman  governor,  he  ingratiated  himself  still  farther  in 
the  esteem  of  the  Sicilians,  by  undertaking  his  celebrated  prosecution  Prosecution 
of  Verres ;  who,  though  defended  by  the  influence  of  the  Metelli  and  of  Verres- 
the  eloquence  of  Hortensius,  was  at   length  driven  in  despair   into 
voluntary  exile. 

Five  years  after  his  quaestorship,  Cicero  was  elected  aedile,  a  post  jEdiie. 
of  considerable  expense  from  the  exhibition  of  games  connected  with 
it.2  In  this  magistracy  he  conducted  himself  with  singular  propriety;3 
for,  it  being  customary  to  court  the  people  by  a  display  of  splendour 
in  these  official  shows,  he  contrived  to  retain  his  popularity  without 
submitting  to  the  usual  alternative  of  plundering  the  provinces  or 
sacrificing  his  private  fortune.  The  latter  was  at  this  time  by  no 
means  ample;  but,  with  the  good  sense  and  taste  which  mark  his 
character,  he  preserved  in  his  domestic  arrangements  the  dignity  of  a 
literary  and  public  man,  without  any  of  the  ostentation  of  magnifi- 
cence which  often  distinguishes  the  candidate  for  popular  applause.4 

After  the  customary  interval  of  two  years,  he  was  returned  at  the 
head  of  the  list  as  praetor  ;5  and  now  made  his  first  appearance  in  the  praetor, 
rostrum  in  support  of  the  Mamilian  law,  which  will  be  found  in  the 
volume  of  this  Encyclopaedia  containing  the  public  history  of  Rome. 
About  the  same  time  he  defended  Cluentius.  At  the  expiration  of 
his  praetorship,  he  refused  to  accept  a  foreign  province,  the  usual 
reward  of  that  magistracy  ;6  but,  having  the  consulate  full  in  view, 
and  relying  on  his  interest  with  Caesar  and  Pompey,  he  allowed 
nothing  to  divert  him  from  that  career  of  glory  for  which  he  now 
believed  himself  to  be  destined. 

It  may  be  doubted,  indeed,  whether  any  individual  ever  rose  to 
power  by  more  virtuous  and  truly  honourable  conduct ;  the  integrity  Different 
of  his  public  life  was  only  equalled  by  the  correctness  of  his  private  estimates 
morals ;  and  it  may  at  first  sight  excite  our  wonder,  that  a  course  so 
splendidly  begun  should  afterwards  so  little  fulfil  its  early  promise, 
We  have,  in  our  memoir  of  Caesar,  contained  in  the  volume  above 
cited,  traced  his  course  from  the  period  of  his  consulate  to  his  praetor- 
ship  in  Cilicia,  and  found  each  year  diminish  his  influence  in  public 
affairs,  till  it  expired  altogether  with  the  death  of  Pompey.  This 
surprise,  however,  arises  in  no  small  degree  from  measuring  Cicero's 
political  importance  by  his  present  reputation,  and  confounding  the 
authority  he  deservedly  possesses  as  an  author,  with  the  opinions 
entertained  of  him  by  his  contemporaries  as  a  statesman.  From  the 
consequence  usually  attached  to  passing  events,  a  politician's  celebrity 

1  Pro  Plane.  26  ;  in  Verr.  v.  14.  2  Ibid. 

3  De  Offic.  ii.  17  ;  Middletou.  4  Pro  Dom.  58. 

5  In  Pis.  1.  6  Pro  MimenS,  20. 
[G.  R.  P.  j  P 


210  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

is  often  at  its  zenith  in  his  own  generation ;  while  the  author,  who  is 
in  the  highest  repute  with  posterity,  may  perhaps  have  been  little 
valued  or  courted  in  his  own  day.  Virtue  indeed  so  conspicuous  as 
that  of  Cicero,  studies  so  dignified,  and  oratorical  powers  so  command- 
ing, will  always  invest  their  possessor  with  a  large  portion  of  reputa- 
tion and  authority ;  and  this  is  nowhere  more  apparent  than  in  the 
enthusiastic  joy  displayed  on  his  return  from  exile.  But  unless  other 
qualities  be  added,  more  peculiarly  necessary  for  a  statesman,  they 
will  hardly  of  themselves  carry  that  weight  of  political  consequence 
which  some  writers  have  attached  to  Cicero's  public  life,  and  which 
his  own  self-love  led  him  to  appropriate. 

The  advice  of  the  oracle,1  which  had  directed  him  to  make  his  own 
genius,  not  the  opinion  of  the  people,  his  guide  to  immortality  (which 
in  fact  pointed  at  the  above-mentioned  distinction  between  the  fame  of 
a  statesman  and  of  an  author),  at  first  made  a  deep  impression  on  his 
mind ;  and  at  the  present  day  he  owes  his  reputation  principally  to 
those  pursuits  which,  as  Plutarch  tells  us,  exposed  him  to  the  ridicule 
and  even  to  the  contempt  of  his  contemporaries  as  "  a  pedant  and  a 
trifler."2  But  his  love  of  popularity  overcame  his  philosophy,  and  he 
commenced  a  career  which  gained  him  one  triumph  and  ten  thousand 
mortifications. 

It  is  not  indeed  to  be  doubted  that  in  his  political  course  he  was 
considerably  influenced  by  a  sense  of  duty.  To  many  it  may  even 
appear  that  a  public  life  was  best  adapted  for  the  display  of  his  parti- 
cular talents ;  that,  at  the  termination  of  the  Mithridatic  war,  Cicero 
was  in  fact  marked  out  as  the  very  individual  to  adjust  the  pretensions 
of  the  rival  parties  in  the  commonwealth,  to  withstand  the  encroach- 
ments of  Pompey,  and  to  baffle  the  arts  of  Caesar.  And  if  the  power 
of  swaying  and  controlling  the  popular  assemblies  by  his  eloquence ; 
if  the  circumstances  of  his  rank,  equestrian  as  far  as  family  was  con-, 
cerned,  yet  almost  patrician  from  the  splendour  of  his  personal 
honours ;  if  the  popularity  derived  from  his  accusation  of  Verres,  and 
defence  of  Cornelius,  and  the  favour  of  the  senate  acquired  by  the 
brilliant  services  of  his  consulate  ;  if  the  general  respect  of  all  parties 
His  which  his  learning  and  virtue  commanded ;  if  these  were  sufficient 

Consulate.  qualifications  for  a  mediator  between  contending  factions,  Cicero  was 
A!  c!  63.°'  indeed  called  upon  by  the  voice  of  his  country  to  that  most  arduous 
and  honourable  post.  And  in  his  consulate  he  had  seemed  sensible 
of  the  call :  "  Ita  est  a  me  consulates  peractus,"  he  declares  in  his 
speech  against  Piso,  "  ut  nihil  sine  consilio  senatus,  nihil  non  appro- 
bante  populo  Romano  egerim  ;  utsemper  in  rostris  curiam,  in  senatu 
populum  defenderim ;  ut  multitudinem  cum  principibus,  equestrem 
ordinem  cum  senatu  conjunxerim.8 

1  Plutarch,  in  Vita.  2  TpaiKos  /cat  ffxoXaffriKos.     Plutarch,  in  Vita. 

8  ["  I  have,  throughout  my  consulship,  so  acted,  that  I  have  done  nothing  with- 
out the  advice  of  the  senate — nothing  without  the  approval  of  the  Roman  people  ; 
that  I  have  ever  defended  the  senate  in  the  rostrum,  the  people  in  the  senate- 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  211 

Yet,  after  that  eventful  period,  we  see  him  resigning  his  high  station  Want  of 
to  Cato,  who,  with  half  his  abilities,  little  foresight,  and  no  address,1  UmneS. 
possessed  that  first  requisite  for  a  statesman,  firmness.  Cicero,  on  the 
contrary,  was  irresolute,  timid,  and  inconsistent.2  He  talked  indeed, 
largely  of  preserving  a  middle  course,8  but  he  was  continually  vacil- 
lating from  one  to  the  other  extreme;  always  too  confident  or  too 
dejected ;  incorrigibly  vain  of  success,  yet  meanly  panegyrizing  the 
government  of  an  usurper.  His  foresight,  sagacity,  practical  good 
sense,  and  singular  tact,  were  lost  for  want  of  that  strength  of  mind 
which  points  them  steadily  to  one  object.  He  was  never  decided, 
never  (as  has  sometimes  been  observed)  took  an  important  step  with- 
out afterwards  repenting  of  it.  Nor  can  we  account  for  the  firmness 
and  resolution  of  his  consulate,  unless  we  discriminate  between  the 
case  of  resisting  and  exposing  a  faction,  and  that  of  balancing  con- 
tending interests.  Vigour  in  repression  differs  widely  from  steadiness 
in  meditation ;  the  latter  requiring  a  coolness  of  judgment,  wrhich  a 
direct  attack  upon  a  public  foe  is  so  far  from  implying,  that  it  even 
inspires  minds  naturally  timid  with  unusual  ardour. 

His  consulate  was  succeeded  by  the  return  of  Pompey  from  the  First  Trium- 
east,  and  the  establishment  of  the  First  Triumvirate ;  which,  disap-  vi™te. 
pointing  his  hopes  of  political  greatness,  induced  him  to  resume  his  A.'cleo.' 
forensic  and  literary  occupations.     From  these  he  was  recalled,  after 
an  interval  of  four  years,  by  the  threatening  measures  of  Clodius,  who  at 
length  succeeded  in  driving  him  into  exile.  This  event,  which,  consider-  His  exile  and 
ing  the  circumstances  connected  writh  it,  was  one  of  the  most  glorious  *etur"'96 
of  his  life,  filled  him  with  the  utmost  distress  and  despondency.     He  A',  c.  58.  * 
wandered  about  Greece  bewailing  his  miserable  fortune,  refusing  the 
consolations  which  his  friends  attempted  to  administer,  and  shunning 
the  public  honours  with  which  the  Greek  cities  were  eager  to  load 
him.4     His  return,  which  took  place  in  the  course  of  the  following 
year,  reinstated  him  in  the  high  station  he  had  filled  at  the  termination 
of  his  consulate,  but  the  circumstances  of  the  times  did  not  allow  him 

house ;  that  I  have  ever  associated  the  populace  with  the  nobles,  the  equestrian 
order  with  the  senate." — Editor.']  l  Ad  Atticurn,  i.  18,  ii.  1. 

2  See  Montesquieu,  Grandeur  des  Remains,  ch.  xii.  3  Ad  Atticum,  i.  19. 

4  Ad  Atticum,  lib.  iii. ;  ad  Fam.  lib.  xiv. ;  pro  Sext.  22  ;  pro  Dom.  36  ;  Plutarch, 
in  Vita.  It  is  curious  to  observe  how  he  converts  the  alleviating  circumstances  of 
his  case  into  exaggerations  of  his  misfortune  :  he  writes  to  Atticus  :  "  Nam  quod  me 
tarn  saepe  et  tarn  vehementer  objurgas,  et  animo  infirmo  esse  dicis,  quaeso  ecquod 
tantum  malum  est  quod  in  mea"  calamitate  non  sit  ?  ecquis  unquam  ex  tarn  amplo 
statu,  tarn  in  bond  causa,  tantis  facultatibus  ingenii,  consilii,  gratias,  tantis  procsidiis 
bonorum  omnium,  concidit  ?"  ["  You  frequently  and  earnestly  reprove  me,  and 
call  me  weak-minded.  But  tell  me,  what  aggravation  of  misery  is  there  which 
belongs  not  to  my  calamity  ?  Has  any  man  ever  fallen  from  so  high  a  position,  in 
so  good  a  cause,  with  such  ample  resources  of  ability,  of  judgment,  of  influence, 
with  such  powerful  support  of  all  good  men?" — Editor."]  iii.  10.  Other  persons 
would  have  reckoned  the  justice  of  their  cause,  and  the  countenance  of  good  men, 
alleviations  of  their  distress ;  and  so,  when  others  were  concerned,  he  himself 
thought ;  pro  Sext.  12. 

P2 


212  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

to  retain  it.  We  have  elsewhere1  described  his  vacillations  betwee 
the  several  members  of  the  Triumvirate  ;  his  defence  of  Vatinius  to 
please  Caesar ;  and  of  his  bitter  political  enemy  Gabinius,  to  ingratiate 
himself  with  Pompey.  His  personal  history  in  the  meanwhile  fur- 
nishes little  worth  noticing,  except  his  election  into  the  college  of 
Augurs,  a  dignity  which  had  been  a  particular  object  of  his  ambition. 
Governor  of  His  appointment  to  the  government  of  Cilicia,  which  took  place  about 
five  years  after  his  return  from  exile,  was  in  consequence  of  Pompey's 
law,  which  obliged  those  senators  of  consular  or  praetorian  rank,  who 
had  never  held  any  foreign  command,  to  divide  the  vacant  provinces 
among  them.  This  office,  which  we  have  above  seen  him  decline,  he 
now  accepted  with  feelings  of  extreme  reluctance,  dreading  perhaps 
the  military  occupations  which  the  movements  of  the  Parthians  in 
that  quarter  rendered  necessary.  Yet  if  we  consider  the  state  and 
splendour  with  which  the  proconsuls  were  surrounded,  and  the  opportu- 
nities afforded  them  for  almost  legalised  plunder  and  extortion,  we 
must  confess  that  this  insensibility  to  the  common  objects  of  human 
cupidity  was  the  token  of  no  ordinary  mind.  The  singular  disinterest- 
edness and  integrity  of  his  administration,  as  well  as  his  success  against 
the  enemy,  are  adverted  to  in  our  memoir  of  Caesar.  The  latter  he 
exaggerated  from  the  desire  universally  felt  of  appearing  to  excel  in 
those  things  for  which  nature  has  not  adapted  us. 

His  return  to  Italy  was  followed  by  earnest  endeavours  to  reconcile 
Pompey  with  Caesar,  and  by  very  spirited  behaviour  when  Caesar  re- 
quired his  presence  in  the  senate.  On  this  occasion  he  felt  the  glow 
of  self-approbation  with  which  his  political  conduct  seldom  repaid 
him  :  "  Credo"  he  writes  to  Atticus,  "  credo  hunc  (Caesarem)  me  lion 
amare ;  at  ego  me  amavi :  quod  mini  jam  pridem  usu  non  venit."2 
But  this  independent  temper  was  but  transient.  At  no  period  of  his 
public  life  did  he  display  such  miserable  vacillation  as  at  the  opening 
of  the  civil  war.  We  find  him  first  accepting  a  commission  from  the 
Republic  ;3  then  courting  Caesar ;  next,  on  Pompey's  sailing  for 
Greece,  resolving  to  follow  him  thither ;  presently  determining  to 
stand  neuter ;  then  bent  on  retiring  to  the  Pompeians  in  Sicily ;  and, 
when  after  all  he  had  joined  their  camp  in  Greece,  discovering  such 
timidity  and  discontent,  as  to  draw  from  Pompey  the  bitter  reproof, 
"  Cupio  ad  hostes  Cicero  transeat,  ut  nos  timeat."4 

General  con-       On  his  return  to  Italy,  after  the  battle  of  Pharsalia,  he  had  the 

battifo" the  mortification  of  learning  that  his  brother  and  nephew  were  making 

Pharsalia.       their  peace  with  Caesar,  by  throwing  on  himself  the  blame  of  their 

opposition  to  the  conqueror.     And  here  we  see  one  of  those  elevated 

1  History  of  the  Roman  Empire,  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana. 

2  ["  I  believe  I  have  not  his  (Cassar's)  approval ;  but  I  have  my  own ;  which, 
for  a  long  time,  I  have  not  been  used  to  enjoy." — Editor.']     Ad  Atticum,  ix.  18. 

3  Ibid.  vii.  11,  ix.  6,  119,  x.  8  and  9,  &c. 

*  ["  I  wish  Cicero  would  go  over  to  the  enemy,  that  he  may  fear  us." — Editor.'] 
Macrobius,  Saturnalia,  ii.  ?. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  213 

points  of  character,  which  redeem  the  weaknesses  of  his  political 
conduct ;  for,  hearing  that  Ca?sar  had  retorted  on  Quintus  the  charge 
which  the  latter  had  brought  against  himself,  he  wrote  a  pressing 
letter  in  his  favour,  declaring  his  brother's  safety  was  not  less  precious 
to  him  than  his  own,  and  representing  him  not  as  the  leader,  but  as 
the  companion  of  his  voyage.1 

Now  too  the  state  of  his  private  affairs  reduced  him  to  great  per-  Private 
plexity ;  the  sum  he  had  advanced  to  Pompey  had  impoverished  him,  ^^rass" 
and  he  was  forced  to  stand  indebted  to  Atticus  for  present  assistance.2 
These  difficulties  led  him  to  take  a  step  which  it  has  been  customary 
to  regard  with  great   severity — the  divorce    of  his   wife   Terentia,  Divorces 
though  he  was  then  in  his  sixty-second  year,  and  his  marriage  with  Terentia,  and 
his  rich  ward  Publilia,  who  was  of  an  age  disproportionate  to  his  Pubuiia. 
own.3     Yet,  in  reviewing  this  proceeding,  we  must  not  adopt  the 
modern  standard  of  propriety,  forgetful  of  a  condition  of  society  which 
reconciled  actions  even  of  moral  turpitude  with  a  reputation  for  honour 
and  virtue.     Terentia  was  a  woman  of  a  most  imperious  and  violent 
temper,  and  (what  is  more  to  the  purpose)  had  in  no  slight  degree 
contributed  to  his  present  embarrassments  by  her  extravagance  in  the 
management  of  his  private  affairs.4     By  her  he  had  two  children,  a  His  children, 
son,  born  the  year  before  his  consulate,  and  a  daughter  whose  loss  he 
was  now  fated  to  experience.     To  Tullia  he  was  tenderly  attached,  nrief  at  the 
not  only  from  the  excellence  of  her  disposition,  but  from  her  love  of  u^Tos!111*' 
polite  literature;  and  her  death  tore  from  him,  as  he  so  pathetically  A.C.  46. 
laments  to  Sulpicius,  the  only  comforts  which  the  course  of  public 
events  had  left  him.5     At  first  he  was  inconsolable ;  and,  retiring  to 
a  little  island  near  his  estate  at  Antium,  buried  himself  in  the  woods,  secedes  from 
to  avoid  the  sight  of  man.6     His  distress  was  increased  by  the  un-  Public  life- 
feeling  conduct  of  Publilia  ;  whom  he  soon  divorced  for  testifying  joy  Divorces 
at  the  death  of  her  step-daughter.     On  this  occasion  he  wrote  his  *>ublllia- 
Treatise  on  Consolation,  with  a  view  to  alleviate  his  mental  sufferings ; 
and,  with  the  same  object,  he  determined  on  dedicating  a  temple  to 
his  daughter  as  a  memorial  of  her  virtues  and  his  affection.     His 
friends  were  assiduous  in  their  attentions ;  and  Caesar,  who  had  treated 
him  with  extreme  kindness  on  his  return  from  Egypt,  signified  the 
respect  he  bore  his  character,  by  sending  him  a  letter  of  condolence 
from  Spain,7  where  the  remains  of  the  Pompeian  party  still  engaged 
him.     Caesar  had  shortly  before  given  a  still  stronger  proof  of  his 
favour,  by  replying  to  a  work  which  Cicero  had  drawn  up  in  praise 
of  Cato  ;8  but  no  attentions,  however  considerate,  could  soften  Cicero's 
vexation  at  seeing  the  country  he  had  formerly  saved  by  his  exertions, 
now  subjected  to  the  tyranny  of  one  master.     His  speeches,  indeed, 
for  Marcellus  and  Ligarius,  exhibit  traces  of  inconsistency;   but  for 

1  Ad  Atticum,  xi.  8,  9,  10  and  12.  2  Ibid.  xi.  13. 

3  Ad  Fam.  iv.  14 ;  Middleton,  vol.  ii.  p.  149.  4  Ibid. 

5  Ad  Fam.  iv.  6.  6  Ad  Atticum,  xii.  15,  &c. 

7  Ibid.  xiii.  20.  8  Ibid.  xii.  40  and  41. 


virtues. 


214  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

the  most  part  he  retired  from  public  business,  and  gave  himself  up  to 
the  composition  of  those  works,  which,  while  they  mitigated  his 
political  sorrows,  have  secured  his  literary  celebrity. 

The  murder  of  Caesar,  which  took  place  in  the  following  year,  once 
more  brought  him  on  the  stage  of  public  affairs ;  but,  as  we  intend 
our  present  paper  to  be  an  account  of  his  private  life  and  literary 
character,  we  reserve  the  sequel  of  his  history,  including  his  unworthy 
treatment  of  Brutus,  his  coalition  with  OctaVius,  his  orations  against 
Antonius,  his  proscription  and  death,  for  another  department  of  our 
private  work.  On  the  whole,  antiquity  may  be  challenged  to  produce  an  indivi- 
dual more  virtuous,  more  perfectly  amiable  than  Cicero.  None  interest 
more  in  their  life,  none  excite  more  painful  emotions  in  their  death. 
Others,  it  is  true,  may  be  found  of  loftier  and  more  heroic  character, 
who  awe  and  subdue  the  mind  by  the  grandeur  of  their  views,  or  the 
intensity  of  their  exertions.  But  Cicero  engages  our  affections  by  the 
integrity  of  his  public  conduct,  the  correctness  of  his  private  life,  the 
generosity,1  placability,  and  kindness  of  his  heart,  the  playfulness  of 
his  temper,  the  warmth  of  his  domestic  attachments.  In  this  respect 
his  letters  are  invaluable.  "  Here  we  may  see  the  genuine  man  with- 
out disguise  or  affectation,  especially  in  his  letters  to  Atticus ;  to 
whom  he  talked  with  the  same  frankness  as  to  himself,  opened  the 
rise  and  progress  of  each  thought ;  and  never  entered  into  any  affair 
without  his  particular  advice."2 

Apologies  for  It  must,  however,  be  confessed  that  the  publication  of  this  corre- 
Stenc0nin  sPondence  has  laid  open  the  defects  of  his  political  character.  Want 
public  life,  of  firmness  has  been  repeatedly  mentioned  as  his  principal  failing ; 
and  insincerity  is  the  natural  attendant  on  a  timid  and  irresolute  mind. 
On  the  other  hand  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  openness  and  candour 
are  rare  qualities  in  a  statesman  at  all  times,  and  while  the  duplicity  of 
weakness  is  despised,  the  insincerity  of  a  powerful,  but  crafty  mind, 
though  incomparably  more  odious,  is  too  commonly  regarded  with 
feelings  of  indulgence.  Cicero  was  deficient,  not  in  honesty,  but  in 
moral  courage;  his  disposition  too  was  conciliatory  and  forgiving; 
and  much  which  has  been  referred  to  inconsistency,  should  be  attri- 
buted to  the  generous  temper  which  induced  him  to  remember  the 
services  rather  than  the  neglect  of  Plancius,  and  to  relieve  the  exiled 
and  indigent  Verres.8  Much  too  may  be  traced  to  his  professional 
habits  as  a  pleader ;  which  led  him  to  introduce  the  licence  of  the 
forum  into  deliberative  discussions,  and  (however  inexcusably)  even 
into  his  correspondence  with  private  friends. 

Some  writers,  as  Lyttleton,  have  considered  it  an  aggravation  of 
Cicero's  inconsistencies,  that  he  was  so  perfectly  aware  of  what  was 
philosophically  upright  and  correct.  It  might  be  sufficient  to  reply, 

1  His  want  of  jealousy  towards  his  rivals  was  remarkable  ;  this  was  exemplified 
in  his  esteem  for  Hortensius,  and  still  more  so  in  his  conduct  towards  Calvus.  See 
Ad  Fam.  xv.  21.  *  Middleton,  vol.  ii.  p.  525,  4to. 

3  Pro  Plane. ;  Middleton,  vol.  i.  p.  108. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  215 

that  there  is  a  wide  difference  between  calmly  deciding  on  an  abstract 
point,  and  acting  on  that  decision  in  the  hurry  of  real  life ;  that  Cicero 
in  fact  was  apt  to  fancy  (as  all  will  fancy  when  assailed  by  interest  or 
passion,)  that  the  circumstances  of  his  case  constituted  it  an  exception 
to  the  broad  principles  of  duty.  As  he  eloquently  expresses  himself 
in  his  defence  of  Plancius  :  "  Neque  enim  inconstantis  puto,  sententiam, 
tanquam  aliquod  navigium,  et  cursum,  ex  reipublicse  tempestate 
moderari.  Ego  vero  hsec  didici,  hasc  vidi,  haec  scripta  legi ;  haec  de 
sapientissimis  et  clarissimis  viris,  et  in  hac  republica,  et  in  aliis  civi- 
tatibus,  monumenta  nobis  literae  prodiderunt ;  non  semper  easdem 
sententias  ab  iisdem,  sed  quascunque  reipublicaa  status,  incliuatio 
temporum,  ratio  concordiaa  postularet,  esse  defendendas."1 

Thus  he  seems  to  consider  it  the  duty  of  a  mediator  alternately2  to 
praise  and  blame  both  parties  more  than  truth  allows,  if  by  these 
means  it  be  possible  either  to  flatter  or  to  frighten  them  into  an  adop- 
tion of  temperate  measures. 

But  the  argument  of  the  objectors  proceeds  on  an  entire  miscon-  The  Phiio- 
ception  of  the  design  and  purpose  with  which  the  ancients  prosecuted  anclentsf th 
philosophical  studies.     The  motives  and  principles  of  morals  were  Dot  more  specu- 
so  seriously  acknowledged  as  to  lead  to  a  practical  application  of  them 
to  the  conduct  of  life.     Even  when  they  proposed  them  in  the  form 
of  precept,  they  still  regarded  the  perfectly  virtuous   man  as  the 
creature  of  their  imagination  rather  than  a  model  for  imitation — a 
character  whom  it  was  a  mental  recreation  rather  than  a  duty  to 
contemplate ;  and  if  an  individual  here  or  there,  as  Scipio  or  Cato, 
attempted  to  conform  his  life  to  his  philosophical  conceptions  of  virtue, 
he  was  sure  to  be  ridiculed  for  singularity  and  affectation. 

Even  among  the  Athenians,  by  whom  philosophy  was,  in  many 
cases,  cultivated  to  the  exclusion  of  every  active  profession,  intellectual 
amusement,  not  the  discovery  of  truth,  was  the  principal  object  of 
their  discussions.  That  we  must  thus  account  for  the  ensnaring  ques- 
tions and  sophistical  reasonings  of  which  their  disputations  consisted, 
has  been  noticed  in  our  article  on  LOGIC  ;3  and  it  was  their  extension 
of  this  system  to  the  case  of  morals,  which  brought  upon  their  sophists 
the  irony  of  Socrates,  and  the  sterner  rebuke  of  Aristotle.  But  if  this 
took  place  in  a  state  of  society  in  which  the  love  of  speculation 
pervaded  all  ranks,  much  more  was  it  to  be  expected  among  the 

1  C.  39.  ["  Xor  do  I  regard  it  as  any  mark  of  inconsistency  to  regulate  my 
opinions  and  my  course,  like  a  vessel,  by  the  condition  of  the  political  weather. 
All  that  1  have  learned,  witnessed,  and  read — all  that  has  been  recorded  of  the 
wisest  and  most  illustrious  men,  both  in  our  state  and  in  other  political  commu- 
nities, has  taught  me  that  the  same  man  is  not  always  to  defend  the  same  opinions, 
but  rather  those  which  the  position  of  the  state,  the  bias  of  the  times,  and  the 
interests  of  peace  may  require." — Editor."] 

*  Ad  Fam.  vi.  6,  vii.  3.  'I5i«  ffwefiov\evev  6  Ki/cepw?/,  7ro/\.Aa  /it-j/  Kaura/?i 
ypatycav,  iro\\a  5'avrov  no/X7T7]'iou  Seoy.ez/os,  Trpauj/cuj/  eKarepov  xal  Trapajji.v8ovfj.eyos. 
— Plutarch,  in  Vita  Cic.  See  also  in  Vita  Pomp. 

3  In  the  Philosophical  division  of  the  Encyclopaedia  Metropolitan . 


216  EOMAN    PHILOSOPHY. 

Romans,  who,  busied  as  they  were  in  political  enterprises,  and  deficient 
in  philosophical  acuteness,  had  neither  time  nor  inclination  for  abstruse 
investigations ;  and  who  considered  philosophy  simply  as  one  of  the 
many  fashions  introduced  from  Greece,  "  a  sort  of  table  furniture,"  as 
Warburton  well  expresses  it,  a  mere  refinement  in  the  arts  of  social 
enjoyment.1  This  character  it  bore  both  among  friends  and  enemies. 
Hence  the  popularity  which  attended  the  three  Athenian  philosophers, 
who  had  come  to  Rome  on  an  embassy  from  their  native  city ;  and 
hence  the  inflexible  determination  with  which  Cato  procured  their 
dismissal,  through  fear,  as  Plutarch  tells  us,2  lest  their  arts  of  dispu- 
tation should  corrupt  the  Roman  youth.  And  when  at  length,  by  the 
authority  of  Scipio,8  the  literary  treasures  of  Sylla,  and  the  patronage 
of  Lucullus,  philosophical  studies  had  gradually  received  the  counte- 
nance of  the  higher  classes  of  their  countrymen,  we  still  find  them,  in 
consistency  with  the  principle  above  laid  down,  determined  in  the 
adoption  of  this  or  that  system,  not  so  much  by  the  harmony  of  its 
parts,  or  by  the  plausibility  of  its  reasonings,  as  by  its  suitableness  to 
the  profession  and  political  station  to  which  they  respectively  belonged, 
introduction  Thus  because  the  Stoics  were  more  minute  than  other  sects  in  incul- 
p1iiiSo(Pheyek  eating  the  moral  and  social  duties,  we  find  the  Jurisconsulti  professing 
to  Eome.  themselves  followers  of  Zeno  ;4  the  orators,  on  the  contrary,  adopted 
the  disputatious  system  of  the  later  Academics  ;5  while  Epicurus  was 
the  master  of  the  idle  and  the  wealthy.  Hence,  too,  they  confined 
the  profession  of  philosophical  science  to  Greek  teachers ;  considering 
them  the  sole  proprietors,  as  it  were,  of  a  foreign  and  expensive  luxury, 
which  the  vanquished  might  have  the  trouble  of  furnishing,  but  which 
the  conquerors  could  well  afford  to  purchase. 

First  appiica-  Before  the  works  of  Cicero,  no  attempts  worth  considering  had  been 
made  for  using  the  Latin  tongue  in  philosophical  subjects.  The 
natural  stubbornness  of  the  language  conspired  with  Roman  haughti- 
ness  to  prevent  this  application.6  The  Epicureans,  indeed,  had  made 
the  experiment,  but  their  writings  were  even  affectedly  harsh  and 
slovenly  ;7  and  we  find  Cicero  himself,  in  spite  of  his  inexhaustible  flow 
of  rich  and  expressive  diction,  making  continual  apologies  for  his 
learned  occupations,  and  extolling  philosophy  as  the  parent  of  every- 
ero  tmng  great>  virtuous,  and  amiable.8 

philosophical      Yet,  with  whatever  discouragement  his  design  was  attended,  he 
writings.        ultimately  triumphed  over  the  pride  of  an  unlettered  people,  and  the 

1  Lactantius,  Inst.  iii.  16. 

2  Plutarch,  in  Vita  Caton.     See  also  de  Invent,  i.  36. 

3  Paterculus,  i.  12,  &c.     Plutarch,  in  Vit£  Lucull.  et  Syll. 

4  G ravin.  Origin.  Juriscivil.  lib.  i.  c.  44. 

5  Quinct.  xii.  2.     Auct.  Dialog,  de  Orator.  31. 

6  De  Nat.  Deor.  i.  4;  de  Off.  i.  1  ;  de.fin.  Acad.  Qusest.,  &c. 

7  Tusc.  Qusest.  i.  3 ;  ii.  3 ;  Acad.  Quaast.  i.  2 ;  de  Nat.  Deor.  i.  21 ;  de  Fin. 
i.  3,  &c. ;  de  Clar.  Orat.  35. 

8  Lucullus,  2  ;  de  Fin.  i.  1—3  ;  Tusc.  Qusast.  ii.  1,  2 ;  iii.  2 ;  v.  2  ;  de  Legg. 
i.  22—24 ;  de  Off.  ii.  2  ;  de  Orat.  41,  &c. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  217 

difficulties  of  a  defective  language.  He  was  possessed  of  that  first 
requisite  for  eminence,  an  enthusiastic  attachment  to  the  studies  he  was 
recommending.  But  occupied  as  he  was  with  the  duties  of  a  states 
man,  mere  love  of  literature  would  have  availed  little,  if  separated 
from  the  energy  and  range  of  intellect  by  which  he  was  enabled  to 
pursue  a  variety  of  objects  at  once,  with  equally  persevering  and  inde- 
fatigable zeal.  "  He  suffered  no  part  of  his  leisure  to  be  idle,  or  the 
least  interval  of  it  to  be  lost ;  but  what  other  people  gave  to  the 
public  shows,  to  pleasures,  to  feasts,  nay,  even  to  sleep  and  the  ordinary 
refreshments  of  nature,  he  generally  gave  to  his  books,  and  the  en- 
largement of  his  knowledge.  On  days  of  business,  wThen  he  had  any- 
thing particular  to  compose,  he  had  no  other  time  for  meditating,  but 
•when  he  was  taking  a  few  turns  in  his  walks,  when  he  used  to  dictate 
his  thoughts  to  his  scribes  who  attended  him.  We  find  many  of  his 
letters  dated  before  daylight,  some  from  the  senate,  others  from  his 
meals,  and  the  crowd  of  his  morning  levee."1  Thus  he  found  time, 
without  apparent  inconvenience,  for  the  business  of  the  state,  for  the 
turmoil  of  the  courts,  and  for  philosophical  studies.  During  his  con- 
sulate he  delivered  twelve  orations  in  the  senate,  rostrum,  or  forum. 
His  treatises  '  de  Oratore '  and  '  de  Republic^,,'  the  most  finished  per- 
haps of  his  compositions,  were  written  at  a  time  when,  to  use  his  own 
words,  "  not  a  day  passed  without  his  taking  part  in  forensic  disputes."2 
And  in  the  last  year  of  his  life,  he  composed  at  least  eight  of  his  phi- 
losophical works,  besides  the  fourteen  orations  against  Antony,  which 
are  known  by  the  name  of  Philippics.  Being  thus  ardent  in  the  cause 
of  philosophy,  he  recommended  it  to  the  notice  of  his  countrymen,  not 
only  for  the  honour  which  its  introduction  would  reflect  upon  himself 
(which  itself  was  with  him  a  motive  of  no  inconsiderable  influence), 
but  also  with  the  fondness  of  one  who  esteemed  it  "  the  guide  of  life, 
the  parent  of  virtue,  the  guardian  in  difficulty,  and  the  tranquillizer  in 
misfortune."3  Nor  were  his  mental  endowments  less  adapted  to  the 
accomplishment  of  his  object,  than  the  spirit  with  which  he  engaged 
in  the  work.  Gifted  with  versatility  of  talent,  with  acuteness,  quick- 
ness of  perception,  skill  in  selection,  art  in  arrangement,  fertility  of 
illustration,  warmth  of  fancy,  and  extraordinary  taste,  he  at  once 
seizes  upon  the  most  effective  parts  of  his  subject,  places  them  in  the 
most  striking  point  of  view,  and  arrays  them  in  the  liveliest  and  most 
inviting  colours.  His  writings  have  the  singular  felicity  of  combining 
brilliancy  of  execution,  with  never-failing  good  sense.  It  must  be 
allowed,  that  he  is  deficient  in  depth ;  that  he  skims  over  rather  than 
dives  into  the  various  departments  of  literature ;  that  he  had  too  great 
command  of  the  plausible,  to  be  a  patient  investigator  or  a  sound 
reasoner.  Yet  if  he  has  less  originality  of  thought  than  others,  if  he 
does  not  grapple  with  his  subject,  if  he  is  unequal  to  a  regular  and 
lengthened  disquisition,  if  he  is  frequently  inconsistent  in  his  opinions, 

1  Middleton's  Life,  vol.  ii.  p.  254.  2  Ad  Quint,  fratr.  iii.  3. 

3  Tusc.  Quaest.  v.  2. 


218  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

we  must  remember  that  mere  soundness  of  thought,  without  talent  for 
display,  has  few  charms  for  those  who  have  not  yet  imbibed  a  taste 
even  for  the  outward  form  of  knowledge,1  that  system  nearly  precludes 
variety,  and  depth  almost  implies  obscurity.  It  was  this  very  absence 
of  scientific  exactness,  which  constituted  in  Roman  eyes  a  principal 
charm  of  Cicero's  compositions.2 

Nor  must  his  profession  as  a  pleader  be  forgotten  in  enumerating 
the  circumstances  which  concurred  to  give  his  writings  their  peculiar 
character.  For  however  his  design  of  interesting  his  countrymen  in 
Greek  literature,  however  too  his  particular  line  of  talent,  may  have 
led  him  to  explain  rather  than  to  invent ;  yet  he  expressly  informs  us 
it  was  principally  with  a  view  to  his  own  improvement  in  oratory  that 
he  devoted  himself  to  philosophical  studies.3  This  induced  him  to 
undertake  successively  the  cause  of  the  Stoic,  the  Epicurean,  or  the 
Platonist,  as  an  exercise  for  his  powers  of  argumentation ;  while  the 
wavering  and  unsettled  state  of  mind,  occasioned  by  such  habits  of 
disputation,  led  him  in  his  private  judgment  to  prefer  the  sceptical 
tenets  of  the  New  Academy. 

Here,  then,  before  examining  Cicero's  philosophical  writings,  an 
opportunity  is  presented  to  us  of  redeeming  the  pledge  we  gave  in  our 
memoir  of  PLATO,  by  considering  the  system  of  doctrine  which  the 
reformers  (as  they  thought  themselves)  of  the  Academic  school  intro- 
duced about  300  years  before  the  Christian  era. 

The  New  We  have  already  traced  the  history  of  the  OLD  ACADEMY,  and 

Academy,      spoken  of  the  innovations  on  the  system  of  Plato,  silently  introduced 

by  the  austere  Polemo.     When  Zeno,  however,  who  was  his  pupil, 

advocated  the  same  rigid  tenets  in  a  more  open  and  dogmatic  ibrm,4 

Arcesiias.       the  Academy  at  length  took  the  alarm,  and  reaction  ensued.     Arcesilas, 

who  had  succeeded  Polemo  and  Crates,  determined  on  reverting  to 

the  principles  of  the  elder  schools  ;5  but  mistaking  the  profession  of 

1  De  Off.  i.  5,  init. 

2  Johnson's  observations  on  Addison's  writings  may  be  well  applied  to  those  of 
Cicero,  who  would  have  been  eminently  successful  in  short  miscellaneous  essays, 
like  those  of  the  Spectators,  had  the  manners  of  the  age  allowed  it. 

3  Orat.  iii.  4;  Tusc.  Qusest.  ii.  3;  de  Off.  i.  1.  prcefat.     Paradox.  Quint,  de 
Instit.  xii.  2.     Lactantius,  Inst.  iii.  16. 

4  Acad.  Qusest.  i.  10,  &c.  ;  Lucullus,  5  ;  de  Legg.  i.  20  ;    iii.  3,  &c. 

5  Acad.  Qusest.  i.  4,  12,  13 ;  Lucullus,  5  and  23  ;   de  Nat.  Deor.  i.  5 ;  de  Fin. 
ii.  1;   de   Orat.  iii.  18;   Augustin.  contra  Acad.  ii.  6.     Sext.  Emp.  adv.  Mathem. 
lib.  vii-     'O  'Ap/ce(rtAaos  roffovrov  aWSei  TOV  KaivoTo^las  riva  86£av  aya-rrav  Kcxl 
viroTTOte'iffQai  T&V  TraAcucoj/,  &<TTG  tyKaXtiv  TOVS  r6rf.   ffo^iffras  on  irpo(TTpi^€rai 
ScoKparei  Kal  FlAa-rcci/i  Kal  Tlap/Aevifir)  Kal  'Hpa/cAe^Ta?  ra  -jrepl  TTJS  eirox^s  S6y- 
f.iara  Kal  TT)S  aKaraATjiJ/ias,  ouSej/  Seo/ieVois,  aAAa  olov  avaywyrjv  Kal  fiefialuffiv 
avT&v  els  avSpas  ev86£ovs  TTOIOV/J.€I/OS.     (Plutarch,  in  Colot.  26.)     ["  Arcesilas 
was  so  far  from  aiming  at  the  reputation  of  originality  while  availing  himself  of  the 
ancients,  that  the  sophists  of  that  time  accused  him  of  assenting  implicitly  to 
Socrates,  and  Plato,  and  Parmenides,  and  Heraclitus,  in  respect  of  his  opinions  on 
the  suspension  [of  assent]  and  the  incomprehensibility  [of  things],  as  to  perfect  autho- 
rities, and  referring  to  them  for  confirmation  as  to  persons  of  eminence." — Editor.'] 


MARCUS    TULLIUS   CICEEO.  219 

ignorance,  which  Socrates  had  used  against  the  sophists  on  physical 
questions,  for  an  actual  scepticism  on  points  connected  with  morals,  he 
fell  into  the  opposite  extreme,  and  declared,  first,  that  nothing  could 
be  known,  and  therefore,  secondly,  nothing  should  be  advanced.1 

Whatever  were  his  private  sentiments  (for  some  authors  affirm  his 
esoteric  doctrines  to  have  been  dogmatic2),  he  brought  forward  these 
sceptical  tenets  in  so  unguarded  a  form,  that  it  required  all  his  argu- 
mentative powers,  which  were  confessedly  great,  to  maintain  them 
against  the  obvious  objections  which  were  pressed  upon  him  from  all 
quarters.  On  his  death,  therefore,  as  might  have  been  anticipated, 
his  school  was  deserted  for  those  of  Zeno  and  Epicurus  ;  and  during 
the  lives  of  Lacydes,  Evander,  and  Hegesinus,  who  successively  filled 
the  Academic  chair,  being  no  longer  recommended  by  the  novelty  of 
its  doctrines,3  or  the  talents  of  its  masters,  it  became  of  little  consider- 
ation amid  the  wranglings  of  more  popular  philosophies.  Carneades,4  Carneades. 
therefore,  who  succeeded  Hegesinus,  found  it  necessary  to  use  more 
cautious  and  guarded  language;  and,  by  explaining  what  was  paradox- 
ical, by  reservations  and  exceptions,  in  short,  by  all  the  arts  which  an 
acute  and  active  genius  could  suggest,  he  contrived  to  establish  its 
authority  without  departing,  as  far  as  we  have  the  means  of  judging, 
from  the  principle  of  universal  scepticism  which  Arcesilas  had  so  perti- 
naciously advocated.5 

The  New  Academy,6  then,  taught  with  Plato,  that  all  things  in 
their  own  nature  were  fixed  and  determinate ;  but  that,  through  the 
constitution  of  the  human  rnind,  it  was  impossible  for  its  to  see  them 
in  their  simple  and  eternal  forms,  to  separate  appearance  from  reality, 
truth  from  falsehood.7  For  the  conception  we  form  of  any  object  is 
altogether  derived  from  and  depends  on  the  sensation,  the  impression, 
it  produces  on  our  own  minds  (jradog  gvepyemg,  fyavracria).  Reason 
does  but  deduce  from  premises  ultimately  supplied  by  sensation.  Our 
only  communication,  then,  with  actual  existences  being  through  the 
medium  of  our  own  impressions,  we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining  Modified 
the  correspondence  of  the  things  themselves  with  the  ideas  we  enter-  JhePNewm  °f 
tain  of  them  ;  and  therefore  can  in  no  case  be  certain  of  the  fidelity  Academy. 

1  "  Arcesilas  negabat  esse  quidquam,  quod  sciri  posset,  ne  illud  quidem  ipsum 
quod  Socrates  sibi  reliquisset.     Sic  omnia  latere  censebat  in  occulto,  neque  esse 
quicquam  quod  cerni,  quod  intelligi,  posset;  quibus  de  causis  nihil  oportere  neque 
profiteri  neque  affirmare  quenquam,   neque   assertione   approbare,   &c."      (Acad. 
Qurcst.  i.  12.)     ["  Arcesilas  affirmed  that  there  was  nothing  that  could  be  known, 
not  even  excepting  what  Socrates  had  reserved.     He  regarded  all  things  as  hid  in 
obscurity,  and  nothing  as  capable  of  being  perceived  or  understood ;    for  which 
reasons  he  denied  the  right  of  any  man  to  aver  or  affirm  anything,  or  to  confirm 
anything  by  assertion,  &c." — Editor.']     See  also  Lucullus,  9  and  18.     They  were 
countenanced  in  these  conclusions  by  Plato's  doctrine  of  ideas. — Lucullus,  4b. 

2  Sext.  Empir.  Pyrrh.  Hypot.  i.  33  ;  Diogenes  Laertius,  lib.  iv.  in  Arcesil. 

3  Lucullus,  6.  4  Augustin.  adv.  Acad.  iii.  17. 

5  Lucullus,  18,  24 ;  Augustin.  in  Acad.  iii.  39. 

6  See  Sext.  Empir.  adv.  Mathem.  lib.  vii. 

7  Acad.  Qua;st.  i.  13 ;  Lucullus,  23,  38;  de  Xat.  Deor.  i.  5;  Orat.  71. 


220  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

of  our  senses.  Of  their  fallibility,  however,  we  may  easily  assure 
ourselves  ;  for  in  cases  in  which  they  are  detected  contradicting  each 
other,  all  cannot  be  correct  reporters  of  the  object  with  which  they 
profess  to  acquaint  us.  Food,  which  is  the  same  as  far  as  sight  and 
touch  are  concerned,  tastes  differently  to  different  individuals;  fire, 
which  is  the  same  to  the  eye,  communicates  a  sensation  of  pain  at  one 
time,  of  pleasure  at  another ;  the  oar  appears  crooked  in  the  water, 
while  the  touch  assures  us  it  is  as  straight  as  before  it  was  immersed.1 
Again,  in  dreams,  in  intoxication,  in  madness,  impressions  are  made 
upon  the  mind,  vivid  enough  to  incite  to  reflection  and  action,  yet 
utterly  at  variance  with  those  produced  by  the  same  objects  when  we 
are  awake,  or  sober,  or  in  possession  of  our  reason.2 

It  appears  then  that  we  cannot  prove  that  our  senses  are  ever 
faithful ;  but  we  do  know  they  often  produce  erroneous  impressions. 
Here  then  is  room  for  endless  doubt ;  for  why  may  they  not  deceive 
us  in  cases  in  which  we  cannot  detect  the  deception  ?  It  is  certain 
they  often  act  irregularly ;  is  there  any  consistency  at  all  in  their 
operations,  any  law  to  which  these  varieties  may  be  referred  ? 

It  is  undeniable  that  an  object  often  varies  in  the  impression  which 
it  makes  upon  the  mind,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  same  impression 
may  arise  from  different  objects.  What  limit  is  to  be  assigned  to 
this  disorder  ?  is  there  any  sensation  strong  enough  to  assure  us  of 
the  presence  of  the  object  which  it  seems  to  intimate,  any  such  as  to 
preclude  the  possibility  of  deception  ?  If,  when  we  look  into  a 
mirror,  our  minds  are  impressed  with  the  appearance  of  unreal  trees, 
fields,  and  houses,  how  can  we  ascertain  whether  the  scene  we  directly 
look  upon  has  any  more  substantial  existence  than  the  former?3 

From  these  reasonings  the  Academics  taught  that  nothing  was  certain, 

1  "  Tu  autem  te  negas  infracto  remo  neque  columbse  collo  commoveri.     Primum 
cur  ?  nam  et  in  remo  sentio  non  esse  id  quod  videatur,  et  in  columba1  plures  videri 
colores,  nee  esse  plus  uno,  &c."     (Lucullus,  25.)     ["  You  say  that  you  are  unin- 
fluenced by  the  instances  of  the  broken  oar  and  the  pigeon's  neck.    First,  let  me  ask 
you  why  ?  for,  in  the  case  of  the  oar,  I  perceive  that  what  appears  is  not ;  and,  in 
the  pigeon,  that  many  colours  are  apparent,  when  there  is  but  one,  &c." — Editor.^ 

2  Lucullus,  16—18,  26—28. 

3  "  Scriptum  est :  ita  Academicis  placere,  esse  rerum  ejusmodi  dissimilitudines  ut 
alise  probabiles  videantur,  aline  contra  ;  id  autem  non  esse  satis  cur  alia  percipi  posse 
dicas,  alia  non  posse  ;  propterea  qu6d  multa  falsa  probabilia  sint,  nihil  autem  falsi 
perceptum  et  cognitum  possit  esse.     Itaque  ait  vehementer  errare  eos  qui  dicant  ab 
Academic  sensus  eripi,  a  quibus  nunquam  dictum  sit  aut  colorem  aut  saporem  aut 
sonum  nullum  esse  ;  illud  sit  disputatum,  non  inesse  in  his  propriam,  qua?  nusquam 
alibi  esset,  veri  et  certi  notam.     (Lucullus,  32.)     ["  It  has  been  written  thus  : — 
The  Academics  hold  that  there  is  in  things  that  dissimilarity,  that  some  appear  pro- 
bable, others  the  contrary;  but  that  this  is  no  sufficient  reason  for  saying  that  some 
may  be  comprehended,  others  not ;  because  many  false  impressions  are  probable,  but 
no  false  impression  can  be  the  object  of  comprehension  and  knowledge.     He  affirms, 
therefore,  that  those  are  greatly  mistaken  who  say  that  the  Academics  take  away  the 
existence  of  the  senses ;   inasmuch  as  they  have  never  denied  that  there  are  such 
things  as  colour,  taste,  and  sound ;  but  they  contend  that  there  is  not  in  these  things 
a  peculiar  mark  of  reality  and  certainty,  not  existing  elsewhere." — Editor."]     See 
also  13,  24,  31 ;  de  Nat.  Deor.  i.  5. 


MARCUS  TULLIUS   CICERO.  221 

nothing  was  to  be  known  (fcaraXijTrroV)-  For  the  Stoics  themselves, 
their  most  determined  opponents,  defined  the  k-aTaXrjTrriKri  fyavraaia 
(or  impression  which  involved  knowledge1),  to  be  one  that  was 
capable  of  being  produced  by  no  object  except  that  to  which  it  really 
belonged.2 

Since  then  we  cannot  arrive  at  knowledge,  we  must  suspend  our 
decision,  pronounce  absolutely  on  nothing,  nay,  according  to  Arcesilas, 
never  even  form  an  opinion.3  In  the  conduct  of  life,  however,  pro- 
bability"4 must  determine  our  choice  of  action ;  and  this  admits  of 
different  degrees.  The  lowest  kind  is  that  which  suggests  itself  on 
the  first  view  of  the  case  (fyavTaaia  irtdavri)  ;  but  in  all  important 
matters  we  must  correct  the  evidence  of  our  senses  by  considerations 
derived  from  the  nature  of  the  medium,  the  distance  of  the  object,  the 
disposition  of  the  organ,  the  time,  the  manner,  and  other  attendant 
circumstances.  When  the  impression  has  been  thus  minutely  con- 
sidered, the  (fxu'TUffia  becomes  Treptw^i/^tVr?,  or  approved  on  circum- 
spection ;  and  if  during  this  examination  no  objection  has  arisen  to 
weaken  our  belief,  the  highest  degree  of  probability  is  attained,  and 
the  impression  is  pronounced  complete  (uTrepto-Traoroe.)5 

Sextus  Empiricus  illustrates  this  as  follows  :6 — If  on  entering  a  dark 
room  we  discern  a  coiled  rope,  our  first  impression  may  be  that  it  is 
a  serpent, — this  is  the  (pavraaia  TviOavrj.  On  a  closer  inspection, 
however,  after  walking  round  it  (Trtpiocteuo-avrfc)  we  observe  it  does 
not  move,  nor  has  it  the  proper  colour,  shape,  or  proportions ;  and 
now  we  conclude  it  is  not  a  serpent ;  here  we  are  determined  in  our 
belief  by  the  Trtpiw^ti^utVr/  fyai'-affia.  For  an  instance  of  the  third 
and  most  accurate  kind,  viz.,  that  with  which  no  contrary  impression 
interferes,  we  may  refer  to  the  conduct  of  Admetus  on  the  return  of 
Alcestis  from  the  infernal  regions.  He  believes  he  sees  his  wife ; 
everything  confirms  it ;  but  he  cannot  acquiesce  in  that  opinion ;  his 

1  Oi  yovv  STOU/CO!  Ka.Ta.\r$iv  eTi/cu  (paffi  /caToA.7?7TT£«:p  (pavrao-iq.  ffvyKarddeffiv. 
— Sext.  Empir.  Pyrrh.  Hypot.  iii.  25. 

2  "  Verum  non  posse  comprehend!  ex  ilia  Stoici  Zenonis  definitione  arripuisse 
videbantur,  qui  ait  id  verum  percipi  posse,  quod  ita  esset  animo  impressum  ex  eo 
unde  esset,  ut  esse  non  posset  ex  eo  unde  non  esset.     Quod  brevius  planiusque  sic 
dicitur,  his  signis  verum  posse  comprehendi,   quae  signa  non  potest  habere  quod 
falsum  est."    (Augustin,  contra  Acad.  2,  5.)    ["  They  seemed  to  hare  caught  their 
doctrine  of  the  incomprehensibility  of  truth  from  that  definition  of  the  Stoic  Zeno, 
who  says  that  that  may  be  perceived  to  be  true  which  has  been  so  impressed  on  the 
mind  by  the  cause  of  its  existence,  as  it  could  not  have  been  by  what  was  not  the 
cause  of  its  existence,  which  is  thus  more  briefly  and  simply  expressed :  that  truth 
may  be  comprehended  by  those  marks  which  falsehood  cannot  possess." — Editor.'] 
See  also  Sext.  Empir.  adv.  Math.  lib.  vii.  irepl  /nerajSoA-^s,  and  of  Lucullus,  6  with 
13.  »  Lucullus,  13,  21,  40. 

4  ToTs  <$>aivojJi.f:<pQis   ovv  Trpocre^oires   Kara.  r}]v  ^ICDTIK^JV  r^p-^ffiv  afio^da'Tcas 
/Jto-j/zev,  eirzl  p.i]  Svfd/j.eda  avevepyrjroi  iravra.irc.a'iv  elz/at. — Sext.  Empir.  Pyrrh. 
Hypot.  1,  11. 

5  Cicero  terms  these  three  impressions,  "  visio  probabilis ;  quse  ex  circumspectione 
aliqud  et  accurate  considerations  fiat;  qua}  non  impediatur." — Lucullus,  11. 

6  Pyrrh.  Hypot.  i.  33. 


222  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

mind  is  divided  (-irepiffTrdrai)  from  the  impression  he  has  of  her  death ; 
he  asks  aXX'  i]v  tdairTov  ttcropw  £ajuapr'  tpr]v  ;  ('  Ale.'  1148.)  Her- 
cules resolves  his  difficulty,  and  his  (fravraaia  becomes  aTrep/o-Traoroc. 
The  suspension  then  of  assent  (iiroyri)  which  the  Academics  enjoined, 
was,  at  least  from  the  times  of  Carneades,1  nearly  a  speculative  doc- 
trine ;2  and  herein  lay  the  chief  difference  between  them  and  the 
Pyrrhonists;  that  the  latter  altogether  denied  the  existence  of  the 
probable,  while  the  former  admitted  there  was  sufficient  to  allow  of 
action,  provided  we  pronounced  absolutely  on  nothing. 

Causes  which      Little  more  can  be  said  concerning  the  opinions  of  a  sect  whose 

New6  the       fundamental  maxim  was  that  nothing  could  be  known,  and  nothing 

Academy  a     should  be  taught.     It  lay  midway  between  the  other  philosophies ; 

Rhetoric       an(^  ^n  ^e  altercations  of  the  various  schools  it  was  at  once  attacked 

by  all,3  yet  appealed  to  by  each  of  the  contending  parties,  if  notto 

countenance  its  own  sentiments,  at  least  to  condemn  those  advocated 

by  its  opponents,4  and  thus  to  perform  the  office  of  an  umpire.5    From 

this  necessity  then  of  being  prepared  on  all  sides  for  attack,6  it  became 

as  much  a  school  of  rhetoric  as  of  philosophy,7  and  was  celebrated 

among  the  ancients  for  the  eloquence  of  its  masters.8     Hence  also  its 

reputation  was  continually  vaiying :  for,  requiring  the  aid  of  great 

abilities  to  maintain  its  exalted  and  arduous  post,  it  alternately  rose 

and  fell  in  estimation,  according  to  the  talents  of  the  individual  who 

happened  to   fill   the   chair.9      And  hence   the  frequent   alterations 

which  took  place  in  its  philosophical  tenets ;  which,  depending  rather 

1  Numen.  apud  Euseb.  Prsep.  Evang.  xiv.  7. 

2  Lucullus,  31,  34  ;  de  Off.  ii.  2 ;  de  Fin.  v.  26  ;  Quint,  xii.  1. 

3  Lucullus,  22,  et  alibi ;  Tusc.  Qusest.  ii.  2. 

4  See  a  striking  passage  from  Cicero's  Academics,  preserved  by  Augustin,  contra 
Acad.  iii.  7,  and  Lucullus,  18. 

5  De  Nat.  Deor.  passim;  de  Div.  ii.  72.     "Quorum  controversiam  solebat  tan- 
quam  honorarius  arbiter  judicare  Carneades." — Tusc.  Qusest.  v.  41. 

6  De  Fin.  ii.  1 ;  de  Orat.  i.  18  ;  Lucullus,  3  ;  Tusc.  Qusest.  v.  11 ;  Numen.  apud 
Euseb.  Prsep.  Evang.  xiv.  6,  &c.  ;  Lactantius,  Inst.  iii.  4. 

1  De  Nat.  Deor.  i.  67;  de  Fat.  2  ;  Dialog,  de  Orat.  31,  32. 

8  Lucullus  vi.  18  ;  de  Orat.  ii.  38,  iii.  18 ;  Quint.  Inst.  xii.  2 ;   Plutarch,  in  vit3 
Caton.  et  Cic. ;  Lactantius,  Inst. ;  Numen.  apud  Euseb. 

9  "  Hsec  in  philosophic  ratio  contra   omnia   disserendi  nullamque  rem  aperte 
judicandi,  profecta  a  Socrate,  repetita  ab  Arcesila,  confirmata  a  Carneade,  usque  ad 
nostram  viguit  aetatem  ;  quam  nunc  propemodum  orbam  esse  in  ipsa  GrseciEi  intel- 
ligo.     Quod  non  Academic  vitio,  sed  tarditate  hominum  arbitror  contigisse.     Nam 
si  singulas  disciplinas  percipere  magnum  est,  quanto  majus  omnes  ?  quod  facere  iis 
necesse  est,  quibus  propositum  est,  veri  reperiendi  causi,  et  contra  omnes  philosophos 
et  pro  omnibus  dicere." — De  Nat.  Deor.  i.  5.     ["  This  principle  in  philosophy,  of 
arguing  against  all  propositions,   and  openly  determining  nothing,  originated  by 
Socrates,  renewed  by  Arcesilas,  and  confirmed  by  Carneades,  has  been  in  force  up  to 
our  own  day,  but  is  now,  I  understand,  even  in  Greece,  almost  destitute  of  an 
advocate.     This,  I  apprehend,  is  not  ascribable  to  any  fault  of  the  Academy,  but  to 
the  dullness  of  individuals.     For,  if  it  is  a  great  task  to  acquire  the  philosophy  of 
any  one  school,  how  much  greater  to  attain  those  of  all  ?  which,  nevertheless,  is 
necessary  for  those  who,  for  the  investigation  of  truth,  would  be  prepared  to  dispute 
for  and  against  all  the  philosophical  sects." — Editor.'} 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  223 

on  the  arbitrary  determinations  of  its  present  head,  than  on  the  tra- 
dition of  settled  maxims,  were  accommodated  to  the  views  of  each 
successive  master,  according  as  he  hoped  by  sophistry  or  concession  to 
overcome  the  repugnance  which  the  mind  ever  will  feel  to  the  doc- 
trines of  universal  scepticism. 

And  in  these  continual  changes  it  is  pleasing  to  observe,  that  the 
interests  of  virtue  and  good  order  were  uniformly  promoted ;  interests 
to  which  the  Academic  doctrines  were  certainly  hostile,  if  not  neces- 
sarily fatal.  Thus,  although  we  find  Carneades,  in  conformity  to  the 
plan  adopted  by  Arcesilas,1  opposing  the  dogmatic  principles  of  the 
Stoics  concerning  moral  duty,2  and  studiously  concealing  his  private 
views  even  from  his  friends;3  yet,  by  allowing  that  the  suspense  of 
judgment  was  not  always  a  duty,  that  the  wise  man  might  sometimes 
believe  though  he  could  not  know  ;4  he,  in  some  measure,  restored  the 
authority  of  those  great  instincts  of  our  nature  which  his  predecessor 
appears  to  have  discarded.  Clitomachus  pursued  his  steps  by  inno- 
vations in  the  same  direction  ;5  Philo,  who  followed  next,  attempting  piuio  and 
to  reconcile  his  tenets  with  those  of  the  Platonic  school,6  has  been  ac-  Antiochus- 
countecl  the  founder  of  a  fourth  Academy — while,  to  his  successor 
Antiochus,  who  embraced  the  doctrines  of  the  Porch,7  and  maintained 
the  fidelity  of  the  senses,  it  has  been  usual  to  assign  the  establishment 
of  a  fifth. 

We  have  already  observed,  that  Cicero  in  early  life  inclined  to  the 
systems  of  Plato  and  Antiochus,  which,  at  the  time  he  composed  the 
bulk  of  his  writings,  he  had  abandoned  for  that  of  Carneades  and 
Philo.8  Yet  he  was  never  so  entirely  a  disciple  of  the  New  Academy, 
as  to  neglect  the  claims  of  morality  and  the  laws.  He  is  loud  in  his 
protestations,  that  truth  is  the  great  object  of  his  search : — "  Ego  enim,"  Mixed 
he  says,  "  si  aut  ostentatione  aliqua  adductus,  aut  studio  certandi,  ad  Philosophy 

i  \-     •      *  1-11-  i-         •  T  I.-.'          ofCicero. 

hanc  potissimum  philosophiam  me  apphcavi;  non  modo  stultitiam 
meam,  sed  etiam  mores  et  naturam  condemnandam  puto  ....  Itaque, 
nisi  ineptum  putarem  in  tali  disputatione  id  facere  quod,  quum  de 
republica  disceptatur,  fieri  interdum  solet,  jurarem  per  Jovem  deos- 
que  Penates,  me  et  ardere  studio  veri  reperiendi,  et  ea  sentire  quas 
dicerem."9  And,  however  inappropriate  this  boast  may  appear,  he  at 

1  De  Nat.  Deor.  i.   25 ;   Austin,  contra  Acad.  iii.  17  ;   Xumen.  apud  Euseb. 
Prsep.  Evang.  xiv.  6. 

2  De  Fin.  ii.  13,  v.  7  ;  Lucullus,  42;   Tusc.  Quaest.  v.  29. 

3  Lucullus,  45. 

4  Lucullus,  xxi.  24.     For  an  elevated  moral  precept  of  his,  see  de  Fin.  ii.  18. 

5  JAi/?7p  €V  TOIS  rpifflv  cupeVeo't  Siarptyas,  ei/  re  TT?  'A/caSTj^cuKf?  ical  TlepnraTT]- 
TiK?7  /ecu  ~2,TCtiiKrj. — Diogenes  Laertius,  lib.  iv.  sub.  fin.     ["  A  man  versed  in  the 
three  schools — the  Academic,  the  Peripatetic,  and  the  Stoic." — Editor.'] 

6  "  Philo,  magnus  vir,  negat  in  libris  duas  Academias  esse ;    erroremque  eorum 
qui  ita  putdrunt  coarguit." — Acad.  Quaest.  i.  4.     ["  Philo,  a  great  man,  denies  in 
his  writings  that  there  are  two  Academies ;  and  refutes  the  error  of  those  who  have 
entertained  that  opinion." — Editor^] 

7  De  Fin.  v.  5 ;  Lucullus,  xxii.  43.  8  Acad.  Quaest.  i.  4  ;  de  Nat.  Deor.  i.  7. 
9  Lucullus,  20  ;  see  also  de  Nat.  Deor.  i.  7  ;  de  Fin.  i.  5.    ["  For  my  own  part, 


224  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

least  pursues  the  useful  and  the  magnificent  in  philosophy  ;  and  uses 
his  academic  character  as  a  pretext  rather  fora  judicious  selection  from 
each  system,  than  for  an  indiscriminate  rejection  of  all.1  Thus,  in  the 
capacity  of  a  statesman,  he  calls  in  the  assistance  of  doctrines,  which, 
as  an  orator,  he  does  not  scruple  to  deride  ;  those  of  Zeno  in  particular, 
who  maintained  the  truth  of  the  popular  theology,  and  the  divine  origin 
of  augury,  and  (as  we  noticed  above)  was  more  explicit  than  the  other 
masters  in  his  view  s  of  social  duty.  This  difference  of  sentiment  between 
the  magistrate  and  the  pleader  is  strikingly  illustrated  in  the  opening 
of  his  treatise  '  de  Legibus ;'  where,  after  deriving  the  principles  of 
law  from  the  nature  of  things,  he  is  obliged  to  beg  quarter  of  the 
Academics,  whose  reasonings  he  feels  could  at  once  destroy  the  founda- 
tion on  which  his  argument  rested.  "  Ad  respublicas  firmandas,  et 
ad  stabiliendas  vires,  sanandos  populos,  omnis  nostra  pergit  oratio. 
Quocirca  vereor  cornmittere,  ut  non  bene  pro  visa  et  diligenter  explo- 
rata  principia  ponantur :  nee  tamen  ut  omnibus  probentur  (nam  id 
fieri  non  potest),  sed  ut  iis,  qui  omnia  recta  atque  honesta  per  se  ex- 
petenda  duxerunt,  et  aut  nihil  omnino  in  bonis  numerandum  nisi  quod 
per  se  ipsum  laudabile  esset,  aut  certe  nullum  habendum  magnum 
bonum,  nisi  quod  vere  laudari  sua  sponte  posset."2  And  then  ap- 
parently alluding  to  the  arguments  of  Carneades  against  justice,  which 
he  had  put  into  the  mouth  of  Philus  in  the  third  book  of  his  '  de 
Republics,'  he  proceeds :  "  Perturbatricem  autem  harum  omnium  rerum 
Academiam,  hancab  Arcesil&  et  Carneade  recentem,  exoremus,  ut  sileat. 
Nam,  si  invaserit  in  hasc,  quae  satis  scite  nobis  instructa  et  composita 
videntur,  nimias  edet  ruinas.  Quam  quidem  ego  placare  cupio,  sub- 
movere  non  audeo."3 

if  I  have  applied  myself  especially  to  this  philosophy,  through  any  love  of  display 
or  ambition  of  excelling,  I  not  only  hold  my  folly  amenable  to  condemnation,  but 
my  very  character  and  nature ;  and,  therefore,  if  I  did  not  consider  it  absurd,  in 
an  argument  like  this,  to  do  what  is  sometimes  done  in  political  discussions,  I  would 
swear  by  Jupiter  and  the  gods  Penates  that  I  burn  with  an  earnest  desire  of  dis- 
covering the  truth,  and  believe  all  that  I  say." — Editor.'] 

1  "  Nobis  autem  nostra  Academia  magnam  licentiam  dat,  ut,  quodcunque  maxime 
probabile  occurrat,  id  nostra  jure  liceat  defendere." — De  Off.  iii.  4.  ["  Our  Academy, 
however,  grants  us  considerable  licence,  so  that  we  may  defend,  by  our  own  right, 
whatever  occurs  to  us  as  most  probable." — Editor. ~\     See  also  Tusc.  Qusest.  iv.  4, 
v.  29  ;  de  Invent,  ii.  3. 

2  ["  All  our  argument  is  directed  to  the  consolidation  of  states,  the  stability  of 
their  power,  the  sound  condition  of  their  population.     Accordingly,  I  dread  any 
failure  in  laying  down  well-considered  and  carefully-examined  principles  :  not  such,, 
indeed,  as  shall  meet  universal  approval  (for  that  is  impossible),  but  such  as  shall 
commend  themselves  to  those  who  hold  all  upright  and  honourable  objects  to  be  in 
themselves  deserving  pursuit,  and  regard  nothing  as  good  which  is  not  of  itself 
praiseworthy ;  or,  at  least,  nothing  as  eminently  good  which  is  not  intrinsically  an 
object  of  just  commendation." — Editor."] 

8  De  Legg.  i.  13.  ["  But  let  us  entreat  the  Academy — this  new  Academy  I  mean, 
the  school  of  Arcesilas  and  Carneades — the  disturber  of  all  these  things — to  be 
silent.  For  should  that  school  attack  our  arguments,  skilfully  as  they  seem  to  us  to 
be  framed  and  arranged,  too  much  havoc  would  ensue.  I  would  wish,  then,  to 
conciliate  the  Academy  ;  remove  it  I  dare  not." — Editor."] 


MAKCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  225 

And  as,  in  questions  connected  with  the  interests  of  society,  he  thus 
uniformly  advocates  the  tenets  of  the  Porch,  so  in  discussions  of  a 
physical  character,  we  find  him  adopting  the  sublime  and  kindling 
sentiments  of  Pythagoras  and  Plato.  Here,  however,  having  no  object 
of  expediency  in  view  to  keep  him  within  the  bounds  of  consistency, 
he  scruples  not  to  introduce  whatever  is  most  beautiful  in  itself,  or 
most  adapted  to  his  present  purpose.  At  one  time  he  describes  the 
Deity  as  the  all-pervading  soul  of  the  world,  the  cause  of  life  and 
motion.1  At  another  He  is  the  intelligent  preserver  and  governor  of 
every  separate  part.2  At  one  time  the  soul  of  man  is  in  its  own 
nature  necessarily  eternal,  without  beginning  or  end  of  existence  ;3 — at 
another  it  is  represented  as  reunited  on  death  to  the  one  infinite 
Spirit ; 4 — at  another  it  is  to  enter  the  assembly  of  the  gods,  or  to  be 
driven  into  darkness,  according  to  its  moral  conduct  in  this  life  ; 5 — at 
another  the  best  and  greatest  of  mankind  are  alone  destined  for  im- 
mortality6— which  is  sometimes  described  as  attended  with  conscious- 
ness and  the  continuance  of  earthly  friendships ; 7  sometimes,  as  but  an 
immortality  of  name  and  glory ; 8  more  frequently,  however,  these 
separate  notions  are  confused  together  in  the  same  passage.9 

Though  the  works  of  Aristotle  were  not  given  to  the  world  till  His  acquaint- 
Sylla's  return  from  Greece,  Cicero  appears  to  have  been  a  considerable  Aristotle! 
proficient  in  his  philosophy,10  and  he  has  not  overlooked  the  important 
aid  it  affords  in  those  departments  of  science  which  are  alike  removed 
from  abstract  reasoning  and  fanciful  theorising.     To  Aristotle  he  is 
indebted  for  most  of  the  principles  laid  down  in  his  rhetorical  discus- 
sions,11 while  in  his  treatises  on  morals  not  a  few  of  his  remarks  may 
be  traced  to  the  same  acute  philosopher.12 

The  doctrines  of  the  Garden  alone,  though  some  of  his  most  intimate  His  abhor- 
friends  were  of  the  Epicurean  school,  he  regarded  with  aversion  and  Sums 
contempt;  feeling  no  sort  of  interest  in  a  system  which  cut  at  the 
very  root  of  that  activity  of  mind,  industry,  and  patriotism  for  \vhich 
he  himself  both  in  public  and  private  was  so    honourably  distin- 
guished.13 

Such,  then,  was  the  New  Academy,  and  such  the  variation  of  opinion, 

.  *  Tusc.  Quaest.  i.  27  ;  de  Div.  ii.  72 ;  pro  Milon.  31 ;  de  Legg.  ii.  7. 

2  Fragm.  de  Rep.  3 ;   Tusc.  Quaest.  i.  29 ;   de  Univ. 

3  Tusc.  Quaast.  i.  passim  ;  de  Senect.  21,  22;   Somn.  Scip.  8. 

4  De  Div.  i.  32,  49  ;   Fragm.  de  Consolat. 

5  Tusc.  Quaest.  i.  30 ;  Somn.  Scip.  9;   de  Legg.  ii.  11. 

6  De  Amic.  4  ;  de  Off.  iii.  28  ;   pro  Cluent.  61;  de  Legg.  ii.  17  ;  Tusc.  Quaest.  i. 
11;  pro  Sext.  21;  de  Nat.  Deor.  i.  17. 

7  Cat.  23.  8  Pro  Arch.  11,  12;  ad  Fam.  v.  21,  vi.  21. 
9  Ibid.  11,  12  ;  ad  Fam.  v.  21,  vi.  21. 

10  He  seems  to  have  fallen  into  some  misconceptions  of  Aristotle's  meaning.     De 
Invent,  i.  35,  36,  ii.  14.     See  Quint.  Inst.  v.  14. 

11  De  Invent,  i.  7,  ii.  51,  et  passim ;  ad  Fam.  i.  9 ;  de  Orat.  ii.  36. 

12  De  Off.  i.  1 ;  de  Fin.  iv.  5  ;  ad  Atticum. 

13  De  Fin.  ii.  21,  iii.  1 ;   de  Legg.  i.  13;   de  Orat.  iii.  17 ;    ad  Fam.  xiii.  1 ;   pro 
Sext.  10. 

[G.  E.  P.]  Q 


226 


ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 


His  form  of 
dialogue. 


Advantages 
of  it. 


which,  in  Cicero's  judgment,  was  not  inconsistent  with  the  profession 
of  an  Academic.  And  however  his  adoption  of  that  philosophy  may 
be  in  part  referred  to  his  oratorical  habits,  or  the  natural  cast  of  mind, 
yet,  considering  the  ambition  which  he  felt  to  inspire  his  countrymen 
with  a  taste  for  literature  and  science,1  we  must  conclude  with  War- 
burton,2  that,  in  acceding  to  the  system  of  Philo,  he  was  strongly 
influenced  by  the  freedom  of  thought  and  reasoning  which  it  allowed 
to  his  compositions ;  the  liberty  of  developing  the  principles  and 
doctrines,  the  strong  and  weak  parts  of  every  Grecian  school.  Bearing 
then  in  mind  his  design  of  recommending  the  study  of  philosophy,  it 
is  interesting  to  observe  the  artifices  of  style  and  manner  which,  with 
this  end,  he  adopted  in  his  treatises ;  and  though  to  enter  minutely 
into  this  subject  would  be  foreign  to  our  present  purpose,  it  may  be 
allowed  us  to  make  some  general  remarks  on  the  character  of  works 
so  eminently  successful  in  accomplishing  the  object  for  which  they  were 
undertaken. 

The  most  obvious  peculiarity  of  Cicero's  philosophical  discussions  is 
the  form  of  dialogue  in  which  most  of  them  are  conveyed.  Plato, 
indeed,  and  Xenophon  had,  before  his  time,  been  even  more  strictly 
dramatic  in  their  compositions ;  but  they  professed  to  be  recording 
the  sentiments  of  an  individual,  and  the  Socratic  mode  of  argument 
could  hardly  be  displayed  in  any  other  shape.  Of  that  interrogative 
and  inductive  conversation,  however,  Cicero  affords  but  few  specimens  ;3 
the  nature  of  his  dialogue  being  as  different  from  that  of  the  two 
Athenians,  as  was  his  object  in  writing.  His  aim  was  to  excite 
interest ;  and  he  availed  himself  of  this  mode  of  composition  for  the 
life  and  variety,  the  ease,  perspicuity,  and  vigour  which  it  gave  to  his 
discussions.  His  dialogue  is  of  two  kinds  :  according  as  his  subject 
is,  or  is  not,  a  controverted  point,  it  assumes  the  shape  of  a  continued 
treatise,  or  a  free  disputation ;  in  the  latter  case  imparting  clearness  to 
what  is  obscure,  in  the  former  relief  to  what  is  clear.  Thus  his 
practical  and  systematic  treatises  on  rhetoric  and  moral  duty  are  either 
written  in  his  own  person,  or  merely  divided  between  several  speakers 
who  are  the  organs  of  his  own  sentiments ;  while  in  questions  of  a 
more  speculative  cast,  on  the  nature  of  the  gods,  on  the  human  soul, 
on  the  greatest  good,  he  uses  his  academic  liberty,  and  brings  forward 
the  theories  of  contending  schools  under  the  character  of  their  respective 
advocates.  The  advantages  gained  in  both  cases  are  evident.  In 
controverted  subjects  he  is  not  obliged  to  discover  his  own  views,  he 
can  detail  opposite  arguments  forcibly  and  luminously,  and  he  is 
allowed  the  use  of  those  oratorical  powers  in  which,  after  all,  his  great 
strength  lay.  In  those  subjects,  on  the  other  hand,  which  are  un- 
interesting because  they  are  familiar,  he  may  pause  or  digress  before 
the  mind  is  weary  and  the  attention  begins  to  flag ;  the  reader  is 

1  De  Nat.  Deor.  i.  4 ;  Tusc.  Quaest.  i.  1,  v.  29  ;  de  Fin.  i.  3,  4 ;  de  Off.  i.  1 ;  de 
Div.  ii.  1,  2. 

2  Div.  Legg.  lib.  iii.  sec.  9.  3  See  Tusc.  Qusest.  and  de  Republ. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  227 

carried  on  by  easy  journeys  and  short  stages,  and  novelty  in  the  speaker 
supplies  the  want  of  novelty  in  the  matter. 

Nor  does  Cicero  discover  less  skill  in  the  execution  of  these  dialogues,  Beauty  of 
than  address  in  their  design.  It  were  idle  to  enlarge  upon  the  beauty,  execution- 
richness,  and  taste  of  compositions  which  have  been  the  admiration  of 
every  age  and  country.  In  the  dignity  of  his  speakers,  their  high  tone 
of  mutual  courtesy,  the  harmony  of  his  groups,  and  the  delicate  relief 
of  his  contrasts,  he  is  inimitable.  The  majesty  and  splendour  of  his 
introductions,  which  generally  address  themselves  to  the  passions  or 
the  imagination,  the  eloquence  with  which  both  sides  of  a  question 
are  successively  displayed,  the  clearness  and  terseness  of  his  statements 
on  abstract  points,  the  grace  of  his  illustrations,  his  exquisite  allusions 
to  the  scene  or  time  of  the  supposed  conversation,  his  digressions  in 
praise  of  philosophy  or  great  men,  his  quotations  from  Grecian  and 
Roman  poetry ;  lastly,  the  melody  and  fulness  of  his  style,  unite  to 
throw  a  charm  round  his  writings  peculiar  to  themselves.  To  the 
Roman  reader  they  especially  recommended  themselves  by  their  con- 
tinual and  most  artful  references  to  the  heroes  of  the  old  republic,  who 
now  appeared  but  exemplars,  and  (as  it  were)  patrons  of  that  eternal 
philosophy,  which  he  had  before,  perhaps,  considered  as  the  short-lived 
reveries  of  ingenious,  but  inactive  men.  Nor  is  there  any  confusion, 
harshness,  or  appearance  of  effort  in  the  introduction  of  the  various 
beauties  we  have  been  enumerating,  which  are  blended  together  with 
so  much  skill  and  propriety,  that  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  point  out 
the  particular  causes  of  the  delight  left  upon  the  mind. 

In  proceeding  to  enumerate  Cicero's  philosophical  writings,1  it  may 
be  necessary  to  premise  that  our  intention  is  rather  to  sketch  out 
the  plan  on  which  they  are  conducted  than  to  explain  the  doctrines 
which  they  recommend ;  for  an  account  of  which  the  reader  is 
referred  to  our  articles  on  the  schools  by  which  they  were  respectively 
entertained.2 

The  series  of  his  rhetorical  works  has  been  preserved  nearly  com-  Rhetorical 
plete,  and  consists  of  the  'De  Inventione,' '  De  Oratore,' '  Brutus  sive  de  works< 
claris  Oratoribus,'  *  Orator  sive  de  optimo  genere  Dicendi,'  '  De  parti- 
tione  Oratoria,'  '  Topica  de  optimo  genere  Oratorum.'  The  last- 
mentioned,  which  is  a  fragment,  is  understood  to  have  been  the 
proem  to  his  translation  (now  lost)  of  the  speeches  of  Demosthenes 
and  JEschines,  '  De  Corona.'  These  he  translated  with  the  view  of 
defending,  by  the  example  of  the  Greek  orators,  his  own  style  of 
eloquence,  which,  as  we  shall  afterwards  find,  the  critics  of  the  day 
censured  as  too  Asiatic  in  its  character  ;  and  hence  the  preface,  which 
still  survives,  is  on  the  subject  of  the  Attic  style  of  oratory.  This 
composition  and  his  abstracts  of  his  own  orations3  are  his  only  rhe- 
torical works  now  extant,  and  probably  our  loss  is  not  very  great. 

1  See  Fabricius,  Bibliothec.  Latin. ;  Olivet,  in  Cic.  op.  omn. ;  Middleton's  Life. 

2  History  of  Greek  and  Roman  Philosophy,  in  this  Encyclopaedia. 

3  Quint.  Inst.  x.  7. 

Q2 


228  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

'  Treatise^on  The  '  Treatise  on  Rhetoric,'  addressed  to  Herennius,  though  edited 
with  his  works,  and  ascribed  to  him  by  several  of  the  ancients,  is 
now  generally  attributed  to  Cornificius,  or  some  other  writer  of  the 
same  period. 

These  works  consider  the  art  of  rhetoric  in  different  points  of  view, 
and  thus  receive  from  each  other  mutual  support  and  illustration, 
while  they  prevent  the  tediousness  which  might  else  arise  from  same- 
ness in  the  subject  of  discussion.  Three  are  in  the  form  of  dialogue  ; 
the  rest  are  written  in  his  own  person.  In  all,  except  perhaps  the 
4  Orator,'  he  professes  to  have  digested  the  principles  of  the  Aristotelic 
and  Isocratean  schools  into  one  finished  system,  selecting  what  was 
best  in  each,  and,  as  occasion  might  offer,  adding  remarks  and  pre- 
cepts of  his  own.1  The  subject  is  considered  in  three  distinct  lights  f 
with  reference  to  the  case,  the  speaker,  and  the  speech.  The  case,  as 
respects  its  nature,  is  definite  or  indefinite ;  with  reference  to  the 
hearer,  it  is  judicial,  deliberative,  or  descriptive  ;  as  regards  the  oppo- 
nent, the  division  is  fourfold — according  as  the  fact,  its  nature,  its 
quality,  or  its  propriety  is  called  in  question.  The  art  of  the  speaker 
is  directed  to  five  points:  the  discovery  of  persuasives  (whether 
ethical,  pathetical,  or  argumentative),  arrangement,  diction,  memory, 
delivery.  And  the  speech  itself  consists  of  six  parts :  introduction, 
statement  of  the  case,  division  of  the  subject,  proof,  refutation,  and 
conclusion. 

c  De  inven-        His  treatises  l  De  Inventione '  and  '  Topica,'  the  first  and  nearly  the 
tioue.'  last   of  his    compositions,  are  both  on  the  invention  of  arguments, 

which  he  regards,  with  Aristotle,  as  the  very  foundation  of  the  art; 
though  he  elsewhere  confines  the  term  eloquence,  according  to  its 
derivation,  to  denote  excellence  of  diction  and  delivery,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  argumentative  skill.3  The  former  of  these  works  was  written 
at  the  age  of  twenty,  and  seems  originally  to  have  consisted  of  four 
books,  of  which  but  two  remain.4  In  the  first  of  these  he  considers 
rhetorical  invention  generally,  supplies  common-places  for  the  six 
parts  of  an  oration  promiscuously,  and  gives  a  full  analysis  of  the  two 
forms  of  arguments,  syllogism  and  induction.  In  the  second  book  he 
applies  these  rules  particularly  to  the  three  subject-matters  of  rhetoric, 
the  deliberative,  the  judicial,  and  the  descriptive,  dwelling  principally 
on  the  judicial,  as  affording  the  most  ample  field  for  discussion.  This 
treatise  seems  nearly  entirely  compiled  from  the  writings  of  Aristotle, 
Isocrates,  and  Hermagoras  ;5  and  as  such  he  alludes  to  it  in  the 
opening  of  his  '  De  Oratore '  as  deficient  in  the  experience  and  judg- 
ment which  nothing  but  time  and  practice  can  impart.  Still  it  is  an 
entertaining,  nay  useful,  work ;  remarkable,  even  among  Cicero's 
writings,  for  its  uniform  good  sense,  and  less  familiar  to  the  scholar, 

1  De  Invent,  ii.  2  et  3  ;  ad  Fam.  i.  9. 

2  Confer  de  part.  Orat.  with  de  Invent.  3  Orat.  19. 

4  Vossius,  de  Nat.  Rhet.  c.  xiii. ;  Fabricius,  Bibliothec.  Latin. 

5  De  Invent,  i.  5,  6 ;  de  Clar.  Orat.  76. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  229 

only  because  the  greater  part  has  been  superseded  by  the  composi- 
tions of  his  riper  years.  His  '  Topica,'  or  treatise  on  common-places,  « Topica.' 
has  less  extent  and  variety  of  plan,  being  little  else  than  a  compen- 
dium of  Aristotle's  work  on  the  same  subject.  It  was,  as  he  informs 
us  in  its  proem,  drawn  up  from  memory  on  his  voyage  from  Italy  to 
Greece,  soon  after  Caesar's  murder,  and  in  compliance  with  the  wishes 
of  Trebatius,  who  had  sometime  before  urged  him  to  undertake  the 
translation.1 

Cicero  seems  to  have  intended 'his  '  De  Oratore,'  'Brutus,'  and  ' De Orator*. 
'  Orator,'  to  form  one  complete  system.2  Of  these  three  noble  works, 
the  first  lays  down  the  principles  and  rules  of  the  rhetorical  art ;  the 
second  exemplifies  them  in  the  most  eminent  speakers  of  Greece  and 
Rome;  and  the  third  shadows  out  the  features  of  that  perfect  orator, 
whose  superhuman  excellences  should  be  the  aim  of  our  ambition. 
The  '  De  Oratore'  was  written  when  the  author  was  fifty-two,  two 
years  after  his  return  from  exile ;  and  is  a  dialogue  between  some  of 
the  most  illustrious  Romans  of  the  preceding  age  on  the  subject  of 
oratory.  The  principal  speakers  are  the  orators  Crassus  and  An- 
tonius,  who  are  represented  unfolding  the  principles  of  their  art  to 
Sulpicius  and  Cotta,  young  men  just  rising  at  the  bar.  In  the  first 
book,  the  conversation  turns  on  the  subject-matter  of  rhetoric,  and 
the  qualifications  requisite  for  the  perfect  orator.  Here  Crassus  main- 
tains the  necessity  of  his  being  acquainted  with  the  whole  circle  of 
the  arts,  while  Antonius  confines  eloquence  to  the  province  of  speak- 
ing well.  The  dispute,  for  the  most  part,  seems  verbal  ;  for  Cicero 
himself,  though  he  here  sides  with  Crassus,  yet,  elsewhere,  as  we 
have  above  noticed,  pronounces  eloquence,  strictly  speaking,  to  con- 
sist in  beauty  of  diction.  Scaevola,  the  celebrated  lawyer,  takes  part 
in  this  preliminary  discussion;  but,  in  the  ensuing  meetings,  makes 
way  for  Catulus  and  Caesar,  the  subject  leading  to  such  technical  dis- 
quisitions as  were  hardly  suitable  to  the  dignity  of  the  aged  augur.8 
The  next  morning  Antonius  enters  upon  the  subject  of  invention, 
which  Ca?sar  completes  by  subjoining  some  remarks  on  the  use  of 
humour  in  oratory ;  and  Antonius,  relieving  him,  finisKes  the  morning 
discussion  with  the  principles  of  arrangement  and  memory.  In  the 
afternoon  the  rules  for  propriety  and  elegance  of  diction  are  explained 
by  Crassus,  who  was  celebrated  in  this  department  of  the  art ;  and 
the  work  concludes  with  his  treating  the  subject  of  delivery  and 
action.  Such  is  the  plan  of  the  '  De  Oratore,'  the  most  finished  per- 
haps of  Cicero's  compositions.  An  air  of  grandeur  and  magnificence 
reigns  throughout.  The  characters  of  the  aged  senators  are  finely 
conceived,  and  the  whole  company  is  invested  with  an  almost  religious 
majesty,  from  the  allusions  interspersed  to  the  miserable  destinies  for 
which  its  members  were  reserved. 

His  treatise  '  De  claris  Oratoribus,'  was  written  after  an  interval  of  <  De  clans ) 
nine  years,  about  the  time  of  Cato's  death,  and  is  conveyed  in  a  Oratonbus- 
1  Ad  Fam.  vii.  19.  2  De  Div.  ii.  1.  3  Ad  Atticum,  iv.  16. 


230 


ROMAX   PHILOSOPHY. 


'  Orator.' 


partitione 
Oratoria.' 


Moral  and 

Physical 

writings. 


<  He 
Republic^.' 


Recent 
discovery  of 
additional 
fragments  of 
his  Treatises. 


dialogue  between  Brutus,  Atticus,  and  himself.  He  begins  with 
Solon,  and  after  briefly  mentioning  the  orators  of  Greece,  proceeds  to 
those  of  his  own  country,  so  as  to  take  in  the  whole  period  from  the 
time  of  Junius  Brutus  down  to  himself.  About  the  same  time  he 
wrote  his  *  Orator ;'  in  which  he  directs  his  attention  principally  to 
diction  and  delivery,  as  in  his  *  De  Inventione '  and  '  Topica '  he 
considers  the  matter  of  an  oration.1  This  treatise  is  of  a  less  prac- 
tical nature  than  the  rest.2  It  adopts  the  principles  of  Plato,  and 
delineates  the  perfect  orator  according  to  the  abstract  conceptions  of 
the  intellect,  rather  than  the  deductions  of  observation  and  experience. 
Hence  he  sets  out  with  a  definition  of  the  perfectly  eloquent  man, 
whose  characteristic  it  is  to  express  himself  with  propriety  on  all 
subjects,  whether  humble,  great,  or  of  an  intermediate  character  ;3  and 
here  he  has  an  opportunity  of  paying  some  indirect  compliments  to 
himself.  With  this  work  he  was  so  well  satisfied,  that  he  does  not 
scruple  to  declare,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  that  he  was  ready  to  risk  his 
reputation  for  judgment  in  oratory  on  its  merits.4 

The  treatise  '  De  partitione  Oratoria,'  or  on  the  three  parts  of 
rhetoric,  is  a  kind  of  catechism  between  Cicero  and  his  son,  drawn 
up  for  the  use  of  the  latter  at  the  same  time  with  the  two  preceding. 
It  is  the  most  systematic  and  perspicuous  of  his  rhetorical  works, 
but  seems  to  be  but  the  rough  draught  of  what  he  originally  in- 
tended.5 

The  connexion  which  we  have  been  able  to  preserve  between  the 
rhetorical  writings  of  Cicero  will  be  quite  unattainable  in  his  moral 
and  physical  treatises ;  partly  from  the  extent  of  the  subject,  partly 
from  the  losses  occasioned  by  time,  partly  from  the  inconsistency 
which  we  have  warned  the  reader  to  expect  in  his  sentiments.  In 
our  enumeration,  therefore,  we  shall  observe  no  other  order  than  that 
which  the  date  of  their  composition  furnishes. 

The  earliest  now  extant  is  part  of  his  treatise  *  De  Legibus,'  in 
three  books ;  being  a  sequel  to  his  work  on  Politics.  Both  were 
written  in  imitation  of  Plato's  treatises  on  the  same  subjects.6  The 
latter  of  these  (*  De  Republics! ')  was  composed  a  year  after  the  '  De 
Oratore,'7  and  seems  to  have  vied  with  it  in  the  majesty  and  interest 
of  the  dialogue.  It  consisted  of  a  series  of  discussions,  in  six  books, 
on  the  origin  and  principles  of  government,  Scipio  being  the  principal 
speaker ;  but  Laelius,  Philus,  Manilius,  and  other  personages  of  like 
gravity  taking  part  in  the  conversation.  Till  lately,  but  a  fragment  of 
the  fifth  book  was  understood  to  be  in  existence,  in  which  Scipio, 
under  the  fiction  of  a  dream,  inculcates  the  doctrine  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul.  But  in  the  year  1822,  Monsignor  Mai,  librarian 
of  the  Vatican,  published  considerable  portions  of  the  first  and  second 
books,  from  a  palimpsest  manuscript  of  St.  Austin's  '  Commentary  on 

1  Orat.  16.  2  Ibid.  14,  31.  3  Ibid.  21,  29. 

4  Ad  Fam.  vi.  18.  5  See  Middleton,  vol.  ii.  p.  147,  4to. 

6  De  Legg.  i.  5.  7  Ang.  Mai,  prsef.  in  Kemp.    Middleton,  vol.  i.  p.  486. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  231 

the  Psalms.'  In  the  part  now  recovered,  Scipio  discourses  on  the 
different  kinds  of  constitutions  and  their  respective  advantages ;  with 
a  particular  reference  to  that  of  Rome.  In  the  third,  the  subject  of 
justice  was  discussed  by  Laslius  and  Philus  ;  in  the  fourth,  Scipio 
treated  of  morals  and  education ;  while  in  the  fifth  and  sixth,  the 
duties  of  a  magistrate  were  explained,  and  the  best  means  of  preventing 
changes  and  revolutions  in  the  constitution  itself.  In  the  latter  part 
of  the  treatise,  allusion  was  made  to  the  actual  posture  of  affairs  in 
Rome,  when  the  conversation  was  supposed  to  have  occurred,  and  the 
commotions  excited  by  the  Gracchi. 

In  his  treatise  *  De  Legibus,'  which  was  written  two  years  later  <De  Legibus.' 
than  the  former,  and  shortly  after  the  murder  of  Clodius,  he  repre- 
sents himself  as  explaining  to  his  brother  Quintus,  and  Atticus,  in 
their  walks  through  the  woods  of  Arpinum,  the  nature  and  origin 
of  the  laws,  and  their  actual  state,  both  in  other  countries  and  in 
Rome.  The  first  part  only  of  the  subject  is  contained  in  the  books 
now  extant;  the  introduction  to  which  we  have  had  occasion  to 
notice,  when  speaking  of  his  stoical  sentiments  on  questions  con- 
nected with  state  policy.  Law  he  pronounces  to  be  the  perfection  of 
reason,  the  eternal  mind,  the  divine  energy,  which,  while  it  pervades 
and  unites  in  one  the  whole  universe,  associates  gods  and  men  by  the 
more  intimate  resemblance  of  reason  and  virtue,  and  still  more  closely 
men  with  men,  by  the  participation  of  common  faculties,  affections, 
and  situations.  He  then  proves,  at  length,  that  justice  is  not  merely 
created  by  civil  institutions,  from  the  power  of  conscience,  the  imper- 
fections of  human  law,  the  moral  sense,  and  the  disinterestedness  of 
virtue.  He  next  proceeds  to  unfold  the  principles,  first,  of  religious 
law,  under  the  heads  of  divine  worship ;  the  observance  of  festivals 
and  games ;  the  office  of  priests,  augurs,  and  heralds ;  the  punishment 
of  sacrilege  and  perjury ;  the  consecration  of  land,  and  the  rights  of 
sepulchre ;  and,  secondly,  of  civil  law,  which  gives  him  an  opportunity 
of  noticing  the  respective  duties  of  magistrate  and  citizens.  In  these 
discussions,  though  professedly  speaking  of  the  abstract  question,  he 
does  not  hesitate  to  anticipate  the  subject  of  the  lost,  books,  by  fre- 
quent allusions  to  the  history  and  customs  of  his  own  country.  It 
may  be  added,  that  in  no  part  of  his  writings  do  worse  specimens 
occur,  than  in  this  treatise,  of  that  vanity  which  was  notoriously  his 
weakness,  which  are  rendered  doubly  odious  by  the  affectation  of 
putting  them  into  the  mouth  of  his  brother  and  Atticus.1 

Here  a  period  of  eight  years  intervenes,  during  which  he  composed 
little  of  importance   besides  his  orations.     He  then  published  the 
*  Brutus'  and  'Orator;'  and  the  year  after,  his  '  Academics  Quass-  « Academic® 
tiones,'  in  the  retirement  from  public  business  to  which  he  was  driven  Q«»stiones.' 
by  the  dictatorship  of  Caesar.     This  work  had  originally  consisted  of 
two  dialogues,  which  he  entitled  '  Catulus '  and  '  Lucullus,'  from  the 

1  Quint.  Inst.  xi.  1. 


232  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

names  of  the  respective  speakers  in  each.  These  he  now  remodelled 
and  enlarged  into  four  books,  dedicating  them  to  Varro,  whom  he 
introduced  as  advocating,  in  the  presence  of  Atticus,  the  tenets  of 
Antiochus,  while  he  himself  defended  those  of  Philo.  Of  this  most 
valuable  composition,  only  the  second  book  ('  Lucullus')  of  the  first 
edition,  and  part  of  the  first  of  the  second  are  now  extant.  In  the 
former  of  the  two,  Lucullus  argues  against,  and  Cicero  for,  the  Aca- 
demic sect,  in  the  presence  of  Catulus  and  Hortensius ;  in  the  latter, 
Varro  pursues  the  history  of  philosophy  from  Socrates  to  Arcesilas, 
and  Cicero  continues  it  down  to  the  time  of  Carneades.  In  the  second 
edition,  the  style  was  corrected,  the  matter  condensed,  and  the  whole 
polished  with  extraordinary  care  and  diligence.1 

De  Finibus.'  The  same  year  he  published  his  treatise  *  De  Finibus,'  or  the  chief 
good,  in  five  books,  in  which  are  explained  the  sentiments  of  the 
Epicureans,  Stoics,  and  Peripatetics  on  the  subject.  This  is  the  earliest 
of  his  works  in  which  the  dialogue  is  of  the  disputatious  kind.  It  is 
opened  with  a  defence  of  the  Epicurean  tenets,  concerning  pleasure, 
by  Torquatus ;  to  which  Cicero  replies  at  length.  The  scene  then 
shifts  from  the  Cuman  villa  to  the  library  of  young  Lucullus  (his 
father  being  dead),  where  the  Stoic  Cato  expatiates  on  the  sublimity 
of  the  system  which  maintains  the  existence  of  one  only  good,  and  is 
answered  by  Cicero  in  the  character  of  a  Peripatetic.  Lastly,  Piso,  in 
a  conversation  held  at  Athens,  enters  into  an  explanation  of  the  doc- 
trine of  Aristotle,  that  happiness  is  the  greatest  good.  The  general 
style  of  his  treatise  is  elegant  and  perspicuous ;  and  the  last  book  in 
particular  has  great  variety  and  splendour  of  diction. 

We  have  already,  in  our  memoir  of  Cassar,  observed  that  Cicero 
was  about  this  time  particularly  courted  by  the  heads  of  the  dictator's 
party,  of  whom  Hirtius  and  Dolabella  went  so  far  as  to  declaim  daily 
at  his  house  for  the  benefit  of  his  instructions.2  A  visit  of  this  nature 
to  his  Tusculan  villa,  soon  after  the  publication  of  the  '  De  Finibus/ 
'  Tuscuianse  gave  rise  to  his  work  entitled  '  TusculanaB  Quasstiones,'  which  pro- 
Quaestiones.1  fesses  to  be  the  substance  of  five  philosophical  disputes  between  him- 
self and  friends,  digested  into  as  many  books.  He  argues  throughout 
on  Academic  principles,  even  with  an  affectation  of  inconsistency; 
sometimes  making  use  of  the  Socratic  dialogue,  sometimes  launching 
out  into  the  diffuse  expositions  which  characterise  his  other  treatises.3 
He  first  disputes  against  the  fear  of  death ;  and  in  so  doing  he  adopts 
the  opinion  of  the  Platonic  school,  as  regards  the  nature  of  God  and 
the  soul.  The  succeeding  discussions  on  enduring  pain,  on  alleviating 
grief,  on  the  other  emotions  of  the  mind,  and  on  virtue,  are  conducted 
for  the  most  part  on  Stoical  principles.4  This  is  a  highly  ornamental 
composition,  and  contains  more  quotations  from  the  poets  than  any 
other  of  Cicero's  treatises. 

1  Ad  Atticum,  xiii.  13,  16,  19.  2  Ad  Fam.  ix.  16,  18. 

3  Tusc.  Qusest.  v.  4,  11.  4  Ibid.  iii.  10  ;  v.  27. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  233 

We  have  already  had  occasion  to  remark  upon  the  singular  activity 
of  his  mind,  which  becomes  more  and  more  conspicuous  as  we  ap- 
proach the  period  of  his  death.  During  the  ensuing  year,  which  is 
the  last  of  his  life,  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  and  anxieties  con- 
sequent on  Caesar's  death,  he  found  time  to  write  the  '  De  Natura 
Deorum,'  *  De  Divinatione,'  *  De  Fato,'  '  De  Senectute,'  '  De  Amicitia,' 
*  De  Officiis,'  and  '  Paradoxa,'  besides  the  treatise  on  Rhetorical  Com- 
mon Places  above  mentioned. 

Of  these  the  first  three  were  intended  as  a  full  exposition  of  the 
opposite  opinions  entertained  on  their  respective  subjects ;  the  '  De 
Fato,'  however,  was  not  finished  according  to  this  plan.1  His  treatise 
'  De  Natura  Deorum,'  in  three  books,  may  be  reckoned  the  most « De  Natura 
magnificent  of  all  his  works,  and  shows  that  neither  age  nor  disap-  Deorum-' 
pointment  had  done  injury  to  the  richness  and  vigour  of  his  mind.  In 
the  first  book,  Velleius,  the  Epicurean,  sets  forth  the  physical  tenets 
of  his  sect,  and  is  answered  by  Cotta,  who  is  of  the  Academic  school. 
In  the  second,  Balbus,  the  disciple  of  the  Porch,  gives  an  account  of 
his  own  system,  and  is,  in  turn,  refuted  by  Cotta  in  the  third.  The 
eloquent  extravagance  of  the  Epicurean,  the  solemn  enthusiasm  of  the 
Stoic,  and  the  brilliant  raillery  of  the  Academic,  are  contrasted  with 
extreme  vivacity  and  humour.  While  the  sublimity  of  the  subject 
itself  imparts  to  the  whole  composition  a  grander  and  more  elevated 
character,  and  discovers  in  the  author  imaginative  powers,  which, 
celebrated  as  he  justly  is  for  playfulness  of  fancy,  might  yet  appear 
more  the  talent  of  the  poet  than  the  orator. 

His  treatise  *  De  Divinatione'  is  conveyed  in  a  discussion  between  '  p«  . 
his  brother  Quintus  and  himself,  in  two  books.  In  the  former,  Quintus, 
after  dividing  Divination  into  the  heads  of  natural  and  artificial,  argues 
with  the  Stoics  for  its  sacred  nature,  from  the  evidence  of  facts,  the 
agreement  of  all  nations,  and  the  existence  of  gods.  In  the  latter, 
Cicero  questions  its  authority,  with  Carneades,  from  the  uncertain 
nature  of  its  rules,  the  absurdity  and  uselessness  of  the  art,  and  the 
possibility  of  accounting  from  natural  causes  for  the  phenomena  on 
which  it  was  founded.  This  is  a  curious  work,  from  t-he  numerous 
cases  adduced  from  the  histories  of  Greece  and  Rome,  to  illustrate  the 
subject  in  dispute.  , 

His  treatise  '  De  Fato'  is  quite  a  fragment ;  it  purports  to  be  the  '  De  Fato.' 
substance  of  a  dissertation  in  which  he  explained  to  Hirtius  (soon  after 
consul)  the  sentiments  of  Chrysippus,  Diodorus,  Epicurus,  Carneades, 
and  others,  upon  that  abstruse  subject.  It  is  supposed  to  have  con- 
sisted at  least  of  two  books,  of  which  we  have  but  the  proem  of  the 
first,  and  a  small  portion  of  the  second. 

In  his  beautiful  compositions  *  De  Senectute' and  '  De  Amicitia,'  <  DeSenec- 
Cato  the  censor  and  Lselius  are  respectively  introduced,  delivering  their 
sentiments  on  those  subjects.      The  conclusion  of  the  former,  in  which 

1  De  Nat.  Deor.  i.  6  ;  de  Div.  i.  4 ;  de  Fat.  1. 


234 


ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 


'  Paradoxa 
Stoicorum.' 


Cato  discourses  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  has  been  always  cele- 
brated ;  and  the  opening  of  the  latter,  in  which  Fannius  and  Scasvola 
come  to  console  Lselius  on  the  death  of  Scipio,  is  as  exquisite  an  instance 
of  delicacy  and  taste  as  can  be  found  in  his  works.  In  the  latter  he 
has  borrowed  largely  from  the  eighth  and  ninth  books  of  Aristotle's 
'  Ethics.' 

De  Officiis.1  His  treatise  '  De  Officiis'  was  finished  about  the  time  he  wrote  his 
second  Philippic,  a  circumstance  which  illustrates  the  great  versatility 
of  his  mental  powers.  Of  a  work  so  extensively  celebrated,  it  is 
enough  to  have  mentioned  the  name.  Here  he  lays  aside  the  less 
authoritative  form  of  dialogue,  and,  with  the  dignity  of  the  Roman 
consul,  unfolds,  in  his  own  person,  the  principles  of  morals,  according 
to  the  views  of  the  older  schools,  particularly  of  the  Stoics.  It  is 
written,  in  three  books,  with  great  perspicuity  and  elegance  of  style ; 
the  first  book  treats  of  the  lionestum,  the  second  of  the  utik,  and  the 
third  adjusts  the  claims  of  the  two,  when  they  happen  to  interfere 
with  each  other. 

His  *  Paradoxa  Stoicorum'  might  have  been  more  suitably,  perhaps, 
included  in  his  rhetorical  works,  being  six  short  declamations  in  sup- 
port of  the  positions  of  Zeno ;  in  which  that  philosopher's  subtleties 
are  adapted  to  the  comprehension  of  the  vulgar,  and  the  events  of  the 
times.  The  second,  fourth,  and  sixth,  are  respectively  directed  against 
Antony,  Clodius,  and  Crassus.  They  seem  to  have  suffered  from  time.1 
The  sixth  is  the  most  eloquent,  but  the  argument  of  the  third  is  strik- 
ingly maintained. 

Besides  the  works  now  enumerated  we  have  a  considerable  frag- 
ment of  his  translation  of  Plato's  '  Timaeus',  which  he  seems  to  have 
finished  about  this  time.  His  remaining  philosophical  works,  viz. : 
the  *  Hortensius,'  which  was  a  defence  of  philosophy ;  *  De  Gloria,'  c  De 
Consolatione,'  written  upon  Platonic  principles  on  his  daughter's 
death  ;  '  De  Jure  Civili,'  '  De  Virtutibus,'  '  De  Auguriis,'  '  Chorogra- 
phia,'  translations  of  Plato's  '  Protagoras,'  and  Xenophon's  *  (Econo- 
mics,' works  on  Natural  History,  Panegyric  on  Cato,  and  some 
miscellaneous  writings  are,  except  a  few  fragments,  entirely  lost. 
Epistles.  His  Epistles,  about  one  thousand  in  all,  are  comprised  in  thirty-six 

books,  sixteen  of  which  are  addressed  to  Atticus,  three  to  his  brother 
Quintus,  one  to  Brutus,  and  sixteen  to  his  different  friends ;  and  they 
form  a  history  of  his  life  from  his  fortieth  year.  Among  those  ad- 
dressed to  his  friends  some  occur  from  Brutus,  Metellus,  Plancius, 
Cselius,  and  others.  For  the  preservation  of  this  most  valuable  de- 
partment of  Cicero's  writings,  we  are  indebted  to  Tyro,  the  author's 
freedman,  though  we  possess,  at  the  present  day,  but  a  part  of  those 
originally  published.  As  his  correspondence  with  his  friends  belongs 
to  his  character  as  a  man  and  politician,  rather  than  to  his  powers  as 
an  author,  we  have  already  noticed  it  in  the  first  part  of  this  memoir. 

1  Sciopp.  in  Olivet. 


MARCUS    TULLIUS   CICERO.  235 

His  poetical  and  historical  works  have  suffered  a  heavier  fate.  The  Poetical  and 
latter  class,  consisting  of  his  commentary  on  his  consulship,  and  his  "^ical 
history  of  his  own  times,  is  altogether  lost.  Of  the  former,  which 
consisted  of  the  heroic  poems  '  Halcyone,'  '  Cimon,'  '  Marius,'  and  his 
Consulate,  the  elegy  of  *  Tamelastes,'  translations  of  Homer  and  Aratus, 
epigrams,  &c.,  nothing  remains,  except  some  fragments  of  the  '  Phae- 
nomena '  and  '  Diosemeia '  of  Aratus.  It  may,  however,  be  questioned 
whether  literature  has  suffered  much  by  these  losses.  We  are  far, 
indeed,  from  speaking  contemptuously  of  the  poetical  powers  of  one 
who  possessed  so  much  fancy,  so  much  taste,  and  so  fine  an  ear.1  But 
his  poems  were  principally  composed  in  his  youth ;  and  afterwards, 
when  his  powers  were  more  mature,  his  occupations  did  not  allow 
even  his  active  mind  the  time  necessary  for  polishing  a  language  still 
more  ragged  in  metre  than  it  was  in  prose.  His  contemporary  his- 
tory, on  the  other  hand,  can  hardly  have  conveyed  more  explicit,  and 
certainly  would  have  contained  less  faithful,  information  than  his  pri- 
vate correspondence;  while,  with  all  the  penetration  he  assuredly 
possessed,  it  may  be  doubted  if  his  diffuse  and  graceful  style  of 
thought  and  composition  was  adapted  for  the  depth  of  reflection  and 
condensation  of  meaning,  which  are  the  chief  excellences  of  historical 
composition. 

The  orations  which  he  is  known  to  have  composed  amount  in  all  Orations. 
to  about  eighty,  of  which  fifty-nine  either  entire  or  in  part  are  pre- 
served. Of  these  some  are  deliberative,  others  judicial,  others  de- 
scriptive ;  some  delivered  from  the  rostrum  or  in  the  senate ;  others 
in  the  forum  or  before  Csssar ;  and,  as  might  be  anticipated  from  the 
character  already  given  of  his  talents,  he  is  much  more  successful  in 
pleading  or  in  panegyric  than  in  debate  or  invective.  In  deliberative 
oratory,  indeed,  great  part  of  the  effect  depends  on  the  confidence 
placed  in  the  speaker ;  and  though  Cicero  takes  considerable  pains  to 
interest  the  audience  in  his  favour,  yet  his  style  is  not  simple  and 
grave  enough;  he  is  too  ingenious,  too  declamatory,  discovers  too 
much  personal  feeling,  to  attain  the  highest  degree  of  excellence  in 
this  department  of  the  art.  His  invectives  again,  however  grand  and 
imposing,  yet,  compared  with  his  calmer  and  more  familiar  produc- 
tions, have  a  forced  and  unnatural  air.  Splendid  as  is  the  eloquence 
of  his  Catilinarians  and  Philippics,  it  is  often  the  language  of  abuse 
rather  than  of  indignation ;  and  even  his  attack  on  Piso,  the  most 
brilliant  and  imaginative  of  its  kind,  becomes  wearisome  from  want 
of  ease  and  relief.  His  laudatory  orations,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
among  his  happiest  efforts.  Nothing  can  exceed  the  taste  and  beauty 
of  those  for  the  Manilian  law,  for  Marcellus,  for  Ligurius,  for  Archias, 
and  the  ninth  Philippic,  which  is  principally  in  praise  of  Servius 
Sulpicius.  But  it  is  in  judicial  eloquence,  particularly  on  subjects  of 
a  lively  cast,  as  in  his  speeches  for  Cselius  and  Mursena,  and  against 

1  See  Plutarch,  in  Vita. 


236  KOMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

Caecilius,  that  his  talents  are  displayed  to  the  best  advantage.  To 
both  kinds  his  amiable  and  pleasant  character  of  mind  imparts 
inexpressible  grace  and  delicacy;  historical  allusions,  philosophical 
sentiments,  descriptions  full  of  life  and  nature,  and  polite  raillery, 
succeed  each  other  in  the  most  agreeable  manner,  without  appearance 
of  artifice  or  effort.  Of  this  nature  are  his  pictures  of  the  confusion 
of  the  Catilinarian  conspirators  on  detection  ;l  of  the  death  of  Me- 
tellus  ;2  of  Sulpicius  undertaking  the  embassy  to  Antonius  ;3  the 
character  he  draws  of  Catiline  ;4  and  his  fine  sketch  of  old  Appius 
frowning  on  his  degenerate  descendant  Clodia.5 

General  dis-  These,  however,  are  but  incidental  and  occasional  artifices  to  divert 
lon'  and  refresh  the  mind,  as  his  orations  are  generally  laid  out  according 
to  the  plan  proposed  in  rhetorical  works;  the  introduction,  containing 
the  ethical  proof;  the  body  of  the  speech,  the  argument,  and  the 
peroration  addressing  itself  to  the  passions  of  the  judge.  In  opening 
his  case,  he  commonly  makes  a  profession  of  timidity  and  diffidence, 
with  a  view  to  conciliate  the  favour  of  his  audience ;  the  eloquence, 
for  instance,  of  Hortensius,  is  so  powerful,6  or  so  much  prejudice  has 
been  excited  against  his  client,7  or  it  is  his  first  appearance  in  the  ros- 
trum,8 or  he  is  unused  to  speak  in  an  armed  assembly,9  or  to  plead  in  a 
private  apartment.10  He  proceeds  to  entreat  the  patience  of  his  judges ; 
drops  out  some  generous  or  popular  sentiment,  or  contrives  to  excite 
prejudice  against  his  opponent.  He  then  states  the  circumstances  of 
his  case,  and  the  intended  plan  of  his  oration ;  and  here  he  is  particu- 
larly clear.  But  it  is  when  he  comes  actually  to  prove  his  point,  that 
his  oratorical  powers  begin  to  have  their  full  play.  He  accounts  for 
everything  so  naturally,  makes  trivial  circumstances  tell  so  happily,  so 
adroitly  converts  apparent  objections  into  confirmations  of  his  argu- 
ment, connects  independent  particulars  with  such  ease  and  plausibility, 
that  it  becomes  impossible  to  entertain  a  question  on  the  truth  of  his 
statement.  This  is  particularly  observable  in  his  defence  of  Cluentius, 
where  prejudices,  suspicions,  and  difficulties  are  encountered  with  the 
most  triumphant  ingenuity;  in  the  antecedent  probabilities  of  his 
*  Pro  Milone  ;'u  in  his  apology  for  Mura^na's  public,12  and  Caelius's 
private,  life,13  and  his  disparagement  of  Verres's  military  services  in 
Sicily  ;w  it  is  observable  in  the  address  with  which  the  Agrarian  law 
of  Rullus,15  and  the  accusation  of  Rabirius,18  both  popular  measures,  are 
represented  to  be  hostile  to  public  liberty;  with  which  Milo's  impolitic 
unconcern  is  made  an  affecting  topic  ;17  and  Cato's  attack  upon  the  crowd 

1  In  Catil.  iii.  3.  2  Pro  Gael.  10.  3  Philipp.  ix.  3. 

4  Pro  Cael.  3.  5  Ibid.  6. 

6  Pro  Quint,  and  pro  Verr.  5.  7  Pro  Cluent. 

8  Pro  Leg.  Manil.  »  Pro  Milon.  10  Pro  Deiotar. 

11  Pro  Milon.  8-10.  12  Pro  Muran.  4.  13  Pro  Cael.  6. 

"  In  Verr.  v.  2,  &c.          15  Contra  Rull.  ii.  9.  l6  Pro  Rabir.  3. 
17  Pro  Milon.  init.  et  alibi. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  237 

of  clients  which  accompanied  the  candidate  for  office,  a  tyrannical 
disregard  for  the  feelings  of  the  poor.1  So  great  indeed  is  his  talent, 
that  (as  we  have  before  hinted)  he  even  hurts  a  good  cause  by  an  excess 
of  plausibility. 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  have  barely  proved  his  point ;  he  proceeds, 
either  immediately,  or  towards  the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  to  heighten 
the  effect  by  exaggeration.2  Here  he  goes  (as  it  were)  round  and 
round  his  object ;  surveys  it  in  every  light ;  examines  it  in  all  its 
parts ;  retires,  and  then  advances ;  turns  and  returns  it ;  compares 
and  contrasts  it;  illustrates,  confirms,  enforces  his  view  of  the  ques- 
tion, till  at  last  the  hearer  feels  ashamed  of  doubting  a  position  which 
seems  built  on  a  foundation  so  strictly  argumentative.  Of  this  nature  is 
his  justification  of  Rabirius  in  taking  up  arms  against  Saturninus  ;3  his 
account  of  the  imprisonment  of  the  Roman  citizens  by  Verres,  and  of 
the  crucifixion  of  Gavius  ;4  his  comparison  of  Antonius  with  Tarquin;5 
and  the  contrast  he  draws  of  Verres  with  Fabius,  Scipio,  andMarius.6 

And  now,  having  established  his  case,  he  opens  upon  his  opponent 
a  discharge  of  raillery,  so  delicate  and  good-natured,  that  it  is  impos  - 
sible  for  the  latter  to  maintain  his  ground  against  it.  Or  where  the 
subject  is  too  grave  to  admit  this,  he  colours  his  exaggeration  with  all 
the  bitterness  of  irony  or  vehemence  of  passion.  Such  are  his  frequent 
delineations  of  Gabinius,  Piso,  Clodius,  and  Antonius;7  particularly  his 
vivid  and  almost  humorous  contrast  of  the  two  consuls,  who  sanctioned 
his  banishment,  in  his  oration  for  Sextius.8  Such  the  celebrated 
account  (already  alluded  to)  of  the  crucifixion  of  Gavius,  which  it  is 
difficult  to  read,  even  at  the  present  day,  without  having  our  feelings 
roused  against  the  merciless  praetor.  But  the  appeal  to  the  gentler 
emotions  of  the  soul  is  reserved  (perhaps  with  somewhat  of  sameness) 
for  the  close  of  his  oration ;  as  in  his  defence  of  Cluentius,  Muraena, 
Caelius,  Milo,  Sylla,  Flaccus,  and  Rabirius  Postumus ;  the  most  striking 
instances  of  wrhich  are  the  poetical  burst  of  feeling  with  which  he  ad- 
dresses his  client  Plancius,9  and  his  picture  of  the  desolate  condition 
of  the  Vestal  Fonteia,  should  her  brother  be  condemned.10  At  other 
times,  his  peroration  contains  more  heroic  and  elevated  sentiments ;  as 
in  his  invocation  of  the  Alban  groves  and  altars  in  the 'peroration  of 
the  '  Pro  Milone,'  the  panegyric  on  patriotism,  and  the  love  of  glory 
in  his  defence  of  Sextius,  and  that  on  liberty  at  the  close  of  the  third 
and  tenth  Philippics.  But  we  cannot  describe  his  oratorical  merits 
more  accurately  than  by  extracting  his  own  delineation  of  a  perfect 
orator :  "  Sic  igitur  dicet  ille,  quern  expetimus,  ut  verset  sa?pe  multis 
modis  eandem  et  unam  rem  ;  et  hagreat  in  eadem,  commoreturque  seu- 
tentia :  ssepe  etiam  ut  extenuet  aliquid,  saepe  ut  irrideat :  ut  declinet  "a 

1  Pro  Mursen.  14.  2  De  Orat.  partit.  c.  viii.  16,  17. 

3  Pro  Rabir.  5.  4  In  Verr.  v.  65,  &c.,  and  64,  &c. 

5  Philipp.  iii.  4.  •  In  Verr.  v.  10. 

7  Pro  Kedit.  in  Senat.;  pro  Dom.;  pro  Sext.  Philipp. 

8  Pro  Sext.  8-10.  9  Pro  Plane.  10  Pro  Fonteio. 


238 


ROMAX  PHILOSOPHY. 


Character  of 
his  style. 


Difference 


Latin 
languages. 


proposito  deflectatque  sententiam  :  ut  proponat  quid  dictnras  sit  :  ut, 
cum  transegerit  jam  aliquid,  definiat  :  ut  se  ipse  revocet  :  ut,  quod 
dixit,  iteret  :  ut  argumentum  ratione  concludat  :  .  .  .  .  ut  dividat  in 
partes  :  ut  aliquid  relinquat  ac  negligat  :  ut  ante  praemuniat  :  ut  in  eo 
ipso,  in  quo  reprehendatur,  culpam  in  adversarium  conferat  :  .  .  .  . 
ut  hominum  sermones  moresque  describat  :  ut  muta  quaedam  loquentia 
inducat  :  ut  ab  eo,  quod  agitur,  avertat  animos  ;  ut  ssepe  in  hilaritatem 
risumve  convertat  :  ut  ante  occupet  quod  videat  opponi  :  ut  comparet 
Similitudines  :  ut  utatur  exemplis  :  .  .  .  .  ut  liberius  quod^audeat  :  ut 
irascatur  etiam:  ut  objurget  aliquando:  ut  deprecetur,  ut  supplicet; 
ut  medeatur  ;  ut  "a  proposito  declinet  aliquantulum  :  ut  optet,  ut  exe- 
cretur  ;  ut  fiat  iis,  apud  quos  dicet,  familiaris."  l 

But  by  the  invention  of  a  style,  which  adapts  itself  with  singular 
felicity  to  every  class  of  subjects,  whether  lofty  or  familiar,  philo- 
sophical or  forensic,  Cicero  answers  even  more  exactly  to  his  own 
definition  of  a  perfect  orator,2  than  by  his  plausibility,  pathos,  and 
brilliancy.  It  is  not,  however,  here  intended  to  enter  upon  the 
consideration  of  a  subject  so  ample  and  so  familiar  to  all  scholars  as 
Cicero's  oratorical  diction,  much  less  to  take  an  extended  view  of  it 
through  the  range  of  his  philosophical  writings,  and  familiar  corre- 
spondence. Among  many  excellences,  the  greatest  is  its  suitableness 
to  the  genius  of  the  Latin  language  ;  though  the  dimiseness  thence 
necessarily  resulting  has  exposed  it,  both  in  his  own  days  and  since 
his  time,  to  the  criticisms  of  those  who  have  affected  to  condemn  its 
Asiatic  character,  in  comparison  with  the  simplicity  of  Attic  writers, 
and  the  strength  of  Demosthenes.3  Greek,  however,  is  celebrated  for 
copiousness  in  its  vocabulary  and  perspicuity  in  its  phrases  ;  and  the 
consequent  facility  of  expressing  the  most  novel  or  abstruse  ideas  with 
precjsion  and  elegance.  Hence  the  Attic  style  of  eloquence  was  plain 
and  simple,  because  simplicity  and  plainness  were  not  incompatible 
with  clearness,  energy,  and  harmony.  But  it  was  a  singular  want  of 
judgment,  an  ignorance  of  the  very  principles  of  composition,  which 
induced  Brutus,  Calvus,  Sallust,  and  others  to  imitate  this  terse  and 
severe  beauty  in  their  own  defective  language,  and  even  to  pronounce 

1  Orat.  40.     ["  Our  model  orator  then  will  often  turn  one  and  the  same  subject 
about  in  many  ways  ;  dwell  and  linger  on  the  same  thought  ;  frequently  extenuate 
circumstances,  frequently  deride  them  ;  sometimes  depart  from  his  object,  and  di- 
rect his  view  another  way  :  propound  what  he  means  to  speak  ;  define  what  he  has 
effected;  recollect  himself;  repeat  what  he  has  said  ;  conclude  his  address  with  an 
argument  ;  distribute  into  parts  ;  leave  and  neglect  something  occasionally  ;  guard 
his  case  beforehand  ;  cast  back  upon  his  adversary  the  very  charges  brought  against 
him  ;  describe  the  language  and  characters  of  men  ;  introduce  inanimate  objects 
speaking  ;  avert  attention  from  the  main  point  ;  turn  a  matter  into  jest  and  amuse- 
ment ;  anticipate  an  objection  ;  introduce  similes  ;  employ  examples  ;  speak  with 
boldness  and  freedom,  even  with  indignation  ;  sometimes  with  invective  ;  implore 
and  entreat  ;  heal  an  offence  ;  occasionally  decline  a  little  from  his  object  ;  implore 
blessings  ;  denounce  execrations  ;  —  in  a  word,  put  himself  on  terms  of  familiarity 
with  the  people  whom  he  addresses."  —  Editor.'] 

2  Orat.  29.  3  Tusc.  Qusest,  i.  1  ;  de  clar.  Orat.  82,  &c.;  de  opt.  gen.  Die. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  239 

the  opposite  kind  of  diction  deficient  in  taste  and  purity.  In  Greek, 
indeed,  the  words  fall,  as  it  were,  naturally,  into  a  distinct  and  har- 
monious order;  and,  from  the  exuberant  richness  of  the  materials, 
less  is  left 'to  the  ingenuity  of  the  artist.  But  the  Latin  language  is 
comparatively  weak,  scanty,  and  unmusical,  and  requires  considerable 
skill  and  management  to  render  it  expressive  and  graceful,  Simplicity 
in  Latin  is  scarcely  separable  from  baldness ;  and  justly  as  Terence  is 
celebrated  for  chaste  and  unadorned  diction,  yet,  even  he,  compared 
with  Attic  writers,  is  flat  and  heavy.1  Again,  the  perfection  of 
strength  is  clearness  united  to  brevity ;  but  to  this  combination  Latin 
is  utterly  unequal.  From  the  vagueness  and  uncertainty  of  meaning 
which  characterises  its  separate  words,  to  be  perspicuous  it  must  be 
full.  What  Livy,  and  much  more  Tacitus,  have  gained  in  energy, 
they  have  lost  in  perspicuity  and  elegance  ;  the  correspondence  of 
Brutus  with  Cicero  is  forcible  indeed,  but  harsh  and  abrupt.  Latin, 
in  short,  is  not  a  philosophical  language,  not  a  language  in  which  a 
deep  thinker  is  likely  to  express  himself  with  purity  or  neatness. 
"  Qui  a  Latinis  exiget  illam  gratiam  sermonis  Attici,"  says  Quintilian, 
"  det  mihi  in  eloquendo  eandem  jucunditatem,  et  parem  copiam.  Quod 
si  negatum  est,  sententias  aptabimus  iis  vocibus  quas  habemus,  nee 
rerum  nimiam  tenuitatem,  ut  non  dicam  pinguioribus,  fortioribus  certe 
verbis  miscebimus,  ne  virtus  utraque  pereat  ipsa  confusione.  Nam 
quo  minus  adjuvat  sermo,  rerum  inventione  pugnandum  est.  Serisus 
sublimes  variique  eruantur.  Permovendi  omnes  affectus  erunt,  oratio 
translationum  nitore  illuminanda.  Non  possumus  esse  tarn  graciles  ? 
simus  fortiores.  Subtilitate  vincimur  ?  valeamus  pondere.  Proprietas 
penes  illos  est  certior?  copia  vincamus."2  This  is  the  very  plan  on 
which  Cicero  has  proceeded.  He  had  to  deal  with  a  language  barren 
and  dissonant ;  his  good  sense  enabled  him  to  perceive  what  could  be 
done,  and  what  it  was  in  vain  to  attempt;  and  happily  his  talents 
answered  precisely  to  the  purpose  required.  Terence  and  Lucretius 
had  cultivated  simplicity ;  Cotta,  Brutus,  and  Calvus  had  attempted 
strength ;  but  Cicero  rather  made  a  language  than  a  style ;  yet  not  so 
much  by  the  invention  as  by  the  combination  of  words.  Some  terms, 
indeed,  his  philosophical  subjects  obliged  him  to  coin  ;*  but  his  great 

1  Quint,  x.  1. 

2  ["  Let  him  who  demands  from  Latin  writers  that  peculiar  charm  of  the  Attic 
style  grant  me  the  same  sweetness  of  expression,  and  equal  copiousness  of  language. 
If  this,  as  it  is,  is  denied  us,  then  we  must  express  ourselves  in  such  words  as  we 
have,  and  not  introduce  confusion,  by  endeavouring  to  discuss  subtile  arguments  in 
language  which,  not  to  call  it  too  heavy,  is  yet  too  strong  ;  lest  both  excellences 
(perspicuity  and  elegance)  perish  by  their  very  commixture.     For  the  less  our  lan- 
guage will  assist  us,  the  more  we  must  labour  to  effect  by  the  invention  of  matter^ 
Let  us  aim  at  extracting  from  our  subject  sentiments  of  sublimity  and  variety.    Let 
us  appeal  to  every  feeling,  and  adorn  our  style  with  metaphorical  embellishments. 
We  cannot  attain  the  elegance  of  the  Greeks;  let  us  exceed  them  in  vigour.     Do 
they  excel  us  in  subtilty  ? — let  us  surpass  them  in  force.     Are  they  superior  in 
exactness  ? — let  us  outstrip  them  in  copiousness  of  detail." — Editor. ~\ 

3  De  Fin.  iii.  1  and  4  ;  Lucull.  6 ;  Plutarch,  in  Vita. 


240 


ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 


Roman 
eloquence. 


Orators 
before 
Cicero. 


art  lies  in  the  application  of  existing  materials,  in  converting  the  very 
disadvantages  of  the  language  into  beauties,1  in  enriching  it  with 
circumlocutions  and  metaphors,  in  pruning  it  of  harsh  and  uncouth 
expressions,  in  systematizing  the  structure  of  a  sentence.8  This  is  that 
"  copia  dicendi "  which  gained  Cicero  the  high  testimony  of  Caesar  to 
his  inventive  powers,3  and  which,  we  may  add,  constitutes  him 
the  greatest  master  of  composition  the  world  has  ever  seen.  If  the 
comparison  be  not  thought  fanciful,  he  may  be  assimilated  to  a  skilful 
landscape-gardener,  who  gives  depth  and  richness  to  narrow  and 
confined  premises,  by  taste  and  variety  in  the  disposition  of  his  trees 
and  walks. 

Such,  then,  are  the  principal  characteristics  of  Cicero's  oratory ;  on 
a  review  of  which  we  may,  with  some  reason,  conclude  that  Roman 
eloquence  stands  scarcely  less  indebted  to  his  compositions  than  Roman 
philosophy.  For,  though  in  his  '  De  claris  Oratoribus'  he  begins  his 
review  from  the  age  of  Junius  Brutus,  yet,  soberly  speaking  (and  as 
he  seems  to  allow  in  the  opening  of  the  '  De  Oratore'),  we  cannot 
assign  an  earlier  date  to  the  rise  of  eloquence  among  his  countrymen, 
than  that  of  the  same  Athenian  embassy  which  introduced  the  study 
of  philosophy.  To  aim,  indeed,  at  persuasion,  by  appeals  to  the  reason 
or  passions,  is  so  natural,  that  no  country,  whether  refined  or  barbarous, 
is  without  its  orators.  If,  however,  eloquence  be  the  mere  power  of 
persuading,  it  is  but  a  relative  term,  limited  to  time  and  place,  con- 
nected with  a  particular  audience,  and  leaving  to  posterity  no  test  of 
its  merits,  but  the  report  of  those  whom  it  has  been  successful  in 
influencing.  "  Vulgus  interdum,"  says  Cicero,  "  non  probandum  ora- 
torem  probat,  sed  probat  sine  comparatione,  cum  a  mediocri  aut  etiam 
a  malo  delectatur ;  eo  est  contentus :  esse  melius  sentit :  illud  quod 
est,  qualecunque  est,  probat."4 

The  eloquence  of  Carneades  and  his  associates  made  (to  use  a  familiar 
term)  a  great  sensation  among  the  Roman  orators,  who  soon  split  into 
two  parties ;  the  one  adhering  to  the  rough  unpolished  manners  of 
their  forefathers,  the  other  favouring  the  artificial  graces  which  distin- 
guished the  Grecian  style.  In  the  former  class  were  Cato  and  Lselius,5 
both  men  of  cultivated  minds,  particularly  Cato,  whose  opposition  to 

1  This,  which  is  analogous  to  his  address  in  pleading,  is  nowhere  more  observable 
than  in  his  rendering  the  recurrence  of  the  same  word,  to  which  he  is  forced  by  the 
barrenness  or  vagueness  of  the  language,  an  elegance. 

2  It  is  remarkable  that  some  authors  attempted  to  account  for  the  invention  of 
the  Asiatic  style,  on  the  same  principle  we  have  here  adduced  to  account  for  Cicero's 
adoption  of  it  in  Latin;  viz.,  that  the  Asiatics  had  a  defective  knowledge  of  Greek, 
and  devised  phrases,  &c.,  to  make  up  for  the  imperfections  of  their  scanty  vocabulary. 
See  Quint,  xii.  10. 

8  De  clar.  Orat.  72. 

4  De  clar.  Orat.  52.    ["  Sometimes  the  multitude  bestow  their  approval  on  an 
orator  who  does  not  deserve  it,  and  are  pleased  with  one  of  mean  or  no  talent : 
they  are  sensible  that  something  better  exists;  but  they  are  content,  and  approve 
what  they  have,  such  as  it  is." — Editor.'] 

5  De  clar.  Orat.  72.     Quint,  xii.  10. 


MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  241 

Greek  literature  was  founded  solely  on  political  considerations.  But, 
as  might  be  expected,  the  Athenian  cause  prevailed;  arid  Carbo  and 
the  two  Gracchi,  who  are  the  principal  orators  of  the  next  generation, 
are  related  to  have  been  learned,  majestic,  and  harmonious  in  the 
character  of  their  speeches.1  These  were  succeeded  by  Antonius, 
Crassus,  Cotta,  Sulpicius,  and  Hortensius ;  who,  adopting  greater 
liveliness  and  variety  of  manner,  form  a  middle  age  in  the  history  of 
Koman  eloquence.  But  it  was  in  that  which  immediately  followed, 
that  the  art  was  adorned  by  an  assemblage  of  orators,  which  even 
Greece  will  find  it  difficult  to  match.  Of  these  Ca3sar,  Cicero,  Curio,  Ciceronian 
Brutus,  Cfeelius,  Calvus,  and  Callidius,  are  the  most  celebrated.  The  ** 
splendid  talents,  indeed,  of  Caesar  were  not  more  conspicuous  in  arms 
than  in  his  oratory,  which  was  noted  for  force  and  purity.2  Caelius, 
who  has  come  before  us  in  the  history  of  the  times,  excelled  in  natural 
quickness,  loftiness  of  sentiment,  and  politeness  in  attack  ;3  Brutus  in 
philosophical  gravity,  though  he  sometimes  indulged  himself  in  a 
warmer  and  bolder  style.4  Callidius  was  delicate  and  harmonious ; 
Curio  bold  and  flowing;  Calvus,  from  studied  opposition  to  Cicero's 
peculiarities,  cold,  cautious,  and  accurate.5  Brutus  and  Calvus  have 
been  before  noticed  as  the  advocates  of  the  dry  sententious  mode  of 
speaking,  which  they  dignified  by  the  name  of  Attic;  a  kind  of 
eloquence  which  seems  to  have  been  popular  from  the  comparative 
facility  with  which  it  was  attained. 

In  the  Ciceronian  age  the  general  character  of  the  oratory  was  dig- 
nified and  graceful.      The  popular  nature  of  the  government  gave 
opportunites  for  effective  appeals  to  the  passions ;  and,  Greek  litera- 
ture being  as  yet  a  novelty,  philosophical  sentiments  were  introduced 
with  corresponding  success.     The  republican  orators  were  long  in 
their  introductions,  diffuse  in  their  statements,  ample  in  their  divisions, 
frequent  in  their  digressions,  gradual  and  sedate  in  their  perorations.6 
Under  the   emperors,  however,    the   people  were  less   consulted   in  Decline  of 
state  affairs ;    and  the  judges,  instead  of  possessing  an  almost  inde-  oratory 
pendent  authority,  being  but  delegates  of  the  executive,  from  interested  ^^J® 
politicians  became  men  of  business ;  literature,  too,  was.now  familiar  Government, 
to  all  classes;   and  taste  began  sensibly  to  decline.     The  national 
appetite  felt  a  craving  for  stronger  and  more  stimulating  compositions. 
Impatience  was  manifested  at  the  tedious  majesty  and  formal  graces, 
the  parade  of  arguments,  grave  sayings,  and  shreds  of  philosophy,7  which 
characterized  their  fathers ;  and  a  smarter  and  more  sparkling  kind  of 

1  De  clar.  Orat.;  pro  Harusp.  resp.  19. 

2  Quint,  x.  1  and  2.     De  clar.  Orat.  75»  3  Ibid. 
4  Ibid,  ad  Atticum,  xiv.  1.  3  Ibid. 
8  Dialog,  de  Orat.  20  and  22,     Quint,  x.  2. 

7  "  It  is  not  uncommon  for  those  who  have  grown  wise  by  the  labour  of  others, 
to  add  a  little  of  their  own,  and  overlook  their  master." — Johnson.  We  have  before 
compared  Cicero  to  Addison  as  regards  the  purpose  of  inspiring  their  respective 
countrymen  with  literary  taste.  They  resembled  each  other  in  the  return  they 
experienced. 

[G.  R.  P.]  R 


242  ROMAN  PHILOSOPHY. 

oratory  succeeded,1  just  as  in  our  own  country,  the  minuet  of  the  last 
century  has  been  supplanted  by  the  quadrille,  and  the  stately  move- 
ments of  Giardini  have  given  way  to  the  brisker  and  more  artificial 
melodies  of  Rossini.  Corvinus,  even  before  the  time  of  Augustus,  had 
shown  himself  more  elaborate  and  fastidious  in  his  choice  of  expres- 
sions.2 Cassius  Severus,  the  first  who  openly  deviated  from  the  old 
style  of  oratory,  introduced  an  acrimonious  and  virulent  mode  of 
pleading.3  It  now  became  the  fashion  to  decry  Cicero  as  inflated, 
languid,  tame,  and  even  deficient  in  ornament  ;4  Mecaenas  and  Gallio 
followed  in  the  career  of  degeneracy ;  till  flippancy  of  attack,  prettiness 
of  expression,  and  glitter  of  decoration  prevailed  over  the  bold  and 
manly  eloquence  of  free  Rome. 


MSS.,  EDITIONS,  &c.,  OF  MARCUS  TULLIUS  CICERO. 

I.  PHILOSOPHICAL  WORKS. 
Editt.  Prince.  :— 

Collected  Philosophical  Works.     Sweynheym  and  Pannartz.     Romse,  1471. 
De  Officiis,  De  Amicitist,  De  Senectute,  Somnium  Scipionis,  Paradoxa,  Tuscu- 
lanse  Qusestiones,  without  name  or  date,  but  known  to  be  published  by 
Gering,  Crantz,  and  Friburger.     Paris,  about  1471. 
De  Legibus,  Academica,  De  Finibus.     Gorenz.     Lips.     1809-13.     (This   edition 

was  intended  to  comprise  the  whole  of  the  Philosophical  works.) 
1.  RHETORICAL  PHILOSOPHY  : — 

Ed.    Princ.     Alexandrinus   and  ^Esulanus.     Venet.    1485.      Containing   De 
Oratore,  Orator,  Topica,  Partitiones  Oratories,  De  Optimo  Genere  Oratorum. 
Reprinted  at  Venice,  1488  and  1495. 
First  complete  edition.     Aldus.     Venet.  1514. 
Schiitz.     Lips.  1804. 

Wetzel  (Opera  Rhetorica  Minora).     Lignitz,  1807. 

Beier  and  Orelli   (Orator,  Brutus,   Topica,  de   Optimo   Genere   Oratorum). 
Turici,  1830. 

PARTITIONES  ORATORIO. 
Ed.  Princ.     Fontana.     Venet.  (?)  1472. 
(Two  other  undated  editions  are  supposed  by  bibliographers  to  be  earlier.     One  is 

known  to  have  been  printed  at  Naples  by  Moravus). 
Gryphius.     Lugd.  Bat.  1545. 
Camerarius.     Lips.  1549. 
Sturmius.     Strasb.  1565. 
Minos.     Paris,  1582. 

Majoragius  and  Marcellinus.     Venet.  1587. 
Hauptmann.     Lips.  1741. 
Subsidium : — 

Reuschius  de  Ciceronis  Partitionibus  Oratoriis.     Helmst.  1723. 

DE  ORATORE. 
The  first  perfect  MS.  of  this  work  was  found  at  Lodi,  hence  called  Codex  Laudensis. 

It  is  now  lost. 
Ed.  Princ.     Sweynheym  and  Pannartz.     At  the  monastery  of  Subiaco,  between 

1465  and  1467. 


1  Dialog.  18.  2  Ibid. 

3  Ibid.  19.  4  Ibid.  18  and  22.    Quint,  xii.  10. 


MSS.,  EDITIONS,  ETC.,  OF   MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  243 

Pearce.     Lond.  1795. 

Wetzel.     Brunsv.  1794. 

Harles.     Lips.  1819  (embracing  Pearce). 

Miiller.     Lips.  1819. 

Heinischen.     Hafn.  1830. 

Subsidia : — 

Ernesti  De  Praestantia  Librorum  Ciceronis  de  Oratore  Prolusio.     Lips.  1736. 

Matthias  Prolegomen  zu  Cicero's  Gesprachen  vom  Kedner.     Francof.  1812. 

Schott,  Commeutarius  quo  Ciceronis  de  Fine  Eloquentiae  Sententia  examinatur. 
Lips.  1801. 

Gierig,  Von  dem  astetischen  Werthe  der  Biicher  des  Cicero's  vom  Reduer. 
Fuld.  1807. 

Schaarschmidt  de  Proposito  Libri  Ciceronis  de  Oratore.     Schneeberg.  1804. 

Trompheller,    Versuch   einer   Characteristik   der    Ciceronischen   Biicher   vom 
Redner.     Coburg,  1830. 

BRUTUS. 

MS.  The  Laudensian  above  mentioned. 
Ed.  Princ.     Sweynheym  and  Pannartz.     Romas,  1469. 
Ellendt.     Konigsberg,  1826. 

ORATOR. 

Ed.  Princ.  same  as  Brutus. 
Meyer.     Lips.  1827. 
Subsidia : — 

Rainus,  Brutinaa  Quaastiones  in  Oratorem  Ciceronis.     Paris,  1549. 

Perionius,  Oratio  pro  Cic.  Oratore  contra  P.  Ramum.     Paris,  1 547. 

Majoragius,  In  Oratorem  Cic.  Commentarius.     Basil.  1552. 

Junius,  In  Oratorem  Cic.  Scholie.     Argent.  1585. 

Burchardus,  Animadv.  ad  Cic.  Oratorem.     Berolin.  1815. 

DE  OPT,  GEX.  ORATORUM. 

Ed.  Princ.  annotante  Achille  Statio.     Paris,  1551  and  1552. 
Saalfrank  (cum  Topicis  et  Partitionibus).     Ratisb.  1823. 

TOPICA. 

Ed.  Princ.  without  name  or  date;  supposed,  Venet.  1472. 

The  Commentaries  of  Boethius,  G.  Valla,  Melancthon,  J.  Visorius,  Hegendorphinus, 
Latomus,  Goveanus,  Talvus,  Curio,  Achilles  Statius,  are  contained  in  the  editions 
printed  at  Paris  by — 

Tiletanus,  1543. 
David,  1550. 
Vascosanus,  1554. 
Richardus,  1557  and  1561. 

RHETORICA  AD  HERENNIUM. 

Ed.  Princ.  in  Ciceronis  Rhetorica  Nova  et  Vetus.     Jenson.     Venet.  1470. 
Burmann,  edited  by  Lindemann.     Lips.  1828. 
Subsidia  : — 

Van  Heusde,  De  .Elio  Stilone.     Utrecht,  1839. 

Regius,  Utrum  Ars  Rhetorica  ad  Herennium  Ciceroni  falso  inscribatur.    Venet. 
1492. 

2.  POLITICAL  PHILOSOPHY  : — 

DE  REPUBLICA. 

MS.  The  work  was  supposed  to  have  been  altogether  lost,  until  the  year  1822 
when  Angelo  Mai  restored  about  one-fourth  of  it  from  a  palimpsest  in  the 
Vatican. 

R2 


244  ROMAN  PHILOSOPHY. 

Ed.  Princ.     Mai.     Romse,  1822. 
Villemain.     Paris,  1823. 
Creuzer  and  Moser.     Francof.  1826. 
Subsidia : — 

Wolf.  Obss.  Critt.  in  M.  Tull.  Cic.  Oratt.  pro  Scauro  et  pro  Tullio,  et  librorum 

de  Rep.  Fragm.     1824. 

Zacharia  Staatswissenschaftliche  Betrachtungen  iiber  Ciceros  neu  aufgefandenes 
Werk  vom  Staate.  Heidelb.  1823. 

DE  LEGIBUS. 

Ed.  Princ.  in  the  Philosophical  Works.     Sweynheym  and  Pannartz.     Romas,  1471. 
Davis.     Cantab.  1727,  1728. 
Gorenz.     Lips.  1809. 
Moser  and  Creuzer.     Francof.  1824. 
Bake.     Lugd.  Bat.  1842. 

3.  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY  : — 

DE  OFFICIIS. 

Ed.  Princ.  with  the  Paradoxa.     Fust  and  Schoffer.      Mainz.  1465  and  1466. 
One  without  date  or  name,  but  supposed  to  be  from  the  press  of  Ulrich  Zell. 

Colon.  1469. 
Another,  generally  referred  to  the  following  year,  supposed  to  be  by  Ulrich  Han,  of 

Rome. 

Sweynheym  and  Pannartz.     Romse,  1469. 
Vindelin  de  Spira.     Venet.  1470. 
Eggesteyn.     Strasb.  1470. 
Heusinger.     Brunsv.  1783. 
Gernhard.     Lips.  1811. 
Beier.     Lips.  1820,  1821. 
Subsidia : — 

Buscher,  Ethicse  Ciceronianse  libri  ii.     Hamb.  1610. 
Rath.  Cic.  de  Officiis  in  brevi  conspectu.     Halas,  1803. 

Thorbecke,  Principia  Philosophise  Moralis  e  Ciceronis  Operibus.  Lugd.  Bat. 
1817. 

CATO  MAJOR  (DE  SENECTUTE). 

Ed.  Princ.  :— 

This  treatise  is  in  the  philosophical  works  printed  by  Sweynheym  and  Pan- 
nartz, but  five  previous  editions  had  appeared  at  Cologne.  They  are 
undated.  The  first  three  were  by  Ulrich  Zell,  the  next  by  Winter  de 
Hornborch,  the  last  by  Arnold  Therhoernen. 

Gernhard  (with  the  Parodoxa).     Lips.  1819. 

Otto.     Lips.  1830. 

L^ELIUS  (DE  AMICITIA). 

Ed.  Princ.     Guldenschaff.     Colon. 

Ulrich  Zell.     Colon. 
These  have  no  date,  but  Guldenschaff's  is  the  earlier,  and  both  are  older  than  the 

edition  of  the  philosophical  works  by  Sweynheym  and  Pannartz. 
Gernhard.     Lips.  1825. 
Beier.     Lips.  1828. 

4.  METAPHYSICAL  PHILOSOPHY  : — 

ACADEMICA. 

Ed.  Princ.     Sweynheym  and  Pannartz  (in  the  philosophical  works). 
Davis.     Cantab.  1725. 
Gorenz.     Lips.  1810. 
Orelli.     Turici,  1827. 


MSS.,  EDITIONS,  ETC.,  OF   MARCUS   TULLIUS   CICERO.  245 

DE  FINIBUS  BONORUM  ET   MALORUM. 
Ed.  Princ.  without  name  or  date.     Believed  to  be  from  the  press  of  Ulrich  Zell,  at 

Cologne,  and  about  1467. 
Joannes  ex  Colonist.     Venet.  1471. 
Davis.     Cantab.  1728. 
Bath.     Hal.  Sax.  1804. 
Gorenz.     Lips.  1813. 
Otto.     Lips.  1831. 
Madvig.     Ham.  1839. 

TUSCULAN^E  QUJESTIONES. 
Ed.  Princ.     Ulrich  Han.     Romse,  1469. 
There  are  several  other  editions  in  the  15th  century. 
Davis.     Cantab.  1709. 
Rath.     Hal.  1805. 
Orelli  et  Variorum.     Turici,  1829. 
Ktihner.     Jen*,  1829. 
Moser.     Hannov.  1836-37  (the  most  complete). 

PARADOXA. 
Ed.  Princ.  (with  the  De  Officiis).     Fust  and  Schoffer.     Mainz.  1465.     Reprinted 

by  Fust  and  Gernshem,  1466. 
Published  with  the  De  Officiis,  De  Amicitia1,  and  De  Senectute,  by  Sweynheym  and 

Pannartz.     Romae,  1469. 

The  same,  with  the  Somnium  Scipionis,  by  Vindelin  de  Spira.     Venet.  1470. 
There  are  many  editions  of  the  18th  century. 
Wetzel.     Lignitz,  1808. 
Gernhard.     Lips.  1819.    ' 
Borgers.     Lugd.  Bat,  1826. 

5.  THEOLOGICAL  PHILOSOPHY  : — 

DE  NATURA  DEORUM. 

Ed.  Princ.  in  the  philosophical  works  by  Sweynheym  and  Pannartz. 
Davis.     Cantab.  1718. 
Moser  and  Creuzer.     Lips.  1818. 

DE  DIVINATIONE. 
Ed.  Princ.  as  above. 
Davis.     Cantab.  1721. 
Rath.     Hal.  1807. 
Creuzer,  Kayser,  and  Moser.     Francof.  1828. 

DE  FATO. 
Published  together  with  "  De  Divinatione." 

SUBSIDIA  ON  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  CICERO. 
Brucker,  Historia  Critica  Philosophise.     Vol.  II.  pp.  1-70. 
Sibert,  Examen  de  la  Philosophic  de  Ciceron. 

(Mem.  de  1'Acad.  des  Inscr.     Vols.  XLII.  and  XLIII.) 
Ritter,  Geschichte  der  Philosophic.     Vol.  IV.  pp.  76-168. 
Waldin,  De  Philosophia  Ciceronis  Platonicst.     Jena.  1753. 
Zierlein,  De  Philosophise  Ciceronis.     Hal.  1770. 
Brieglieb,  Programma  de  Philosophia  Ciceronis.     Cob.  1784. 
Fremling,  Philosophia  Ciceronis.     Lund.  1795. 
Hulsemann,  De  Indole  Philosophise  Ciceronis.     Luneb.  1799. 
Gedicke,  Historia  Philosophise  Antiquae  ex  Ciceronis  scriptis.     Berol.  1815. 
Van  Heusde,  M.  Tullius  Cicero  (JuAoTrXarwj/.     Traj.  ad  Rhen.  1836. 
Kiihner,  M.  Tullii  Ciceronis  in  Philosophiam  et  ejus  partes  merita.     Hamb.  1825. 


246  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

II.  SPEECHES. 

Ed.  Princ.     Sweynheym  and  Pannartz.     Komae,  1471. 

Valdarfer.     Venet.  1471. 

Ambergau.     Venet.  1472. 
There  is  also  an  edition  without  name  or  date,  supposed  to  be  the  true  Editio 

Princeps. 

Roigny.     Paris,  1536. 

Graevius.     Amstel.  1695-1699.     (Variorum  Edition.) 
Klotz.     Lips.  1835. 
The  editions  of  separate  speeches  are  very  numerous. 

III.  LETTERS. 

Ed.  Princ.     Sweynheym  and  Pannartz.     Romse,  1470. 

Jenson.     Venet.  1470. 
Aldus  adnotante  Minucio.     Venet.  1548. 

Schutz.     Hal.     1809-1812.     (This  edition  omits  the  letters  to  Brutus.) 
Subsidium : — 

Abeken.     Cicero  in  seinen  Briefen. 

COMPLETE  WORKS. 

Ed.  Princ.  Minutianus.  Mediol.  1498.          Lambinus.     Paris,  1566. 
Manutius  and  Naugerius.  Venet.  1519          Gruter.     Hamb.  1618. 

-1523.  Gronovius.     Lugd.  Bat.  1691. 

Ascensius.     Paris,  1522.  Verburgius.     Amst.  1724. 

Cratander.     Basil.  1528.  Olivet.     Genev.  1743-1749. 

Hervagius.     Basil.  1534.  Ernesti.     Hal.  Sax.  1774-1777. 

Junta.     Venet.  1534-1537.  Schutz.     Lips.  1814-1823, 

C.  Stephanus.    Paris,  1555.  Orelli.     Turici.  1826-1837. 


SENECA. 

THE  STOICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

BY 

WILLIAM  LOWKDES,  ESQ.,  M.A.,  Q.C., 

BRAZENOSE   COLLEGE,  OXFORD  j 
LATE  JUDGE  OP  THE  COUNTY  COURT,  LIVERPOOL. 


REPRINTED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  EDITION. 


CYNICS  : — 

ANTISTHENES     -------  BORN  B.  c.  420 

DIOGENES    ---------B.C.  414 

ONESICRITDS,  \ 

MONIMUS,        >  CONTEMPORARIES  WITH  DlOGENES. 

CRATES,          J 

STOICS  : — 

ZENO    ----------    B.C.  362 

CLEANTHES-      ---_-___    B.  c.  320 

CHRYSIPPUS        _-___--_    B.c.  280 
PANJETIUS  --------  DIED  B.C.  236 

POSIDONIUS  --------   BORN  B.  C.    135 

SENECA       _--_-___  BORN  B.  c.      8 

DION  PRUS^EUS,  CONTEMPORARY  WITH  SENECA. 

EPICTETUS  --------  DIED  A.  c.  161 

MARCUS  AUBELIUS    -  BEGAN  TO  REIGN  A.  c.  170 


LUCIUS   ANJSMEUS  SENECA.— THE  STOICAL 
PHILOSOPHY. 

FROM  B.  C.   420   TO  A.  C.   170. 

STOICISM  IN  GREECE. 

THE  Stoical  Philosophy,  though  of  Greek  origin,  found  in  Rome  the  Progress  of 
people  to  whose  disposition  and  character  it  was  best  adapted ;  and  21Rome!iy 
it  was  only  among  them,  and  at  a  comparatively  late  period,  under 
the  empire,  that  it  attained  the  height  of  its  development.  In  the 
early  days  of  the  Republic  many  glorious  examples  of  Stoical  virtue 
were  displayed ;  and  Cicero,  in  illustrating  the  paradoxes  of  the  sect, 
reverts  with  patriotic  triumph  to  those  memorable  instances  of  practical 
Stoicism.  But  such  developments  of  character  were  rather  the  result 
of  natural  temperament,  operated  upon  by  circumstances,  than  the  effect 
of  system  or  discipline.  It  was  at  a  later  period  that  the  Stoical 
philosophy  may  be  said  to  have  truly  flourished  at  Rome ;  after  the 
literature  of  Greece  had  been  introduced,  and  when,  according  to  the 
habits  of  individuals,  or  the  temper  of  the  times,  the  different  systems 
of  philosophy  prevailed  in  succession.  The  manliness  of  the  Roman 
character  for  a  long  time  gave  the  preference  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
Porch.  Pomponius,  indeed,  amidst  the  convulsions  attending  succes- 
sive usurpations,  cultivated  the  milder  and  more  soothing  sentiments 
of  Epicurus ;  but  the  delicacy  of  his  nature  and  of  his  studies  was 
looked  upon  as  scarcely  of  a  Roman  mould,  and  his  Attic  surname 
was  but  an  ambiguous  compliment  to  his  refinement.  Although  the 
practice  of  Academic  disputation  captivated  the  youthful  imagination 
of  Cicero,  and  opened  an  attractive  field  for  the  display  of  his  inex- 
haustible treasures  of  eloquence,  yet  the  practical  morality  of  the 
Stoics  seems  always  to  have  commanded  his  respect,  and  to  have  had 
a  latent  ascendency  in  his  heart.  It  certainly  advanced  in  his  esteem 
in  his  declining  years ;  and  his  treatises  on  the  Duties  of  Life,  and  on 
the  Paradoxes  of  the  Stoics,  show  an  affectionate  anxiety  to  extricate 
a  school,  so  eminent  for  virtuous  practice,  from  some  of  its  theoretical 
extravagances,  and  if  possible  to  reconcile  the  dogmas  of  visionaries  to 
the  circumstances  of  society  and  the  real  exigencies  of  life. 

The  Stoical  philosophy,  hardy  and  severe  as  it  was  in  its  discipline,  Cynicism  the 
traced  its  descent  from  a  sect  still  more  austere  and  repulsive  ;l  and 
though  many  of  the  writers  in  the  Stoical  school  attempted  to  ingraft 
on  it  the  doctrines  of  other  sects,  as  was  the  case  with  Seneca;  or 

•  l  Ab  Antisthene,  qui  patientiam  et  duritiam  in  Socratico  sermone  maxime  ada- 
marat,  Cynici  primum,  delude  Stoici  manarunt.  Cic.  de  Or.  3,  17  ;  and  Diog. 
Laert.  vi.  103. 


250  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

gave  way  to  the  suggestions  of  common  sense  and  humanity,  as  may 
be  instanced  in  Panaetius  and  Antoninus  ;  yet  Stoicism,  as  such,  always 
bore  strong  traces  of  its  Cynical  origin.  It  will  be  necessary,  there- 
fore, in  developing  the  doctrines  of  the  Porch,  to  premise  a  short 
account  of  the  parent  school,  that  of  the  Cynics. 

Antisthenes.  Antisthenes,  the  founder  of  this  sect,  was  born  in  the  year  420  B.C. 
at  Athens,  of  a  Thracian  mother.  In  his  early  youth  he  studied  the 
art  of  eloquence  under  Gorgias  ;  but  his  admiration  of  the  independence 
and  severe  morality  of  Socrates,  induced  him  to  quit  the  rhetorician, 
that  he  might  become  a  pupil  of  the  philosopher.  That  love  of  singu- 
larity and  perverse  ambition,  which  formed  a  remarkable  trait  in  the 
character  of  Antisthenes,  and  which  attempted  to  disguise  itself  under 
the  show  of  mortification  and  peculiar  homeliness  of  apparel,  did  not 
escape  the  observation  of  his  new  master.  "  I  can  spy,"  said  he, 
"  the  wearer's  pride  peeping  out  through  the  holes  of  those  ragged 
garments."  It  does  not  appear  whether  he  quitted  Athens  on  the 
occasion  of  the  death  of  Socrates,  as  other  disciples  of  that  philosopher 
did  ;  but  a  sarcasm  of  his  is  recorded,  as  having  contributed  to  accele- 
rate the  punishment  of  those  who  effected  that  judicial  murder.  Some 
foreigners,  unapprised  of  the  event,  are  said  to  have  asked  Antisthenes 
where  they  could  find  Socrates'  house  :  he  assured  them  that  Socrates 
was  not  worth  inquiring  after,  but  that  he  could  refer  them  to  a  far 
superior  and  more  accomplished  personage;  and  he  directed  them 
accordingly  to  the  house  of  Anytus.  Soon  after  his  master's  death, 
Antisthenes  seems  to  have  given  full  scope  to  the  peculiarities  of  his 
own  character  ;  and  whether  he  happened  to  select  a  place  which  had 
been  previously  called  the  Dogs  from  some  incident  now  unknown,1  or 
that  he  first  obtained  the  name  of  dog,  and  that  the  place  was  so 
called  in  honour  of  his  Academy,  certain  it  is,  that  he  inveighed  and 
scoffed  in  '  Cynosarges  ;'  and  that  his  adherents  and  imitators  were 
with  great  propriety  termed  Cynics,  or  the  School  of  Barkers.  Little 
more  is  known  of  the  particulars  of  his  history.  It  cannot  be  doubted 
that  his  own  conduct  must  have  been  irreproachable,  and  that  he 
must  have  had  a  robust  sort  of  satirical  wit,  to  have  atoned  for,  and 
sanctioned,  the  absurdities  and  extravagances  of  his  outward  demeanour. 
He  was  a  man  in  many  respects  superior  to  the  generality  of  his 
followers.  Instead  of  decrying  science  and  literature,  he  was  himself 
an  author  ;  and  he  is  said  to  have  left  behind  him  ten  volumes  of  his 
works,  though  they  have  all  now  perished.  We  learn  from  Cicero, 
that  he  maintained  the  unity  of  the  Supreme  Being,  in  opposition  to 
the  polytheism  of  the  vulgar,2  and  that  his  writings  were  valuable,  as 
monuments  rather  of  his  sagacity  than  of  his  erudition.3  It  is  probable 
that  some  of  the  tales  related  of  him  by  the  followers  of  his  school 
are  mere  fictions  ;  and,  in  fact,  only  descriptions  of  a  Cynical  model, 


vv6ffap'y€i        ..         ., 

rives  Kal  rfyv  KVISLK^V  tyi\offofyiav   tya-criv  ti/revBev   bvop-affQ^vai.  —  Diog« 
Laert.  vi.  13.  2  De  Nat.  Deor.  i.  13.  '  3  Ad  Att.  xii.  38. 


SENECA. — THE  STOICS.  251 

according  to  their  own  notions.  It  is  not  likely,  for  instance,  that  one, 
who  had  himself  been  a  pupil  of  Socrates,  and  who  was  certainly  a 
man  of  sense  as  well  as  humour,  should  have  treated  Diogenes,  when 
he  expressed  himself  willing  to  come  under  his  tuition,  as  if  he  already 
had  been  really  a  dog ;  and  should  have  done  his  best  to  beat  him 
away  with  his  large  staff,  and  that  the  novice  only  prevailed  by  his 
resolute  perseverance  and  endurance  of  honest  blows.1 

Diogenes,  as  has  been  the  case  with  many  others,  rushed  from  the  Diogenes, 
one  extreme  of  licentiousness  to  the  contrary  one  of  asceticism,  and  B'  °* 
sought  to  retrieve  the  dissoluteness  of  his  youth,  by  the  mortification 
and  moroseness  of  his  later  years.  His  temperament  is  represented 
by  all  writers,  as  fervid  and  enthusiastic;  his  humour  was  coarse, 
homely,  and  caustic ;  and  the  specimens  of  it  which  have  been  pre- 
served, exhibit  a  tartness  in  which  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the 
character  of  sagacity  or  of  scurrility  most  predominates.  His  prede- 
cessor was,  by  constitution,  hardy  and  temperate ;  and  observation  of 
the  world  had  confirmed  him  in  his  opinion  of  the  dangerous  nature 
of  the  passions.  His  lectures,  therefore,  and  declamations  against 
pleasure,  were  those  of  a  humane,  though  an  austere  and  rugged 
monitor.  Diogenes,  on  the  contrary,  was  of  a  nature  altogether 
impetuous  and  excitable ;  his  humour  of  restraint  had  as  little  relation 
to  any  rational  purpose  as  his  previous  indulgences.  He  did  not 
attempt  to  instruct,  but  professed  to  reprove  others.  He  gave  no 
lessons  of  prudence  or  severity ;  but  disgorged  his  spleen,  or  envy, 
in  bitter  and  insolent  contumelies.  His  own  uncomfortable  feelings 
found  vent  in  his  taunts  on  all  around  him ;  and,  by  assuming  a  sort 
of  misanthropy  on  principle  he  furnished  abundant  exercise  to  all  the 
malignity  of  his  wit.  Such  satirists  and  ribalds,  by  profession,  are 
perhaps  necessary  characters  in  the  great  theatre  of  the  world,  and 
may  serve  well  as  the  antidotes  to  parasites  and  sycophants,  but  they 
have  little  claim  to  be  canonized  amongst  philosophers  and  moralists. 

The  following  are,  perhaps,  amongst  the  happiest  of  the  recorded 
sarcasms  uttered  by  this  accredited  scoffer : — 

"  He  often  found  it  necessary  in  life,"  he  said,  "  to  have  ready  an 
answer  or  a  rope." 

He  was  indignant  at  people  for  praying  to  the  gods  for  health,  and 
at  the  same  time  doing  what  they  could  to  destroy  it  by  feasting. 

Calling  out  once,  "  Men,  come  hither ;"  and  numbers  flocking  about 
him,  he  beat  them  all  away  with  a  stick,  saying,  "  I  called  for  men, 
and  not  varlets." 

Dining  one  day  at  a  common  eating-house,  he  saw  Demosthenes 
pass  by,  and  invited  him  in.  Demosthenes  refusing,  "  What,"  said 
Diogenes,  "  should  you  be  ashamed  to  dine  here,  when  your  master 
does  so  every  day  ?" 

"  Against  fortune,"  said  he,  "  we  must  oppose  courage ;  against 
nature,  law ;  against  passion,  reason." 

1  Hieron.  adv.  Jovin. 


252 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Onesicritus. 


Monimus. 


Crates. 


Review  of 
the  Cynical 
doctrines. 


Being  asked,  what  animals  were  most  dangerous  in  the  bite ?  "Of 
wild  animals,"  he  replied,  "  a  detractor;  of  tame,  a  flatterer." 

Seeing  some  women  hanged  upon  an  olive-tree,  "  I  wish,"  remarked 
he,  "  that  all  trees  bore  the  same  fruit !" 

To  one  who  reproached  him  with  living  in  dirty  and  discreditable 
places,  "The  sun,"  replied  he,  "can  shine  upon  kennels,  without 
disparagement  to  himself!" 

Upon  seeing  an  old  woman  painted,  he  observed,  "  If  you  do  this 
to  gratify  the  living,  you  are  mistaken  in  the  effect;  if  it  is  for  the 
dead,  lose  no  time  in  joining  them." 

Among  the  friends  of  Diogenes  are  mentioned  Onesicritus,  Monimus, 
and  Crates ;  the  first  of  these,  however,  did  not  continue  in  the  school 
of  the  Cynics  at  Athens,  but  attended  the  army  of  Alexander  the 
Great  in  his  Indian  expedition.  Monimus  seems  to  have  been  pos- 
sessed with  much  of  the  extravagance  of  his  friend  and  model  Diogenes ; 
and  a  saying  of  his  is  preserved,  which  is  at  once  very  suitable  to  his 
character  as  a  man  of  lively  and  changeful  impressions,  and  veiy 
remarkable  as  containing  the  germ  of  the  Sceptical  system.  It  is 
recorded  to  have  been  his  doctrine,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
reality ;  but  that  all  objects  are  the  conceptions  and  creations  of  our 
own  mind  producing  fantastic  illusions,  or  semblances  of  external 
objects ;  and  that  the  whole  is  but  a  dream  or  show.  Crates  was  a 
philosopher  of  a  very  different  cast,  and  seems  to  have  aimed  at  moral 
instruction  under  the  guise  of  levity  and  petulance.  He  wras  not  at 
all  of  a  saturnine  complexion ;  but  made  it  his  aim  to  give  much 
oblique  reproof,  and  to  qualify  many  salutary  but  offensive  reflections, 
with  the  appearance  of  ridicule  and  humour.  The  real  good  nature 
and  kindness  of  his  purpose  were  duly  appreciated  by  his  fellow- 
citizens  ;  and  whilst  he  was  admired  by  strangers  for  his  festive  wit, 
and  for  the  poignancy  and  vivacity  of  his  sallies,  he  was  frequently 
used  as  an  umpire  by  his  fellow-townsmen  in  their  mercantile  or 
family  disputes ;  and  his  good  sense  and  impartiality  gave  authority 
to  his  verdicts.  He  was  the  last,  and,  with  the  exception,  perhaps, 
of  Antisthenes,  the  most  creditable  teacher  in  the  school  of  derision ; 
and,  indeed,  his  good  sense  and  his  constitutional  vivacity  seem  so 
much  to  have  modified  his  character,  that  if  he  was  a  Cynic  by  system 
and  profession,  he  was  in  practice  such  a  philosopher  as  might  have 
belonged  to  any  age,  and  as  any  school  might  have  been  proud 
to  own. 

Such  was  the  course  of  the  Cynical  school  among  the  Greeks.  Its 
prevailing  characters  were  a  contempt  of  pleasure,  a  disregard  to  the 
distinctions  of  society,  and  an  utter  insensibility  to  decorum. 

With  regard  to  pleasure,  moralists  of  all  sects  have  concurred  in 
admitting,  that  it  is  not,  in  its  vulgar  sense,  to  be  made  an  ultimate 
object  of  pursuit ;  that  first  impressions  are  to  be  distrusted ;  and  that 
mere  prudence  and  self-regard  will  point  out  the  superiority  of  the 
intellectual  and  moral  enjoyments,  over  the  hollow  gratifications  of 


SENECA. — THE  STOICS.  253 

sense ;  and  that  it  is  an  equally  gross  fallacy  in  calculation,  as  it  is  a 
deviation  from  propriety,  to  prefer  a  personal  pleasure  to  a  social  duty. 
But  it  is  surely  a  strange  error  to  suppose  that  pleasure,  as  such,  must 
be  an  object  of  aversion  to  rational  beings.  When  limited  by  prudence 
as  to  ourselves,  and  by  a  proper  regard  to  the  rights  of  society,  a 
gratification  of  our  own  desires,  and  a  sympathy  in  the  enjoyments  of 
others,  are  things  innocent  and  commendable.  Asceticism  and  morti- 
fication, for  the  sake  of  misery  without  any  reference  to  utility,  are  the 
virtues  of  a  misanthropic  disposition  or  of  a  deranged  intellect. 

As  to  the  distinctions  of  society,  the  Cynics  of  antiquity  showed 
much  more  of  spleen  than  sense,  in  their  insolent  disregard  of  them. 
Industry  can  never  be  encouraged  effectually  without  permanent 
security  to  property  ;  nor  can  any  means  be  devised  for  giving  such 
security  which  will  not,  in  the  end,  produce  an  unequal  distribution 
of  wealth.  Differences  in  the  conditions  of  men  are  inevitable,  as 
long  as  there  are'  differences  in  their  capacities,  the  degree  of  exertion 
which  they  employ,  and  the  extent  of  their  industry.  The  accumula- 
tion of  wealth,  and  the  rights  of  inheritance,  cannot  be  prevented  or 
interfered  with,  without  reducing  the  bonus  of  industry,  and  taking 
away  the  stimulants  to  exertion.  Orders  which  are  not  open  to  merit, 
and  privileges  which  benefit  particular  classes  to  the  oppression  of  the 
community,  are  indeed  abuses  which  should  be  removed  wherever 
they  exist ;  but  some  distinction  of  classes  is  inevitable  in  the  course 
of  national  advancement :  abilities  and  services  must  procure  power 
and  consideration,  and  wealth  will  always  command  influence.  The 
Cynics,  who  derided  these  arrangements  in  society,  did  not  so  much 
exhibit  any  magnanimity  of  character,  as  they  exposed  their  ignorance 
and  contracted  views.  In  their  indiscriminate  scoffing  at  what  they 
termed  ambition,  they  little  perceived  how  much  they  injured  the 
cause  of  virtue,  by  repressing  every  spirited  exertion,  by  extinguishing 
the  flame  of  worthy  emulation,  by  deadening  that  enthusiasm  without 
which  nothing  good  and  great  was  ever  accomplished.  Whilst  they 
decried  vanity,  they  rooted  up  at  the  same  time  much  of  that  regard 
for  the  feelings  and  opinions  of  others ;  much  of  that  social  affection, 
which  is  in  some  instances  the  guarantee  of  propriety,  as  it  is  in  others 
the  incentive  to  virtue.  When  Diogenes  trod  upon  Plato's  robe,  and 
exclaimed,  "  I  trample  under  foot  the  pride  of  Plato,"  the  sage's 
reply  to  the  Cynic  seems  not  without  its  justice :  **  True,  but  it  is 
with  the  greater  pride  of  Diogenes." 

In  regard  to  the  insensibility  of  the  Cynics  to  decorum,  several  of 
their  outrages  upon  public  manners  are  enumerated  by  Sextus 
Empiricus;  and,  perhaps,  there  may  be  some  exaggeration  in  the 
descriptions  given  by  this  avowed  enemy  to  them,  and  to  their 
derivative  sect  the  Stoics.  But  other  particulars  in  the  history  of 
the  Cynics,  show  that  they  were  not  slow  or  timid  in  illustrating  by 
their  example  the  doctrines  which  they  promulgated ;  and  if,  as  it  is 
agreed,  it  was  one  of  their  leading  principles,  that  time  and  place 


254 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


could  make  no  difference  in  the  morality  of  actions,  and  that  no  ex- 
pression could  be  improper  which  related  to  transactions  which  were 
proper,1  it  is  easy  to  imagine  what  extravagances  of  conduct  these 
philosophical  caricaturists  may  have  exhibited,  and  in  what  licentious- 
ness of  language  they  may  have  indulged.  These  aliens  and  obtruders 
into  civilized  society,  when  they  treated  shame  as  a  factitious  senti- 
ment, and  decried  modesty  and  self-respect,  showed  a  systematic 
perverseness  which  has  provoked  the  reprehension  of  Cicero  for  its 
profligacy,2  and  the  opposition  even  of  the  licentious  Mandeville, 
from  the  ignorance  which  it  implies  in  the  principles  of  human  nature. 

The  Stoics.  We  proceed,  however,  to  a  history  of  the  scion  school  of  the 
Stoics;  and  we  may  premise,  that  the  characters  of  the  individuals 
belonging  to  it  varied  so  materially  from  one  another,  and  so  materially 
also  influenced  the  doctrines  which  they  promulgated,  that  the  system 
of  the  Stoics,  as  delivered  by  Zeno,  can  scarcely  be  recognised  in  the 
ostentatious  pretensions  and  quibbling  paradoxes  of  Chrysippus;  and 
that  it  requires  something  like  chemical  art  to  detect  any  remnant  of 
the  same  ingredients,  when  the  compound  has  been  filtered  by  the 
good  sense  of  Panastius,  or  sublimed  into  the  gasconade  of  Seneca. 

After  detailing,  therefore,  a  few  particulars  in  the  life  of  Zeno,  we 
shall  subjoin  a  brief  summary  of  the  physical  and  moral  doctrines  of 
the  Stoics,  as  they  appear  to  have  been  expounded  by  him ;  and  shall 
interweave  in  the  narrative  of  his  successors  those  prominent  points 
in  which  they  extended  or  deviated  from  the  notions  of  their  founder. 
Zeno  was  born  at  Citium,  a  town  on  the  coast  of  Cyprus.  His 
father  was  a  merchant,  and  in  his  voyages  to  Athens,  brought  home 
some  of  the  pieces  written  by  the  pupils  of  Socrates.  The  young 
Zeno  was  charmed  with  the  style  of  these  philosophical  productions. 
At  the  age  of  thirty-two  he  visited  Athens,  and  from  that  time 
forwards  devoted  himself  exclusively  to  philosophy.  He  attached 
himself  at  first  to  the  Cynic  Crates,  and  then  for  ten  years  placed  him- 
self under  the  tuition  of  Stilpo.  He  afterwards  listened  to  Xenocrates 

The  Porch,  and  to  Polemo.  After  this  long  course  of  discipline,  he  ventured  to 
open  his  own  school,  and  selected  the  Portico,  a  public  building, 
ornamented  with  the  paintings  of  Polygnotus,  Myco,  and  Pandamus, 
the  brother  of  Phidias.  This  place  was,  it  seems,  before  his  time  one 
of  general  resort,  and  was,  from  these  paintings  and  from  its  statues, 
denominated  the  Painted  Porch ;  but  the  lectures  and  discussions  of 
which  it  became  the  theatre,  soon  imparted  to  it  a  celebrity  sufficient 
to  distinguish  it  from  other  buildings  of  the  same  nature ;  and  the 

1  Non  audiendi  sunt  Cynici,  aut  siqui  fuerunt  Stoici  paene  Cynici,  qui  reprehend- 
unt  et  irrident,  quod  ea,  quse  turpia  re  non  sint,  nominibus  ac  verbis  flagitiosa 
dicamus:  ilia  autem,  quse  turpia  sint,  nominibus   appellemus  suis.     Latrocinari, 
fraudare,  adulterare,  re  turpe  est;  sed  dicitur  non  obsccene  :  liberis  dare  operam, 
re  honestum  est,  nomine  obsccenum :  pluraque  in  earn  sententiam  ab  eisdem  contra 
verecundiam  disputantur. — Off.  1 ,  35. 

2  Cynicorum  vero  ratio  tota  est  ejicienda.     Est  enim  inimica  verecundias  sine 
qua1  nihil  rectum  esse  potest,  nihil  honestum. — Off.  1,  41. 


Zeno. 
B.  c.  362. 


SENECA. THE  STOICS.  255 

followers  of  Zeno  have  been  long  handed  down  in  history,  as  the 
philosophers  of  Tlie  Porch.  The  regularity  of  Zeno's  life,  as  well  as 
the  severity  of  his  doctrines,  and  the  keenness  of  his  logic,  ensured  to 
him  the  respect  and  admiration  of  the  Athenians.  The  keys  of  the 
city  were  delivered  into  his  custody.  A  golden  crown  was  presented 
to  him,  and  a  statue  of  brass  raised  to  his  honour.  Antigonus 
Gonatas,  the  king  of  Macedon,  whenever  he  visited  Athens,  attended 
his  lectures,  and  was  anxious  to  prevail  on  him  to  come  to  the 
Macedonian  court.  Zeno's  fame  seems  to  have  continued  increasing 
to  the  end  of  his  life,  and  in  his  latter  days  excited  the  jealousy,  or  at 
least  incurred  the  reprehension,  of  Epicurus  He  died  at  the  age  of 
ninety-eight,  after  having  presided  many  years  in  the  Porch.  He  was 
tall  in  stature,  thin  in  person,  abstemious,  with  a  countenance  somewhat 
repulsive  and  scowling.  He  wrote  a  work  on  the  Commonweal,  in 
which  he  animadverted  on  the  errors  of  Plato  with  much  acrimony. 
Of  this  work  nothing  remains,  except  some  few  passages  incidentally 
cited  by  ancient  authors. 

The  Stoics  considered  the  present  system  of  the  world  as  wrought  His  doctrines 
out  of  an  original  chaos ;  but  they  distinguished  between  the  rude 
materials  and  the  vivifying  principle.     From  the  materials  they  held 
that  the  different  elements  were  produced  by  the  operation  of  that 
mighty  and  pervading  principle,  which  existed   prior  to   their   pro- 
duction, and  which  will  survive  their  decay.     The  Stoical  masters  system  of 
differed  in  their  account  of  the  process  by  which  the  elements  were  the  world- 
divided  from  one  another.     Zeno  seems  to  have  considered  that  the 
earth  was  separated  by  its  own  gravity  and  adhesion ;  that  the  water 
consisted  of  such  fluid  particles  as  were  not  solid  enough  so  as  to 
conglomerate  into  earth,  and  yet  were  of  too  settled  a  nature  to 
evaporate   altogether  into  air ;    that  the  air  itself  was  produced  by 
exhalation;    and  that  fire  was  produced  from  the  air  by  flashes  or 
coruscations. 

Zeno  seems  to  have  had  a  tolerably  distinct  notion  of  the  universality  centripetal 
of  a  centripetal  force.     He  maintained  that  all  things  which  exist  by  force- 
themselves  are  moved  towards  the  middle  of  the  whole,  and  likewise 
of  the  world  itself,  and  that  there  is  the  same  cause  of  the  rest  of  the 
world  in  infinite  space,  and  of  the  rest  of  the  earth  in  the  world,  in 
the  midst  of  which  it  is  constituted  as  a  point.     It  is  true  that  Zeno 
stated  that  heavy  bodies  are  principally  influenced  by  this  propensity, 
but  he  at  the  same  time  insisted  that  the  lighter  elements,  as  air  and 
fire,  did  in  some  respect  tend  towards  the  centre  of  the  world. 

As  the  Stoics  considered  water  to  be,  in  one  sense,  the  basis  of  all  phenomena 
the  elements,  and  fire  itself  to  be  produced  from  water  after  having  of  Nature, 
been  previously  refined  into  air,  it  is  not  surprising  that  they  defined  the 
sun  to  be  a  self-guiding  or   intelligent  mass  of  fire,  gathered  and 
kindled  originally  and  still  constantly  nourished  by  exhalations  from 
the  great  ocean ;  and  that  they  deemed  the  moon  to  be  nourished  in 
the  like  manner  from  the  exhalations  of  fresh  water.     Thev  traced 


256 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Supreme 
Being. 


the  variations  of  the  seasons  to  the  approach  or  remoteness  of  the  sun. 
The  rainbow  they  considered  as  a  reflection  of  the  sun's  rays  from  a 
humid  cloud. 

The  following  were  the  principal  arguments  advanced  by  the  Stoics, 
in  proof  of  the  existence  of  the  Supreme  Being.1 

If  anything  exists  in  nature  which  it  would  surpass  the  ingenuity, 
the  wisdom,  and  the  capacity  of  man  to  produce,  the  power  which 
did  produce  such  things  must  surpass  the  nature  of  man.  But  man 
could  not  form  and  arrange  the  heavenly  bodies  and  the  mighty 
system  of  the  universe.  The  Being,  therefore,  who  produced  these 
must  be  something  superior  to  human  intelligence  or  power;  and 
what  can  we  term  such  a  superior  Being,  otherwise  than  a  Divinity  ? 

Everything  in  nature  seems  to  admit  of  gradations.  In  the  parts 
of  creation  which  appear  inanimate,  there  are  different  degrees  of 
utility,  of  completeness,  and  of  beauty ;  there  are  greater  or  lesser 
approaches  towards  perfection.  In  the  animated  world  there  are  all 
the  varieties  of  susceptibility ;  rising  from  the  merest  torpor  to  the 
most  exquisite  sensation,  and  to  the  most  lively  and  accurate  instinct. 
But  in  reason,  man  stands  alone ;  and  is  it  to  be  supposed  that  this 
intelligence,  which  in  his  nature  is  coupled  with  a  frame  so  full  of 
impressions  and  infirmities,  should  not  exist  in  some  higher  degree, 
and  be  able  to  exercise  its  operations  in  some  nobler  mould,  in  some 
form  less  fettered  by  incumbrance,  and  less  exposed  to  casualty  ?  It 
is  probable,  surely,  that  man,  high  as  he  stands,  and  far  transcending 
all  mere  animals,  may  yet  be  but  the  lowest  and  most  imperfect  of 
rational  and  intelligent  beings. 

The  universe  is  not  a  confused  mass  of  unconnected  and  isolated 
materials.  It  is  coherent.  It  is  organized.  It  is  a  system.  In 
every  system  there  is  some  pre-eminent  point,  some  spring  of  nourish- 
ment, some  centre  of  vitality,  in  dependence  upon  which  all  the  other 
parts  exercise  their  functions,  and  in  reference  to  which  they  act. 
From  this  all  the  supplies  of  the  machinery  are  drawn,  to  this  they 
all  'seem  to  revert.  In  the  vegetable  kingdom,  the  roots  are  con- 
sidered the  grand  and  primary  organs  ;  in  the  animal,  the  heart  or 
the  brain.  Can  such  an  anomaly  then  be  supposed,  as  that  the 
system  of  the  universe  itself  is  without  a  centre  of  life,  and  motion, 
and  intelligence  ?  Must  it  not  be  inferred,  that  there  is  some 
sovereign  principle  or  sensorium  of  the  universe,  from  the  ocean  of 
whose  beauty  all  the  energies  of  nature  are  derived,  and  into  which, 
after  having  refreshed  every  part  of  the  system  with  their  tides  of 
health  and  beauty,  they  will  eventually  be  reabsorbed  ?  The  Stoics, 
however,  at  the  same  time  that  they  maintained  the  unity  of  the 
pervading  principle,  accommodated  themselves  to  the  prevailing 
Polytheism,  superstitions,  by  adopting  them  in  a  modified  sense.  They  con- 
sidered the  popular  divinities  as  figurative  representations  of  the 
various  powers  of  nature ;  and  all  the  idle  fables  connected  with  the 
1  Cic.  de  Nat.  Deor.  ii.  6,  12,  and  13 ;  7,  38,  45,  and  46. 


SENECA. — THE  STOICS.  257 

vulgar   polytheism    were   resolved    into   allegories,    and    treated   as 
treasures  of  mysterious  wisdom.1 

In  considering  the  moral  doctrine  of  the  Stoics,  it  will  be  only  Morals, 
necessary  to  advert  to  those  peculiarities  by  which  they  were  dis- 
tinguished from  the  other  philosophical  sects  of  antiquity.  In  opposi- 
tion to  the  Epicureans,  instead  of  resolving  reason  into  instinct,  and 
considering  the  pursuit  of  happiness  as  a  quest  of  pleasure  on  a  more 
enlarged  scale,  they  proceeded  to  the  other  extreme,  and  maintained 
that  the  first  impulses  of  nature  are  evidences  of  an  inherent  and 
connatural  self-love.  They  argued  that  the  first  gleams  of  desire,  as 
they  are  directed  to  things  appropriate  and  conducive  to  welfare,  are 
scintillations  of  an  innate  reason  and  prudential  faculty.  Since  the 
natural  desire  of  infants  in  their  earliest  moments  are  directed  to 
things  beneficial,  and  their  aversions  are  calculated  to  guard  them 
from  things  that  would  be  injurious,  this  school  stoutly  maintained 
that  these  particular  affections  imply  a  deliberate  preference  of  what 
is  good  for  the  whole  nature,  and  that  those  movements  which  have 
the  appearance  of  senseless  organic  impulse,  are  the  evolutions  of  an 
inherent  prudence,  and  of  a  native  self-love.  They  argued  further, 
that  the  seminal  principle  of  self-preservation  must  be  the  ground  of 
all  original  appetite  and  aversion,  and  not  any  pursuit  of  pleasure  as 
such,  or  any  declination  from  pain  as  such ;  for  that  pleasure  and  pain 
are  merely  the  result  and  consequences  of  certain  actions ;  now  these 
consequences  cannot  be  anticipated  before  experience,  and  therefore 
cannot  originally,  in  the  first  instance,  be  the  ground  of  the  actions 
themselves.  In  the  inanimate  creation,  where  pleasure  cannot  be 
felt,  there  is  still  some  inherent  principle  which  directs  the  roots  of 
trees  to  feel  their  way  into  appropriate  layers  of  soil  or  moisture,  and 
their  branches  to  shoot  upwards  into  the  congenial  atmosphere.  In 
the  lower  orders  of  animals,  life  and  health  are  preserved  by  some 
salutiferous  influence  of  the  same  kind.  If  in  human  nature  these 
original  motives  to  action  were  mere  animal  propensities  to  the  blind 
quest  of  pleasure,  nature,  which  in  other  instances  is  so  vigilant  and 
conservative,  would  in  the  case  of  man  often  impel  to  injury  and 
destruction.  So  far,  therefore,  from  reason  being  resolved  into  blind 
appetite,  what  is  termed  instinct  in  the  earliest  impulses  of  the  human 
frame  ought  to  be  exalted  into  a  modification  of  reason. 

The  Stoics  further  argued,  that  though  utility  is  a  great  object  of 
desire,  and  a  great  test  of  the  morality  of  actions,  it  is  not  the  only 
consideration  which  impels  to  action ;  that  all  knowledge  is  desirable 
on  its  own  account,  without  reference  to  the  practical  benefits  which  it 
produces  ;  that  the  curiosity  of  children  is  an  indication  of  a  character 
inseparable  from  the  human  mind ;  and  that,  however  disguised  or 
counteracted  by  circumstances,  a  thirst  for  information  and  a  yearning 
after  truth  are  constituent  parts  of  our  nature.  The  gratification  of 
these  intellectual  longings  and  aspirations  was  therefore  held  by  them 

1  Cic.  de  Nat.  Deor.  iii.  24. 
[G.  E.  P.]  S 


258  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

to  be  in  itself  an  ultimate  object  of  desire ;  and  as  we  have  seen,  that 
they  considered  the  appetites  merely  as  modes  of  self-love,  or  expres- 
sions of  the  endeavour  after  perfection,  it  was  in  perfect  consistency 
with  such  principles,  that  they  held  the  virtues,  and  the  acquisitions  of 
science,  to  be  desirable  in  themselves,  without  reference  to  the  benefits 
resulting  from  them  to  the  individual,  or  to  the  community. 

The  great  excellence  of  the  Stoical  morals  consisted  in  the  elevation 
which  they  gave  to  the  sense  of  duty.  When  the  understanding  once 
ascertained  what  was  proper  to  be  done,  the  dictates  of  an  enlightened 
conscience  were,  in  their  estimation,  the  universal  and  invariable  rale 
of  conduct.  Their  moral  rules,  though  they  may  sometimes  sound  as 
if  they  had  a  speculative  cast,  were  all  applied  to,  and  intended  for, 
sound  practical  use.  They  considered  the  conclusions  of  experience 
respecting  the  happiness  of  mankind,  as  the  voice  of  nature  announcing 
the  destinations  and  duties  of  individuals.  No  progress  can  be  made 
towards  the  perfection,  scarcely  any  even  to  the  development,  of  the 
human  faculties,  without  society.  Society,  therefore,  is  the  natural  state 
of  man  ;  the  nature  of  his  body  and  his  mind  as  clearly  indicating,  that 
it  was  intended  by  Providence  that  he  should  live  in  a  social  state,  as 
the  structure  of  other  animals  shows  them  to  be  adapted  to  the  peculiar 
elements  in  which  they  live.  The  faculty  of  reasoning  and  language 
prove  that  man  was  intended  for  intercourse  of  this  kind,  as  clearly  as 
the  construction  of  his  lungs  indicates  that  he  was  calculated  for  the 
atmosphere  which  he  respires.  The  moment  that  the  social  nature  of 
man  is  recognised  by  the  understanding,  the  duties  which  that  condition 
involves  are  implicitly  comprehended  as  matters  of  paramount  import- 
ance. The  process  by  which,  in  general,  the  affections  extend  them- 
selves from  the  individual  to  his  home,  his  country,  and  mankind  at 
large,  is  indeed  somewhat  reversed  in  the  reflective  and  unimpassioned 
system  of  the  Stoics  ;  and  the  pupils  of  that  school  are  taught  rather 
to  know  their  duties,  by  applying  the  conclusions  of  their  reason  to 
their  particular  situation,  than  to  feel  them  by  having  their  sympathies 
gradually  expanded.  But  the  coincidence  between  these  deductions 
of  the  understanding,  and  the  natural  suggestions  of  the  heart,  is 
mutually  illustrative  of  both. 

ideal  perfec-  The  character  which  the  Stoics  have  given  of  a  wise  man  has  been 
i!um°an  the  occasion  of  much  misrepresentation.  It  was  their  aim  to  describe 
character.  such  a  being  as  should  be  a  constant  model  for  the  admirers  of  virtue 
to  mould  their  own  characters  by,  as  far  as  human  infirmities  would 
permit.  So  far  were  the  pupils  of  the  Stoical  school  from  pretending 
that  they  had  attained  such  a  degree  of  perfection  themselves,  that 
they  expressly  declared  that  their  great  masters,  Zeno,  Cleanthes,  and 
Chrysippus,  were  themselves  far  deficient,  and  that  although  worthy  of 
all  veneration,  they  did  not  attain  to  the  ideal  of  human  excellence. 
The  Stoic  masters  in  their  description  of  the  wise  man  have,  as  might 
be  expected,  concurred  in  accumulating  such  qualities  as  tend  to  make 
a  man  at  once  most  independent  and  most  useful  to  others ;  thus 


SENECA. — THE  STOICS.  259 

they  attributed  to  him  an  absolute  command  over  his  passions,  and  a 
rnind  so  well  acquainted  with  the  course  of  nature,  as  not  to  be  sur- 
prised at  its  apparent  deviations  and  irregularities.  There  was  indeed 
some  variation  in  the  notions  of  their  different  masters,  whilst  some 
regarded  independence  of  mind,  and  others  usefulness,  as  the  great 
object  of  pursuit.  Thus  Chrysippus  urged,  that  a  wise  man  ought  to 
apply  himself  to  some  office  in  the  commonwealth,  whilst  Apollodorus 
maintained  that  a  wise  man  ought  to  imitate  the  Cynics.  It  is  a 
striking  proof  of  the  superstition  of  the  Stoics,  that  amongst  the  qualities 
of  their  ideal  character,  they  attributed  to  him  the  spirit  of  prophecy 
and  divination ;  they  held  that  he  must  know  those  signs  which  are 
communicated  by  gods  and  daemons  in  the  relations  of  human  life; 
that  he  must  be  able  to  interpret  dreams,  and  be  versed  in  the  mystery 
of  augury.  They  not  only  held  that  their  wise  man  would  on  adequate 
occasions  willingly  sacrifice  his  life  for  his  country  and  friends,  but 
they  held  that  he  would  destroy  himself  when  subjected  to  the  torture 
of  continued  and  racking  pain,  or  afflicted  by  some  lingering  and 
incurable  disease. 

As  far  as  the  Stoics  endeavoured  to  raise  themselves,  by  the  con 
templation  of  a  perfect  character,  to  something  above  humanity,  their 
design  was  good  and  likely  to  be  beneficial.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
perpetual  contrast  between  these  strange  and  exaggerated  notions, 
associated  as  they  were  with  the  name  of  Stoicism,  was  calculated  to 
estrange  the  pupils  of  that  school  from  the  ordinary  habits  and  feelings 
and  affections  of  society.  Whilst  they  revolved  in  their  imagination 
the  perfections  of  the  wise  man,  they  felt  an  additional  disgust  or  a 
sanctified  pity  for  the  prejudices,  the  errors,  and  the  delusions  of  those 
around  them.  Though  they  expressly  disavowed  the  presumption, 
yet  they  unconsciously  identified  themselves  with  the  model  of  their 
admiration.  When  they  considered  their  imaginary  wise  man  exempt 
from  the  failings  and  infirmities  of  nature,  and  that  in  the  satisfaction 
of  his  own  mind  he  concentrated  all  the  honours  which  power  and 
dignity  seemed  to  bestow,  the  young  aspirants  wTould  often  feel  a 
cynical  aversion  from  the  conflicts  of  life,  and  rest  contested  with  that 
superiority  which  vanity  easily  generates  in  the  fancy.  They  were 
taught  to  consider  their  wise  man  as  a  character  mighty,  elevated,  and 
possessed  of  great  power,  yet  at  the  same  time  void  of  all  pride ;  he 
was  the  only  person  qualified  to  be  a  king  or  magistrate;  and  in 
accordance  with  their  model,  the  conceit  of  their  own  importance  was 
often  disguised  from  others,  and  sometimes  concealed  from  themselves, 
by  the  appearance  of  a  rough  independence  or  a  virtuous  humility. 

But  from  this  general  criticism  on  the  doctrines  of  Zeno,  we  must 
turn  to  pursue  the  history  of  his  school,  and  to  glance  at  the  modifi- 
cations introduced  by  his  successors.     Cleanthes  was  a  native  of  Assus,  cieanthes. 
a  city  in  JSolia.     He  was  originally  a  wrestler,  and   he   preserved    B<  c* 320> 
through  life  that  vigour  and  hardiness  of  frame  which  qualified  him  for 
his  first  profession.     His  povertv  was  extreme ;  and  whilst  attending 

s2 


260  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

the  school  of  Zeno  in  the  daytime,  he  was  compelled  to  work  for  his 
subsistence  during  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  as  a  common  carrier 
and  drawer  of  water.  It  is  related,  that  his  healthy  appearance,  whilst 
he  was  apparently  without  any  means  of  support,  excited  the  attention 
of  the  police ;  and  when  he  was  summoned  to  give  an  account  of  his 
means  of  providing  a  livelihood,  the  gardener  under  whom  he  drew 
water,  and  a  woman  for  whom  he  ground  flour,  came  forward  to  attest 
his  extraordinary  industry.  His  faculties  were  not  quick,  but  his 
application  compensated  for  the  defects  or  peculiarities  of  his  natural 
disposition.  Zeno  admired  him  for  his  zeal  and  perseverance,  and 
instituted  him  his  successor.  He  wrote  fifty-six  volumes,  all  of  which 
are  lost.  But  Cicero  has  noticed  one  of  his  illustrations,  and  Diogenes 
Laertius  and  Stoba?us  have  preserved  a  few  of  his  memorable  sayings. 
The  illustration  given  by  Cicero  is  this :  *'  To  place  in  a  conspicuous 
point  of  view  the  impropriety  of  considering  pleasure  as  the  ultimate 
object  of  pursuit,  and  virtue  as  merely  subservient  and  subsidiary, 
Cleanthes  desired  his  hearers  to  suppose  a  fair  tablet  placed  before 
their  sight,  in  which  pleasure  was  represented  enthroned  in  majesty, 
with  the  virtues  ministering  to  her  as  attendants  upon  her  state, 
whispering  to  her  that  they  were  born  to  do  her  service,  and  that 
their  only  end  and  aim  in  existence  was  to  show  her  honour  by 
waiting  in  her  train,  or  executing  her  commands." 

Chrysippus.  Chrysippus  was  a  native  of  Solis,  a  town  of  Cilicia,  but  early  in  life 
B.  c.  280.  Devoted  himself  to  philosophy,  and,  fixing  his  residence  in  Athens, 
attended  the  school  of  Cleanthes.  He  soon  distinguished  himself  by 
that  logical  subtilty,  and  that  faculty  of  quick  discrimination,  which 
constituted  at  once  the  strength  and  the  foible  of  his  character.  His 
ingenuity  and  address  were  inexhaustible ;  and  as  he  pressed  keenly 
and  without  reserve  upon  the  weak  points  of  his  antagonist's  arguments, 
spoke  without  reference  to  any  system  on  his  own  part,  and  seemed 
regardless  of  everything  except  the  point  immediately  under  discussion, 
he  was  found  to  be  a  most  redoubtable  and  vexatious  disputant,  and 
his  character  stood  high  as  a  leader  in  that  warfare  of  words  in  which 
the  Athenians  so  much  delighted.  To  him  the  stoical  philosophy 
owes  that  store  of  perverse  and  exaggerated  conceits,  with  which  it 
was  embarrassed  and  disfigured.  It  procured  applause  for  Chrysippus, 
and  amazed  the  bystanders,  when  he  advanced  that  all  crimes  were  of 
equal  magnitude,  because  all  were  equally  deviations  from  right ;  or 
maintained  that  the  virtuous  man  alone  was  possessed  of  absolute 
power,  and  was  incapable  of  error.  To  show  his  logical  skill,  he 
adopted  and  insisted  upon  many  of  the  most  absurd  and  revolting  of 
the  Cynical  notions ;  and  we  must  refer  to  Sextus  Empiricus  for  details 
which  may  prove  Chrysippus  to  have  been  a  hardy  controversialist, 
but  which  cannot  impress  any  one  with  a  favourable  opinion  of  him, 
either  as  a  champion  of  good  sense  or  as  a  friend  of  virtue. 


SENECA. — THE  STOICS.  261 

STOICISM   AMONG    THE   ROMANS. 

After  Chrysippus,  Pangetius  and  Posidonius  supported  the  character  Panaetius, 
of  the  Stoical  school,  and  indeed  did  much  to  retrieve  it  from  his  B  °^nf36 
extravagances.     But  the  philosophy  of  Greece  was  naturalized  at  Rome  posidonius, 
by  Cicero.     The  opinions  of  the  Stoics  were  a  favourite  study  of  the  nat.B.  c.  135. 
Roman  lawyers  in  particular ;  and  it  has  been  said,  that  some  of  those 
terse  maxims  of  the  Roman  code,  which  have  been  incorporated  into 
the  general  law  of  Europe,  may  be  traced  as  having  originated  in  that 
school.     By  the  Roman  poets,  too,  the  doctrines  of  Stoicism  were  stoicism 
much  cultivated  ;  and  Lucan  has  condensed  into  a  few  lines  the  lead-  •"J^Kome 
ing  principles  of  the  sect,  when  giving  the  character  of  Cato.1     But 
Seneca,  Epictetus,  and  Antoninus,  are  the  three  principal  names  which 
supported  the  glory  of  Stoicism  under  the  Roman  emperors ;  and  we 
shall  proceed  to  speak  of  their  several  characters  and  merits  somewhat 
compendiously,  since,  considering  the  limits  of  our  general  work,  we 
have  perhaps  already  expatiated  somewhat  too  largely  in  developing 
the  peculiarities  of  stoicism. 

Lucius  Annasus  Seneca  was  born  at  Cordova,  in  the  eighth  year  Seneca, 
before  Christ.  His  father  was  Marcus  Annseus  Seneca,  a  rhetorician  B-  c'  s' 
of  eminence,  some  of  whose  productions  have  come  down  to  us.  His 
mother's  name  was  Helvia.  He  had  two  brothers,  Marcus  Annasus 
Novatus  and  Lucius  Annaeus  Mela.  Seneca  was  of  a  delicate  frame  of 
body,  and  was  during  the  early  period  of  his  life  much  afflicted  with 
ill  health.  He  commenced  his  studies  under  his  father  ;  but  lectures  Education, 
on  the  media  of  proof,  and  on  the  modes  of  awakening  the  passions, 
served  rather  to  stimulate  than  to  satisfy  his  curiosity.  He  was 
anxious  to  inquire  deeper  into  the  nature  of  man,  and  to  learn  what 
could  be  known  about  the  system  of  the  universe.  For  this  purpose 
he  commenced  his  studies  under  Sotio  the  Pythagorean,  a  man  whose 
exemplary  habits  at  once  sanctified  and  illustrated  the  doctrines  which 
he  expounded.  But  the  ardour  of  Seneca's  mind  was  such  as  not  to 
allow  him  to  acquiesce  in  the  system  inculcated  by  Sotio,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  further  research.  He  was  initiated  by  Attains  in  the 
peculiarities  of  the  Stoical  doctrine.  He  studied  the  Peripatetic 
philosophy  under  Papirius  Fabian  ;  and  he  learned,  as  far  as  an 
institution  which  despises  all  learning  can  be  taught,  the  whimsies  of 
the  Cynics  from  Demetrius.  This  latitude  of  inquiry,  and  rejection 
of  exclusive  partialities,  continued  with  Seneca  through  life  ;  and  to 
this  habit  we  may  attribute  the  characteristic  excellences,  as  well  as 
some  of  the  peculiar  blemishes,  of  his  writings.  His  intercourse  with 
Demetrius  ripened  into  intimacy ;  and  in  his  progress  in  the  world, 
when  fortune  had  heaped  honours  upon  him,  the  courtier  and  the 
favourite  did  not  abate  his  esteem  or  his  familiarity  with  the  Cynic. 
But  the  system  of  the  Stoics  was,  upon  the  whole,  the  favourite  with 
Seneca. 

By  his  father's  advice  he  then  mixed  in  the  active  concerns  of  life, 
1  Lib.  ii.  380. 


262 


ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 


His  appear-  and  commenced  his  exertions  as  a  pleader  at  the  bar.  At  Rome,  the 
pursuits  of  a  lawyer  and  of  an  advocate  were  kept  much  more  distinct 
than  they  usually  have  been  in  modern  times.  It  required  the  labour 
of  many  years  to  qualify  a  man  to  practise  as  a  jurist ;  and  the  con- 
tinued and  tedious  comparison  of  texts,  and  cases,  and  precedents,  was 
preliminary  to  the  formation  of  that  character  of  an  authorised  and 
solemn  expositor  of  law,  which  is  most  nearly  expressed  by  the  modern 
term  of  a  chamber-counsel.  A  few  hours'  study,  on  the  contrary,  such 
as  could  give  a  smattering  of  the  terms  of  art,  and  a  sketch  of  the 
general  principles  of  law,  was  all  that  was  thought  necessary  by  the 
ancient  Romans  for  the  qualification  of  an  advocate  or  pleader  at  the 
bar. 

We  are  informed  by  the  unknown  author  of  the  '  Dialogue  on  the 
Causes  of  the  Decline  of  Eloquence,'  that  Seneca  distinguished  himself 
during  the  short  period  whilst  he  practised  at  the  bar,  by  the  weight 
and  pointedness  of  his  remarks ;  but  that  he  was  as  deficient  in  his 
pleadings,  as  he  afterwards  showed  himself  to  be  in  his  writings,  in" 
that  uniform  progression  and  flow  of  thought,  which  is  almost  inse- 
parable from  the  character  of  eloquence.  His  success,  however,  was 
such,  that  he  became  desirous  of  advancing  himself  in  public.  He 

Quaestor.  discharged  the  duties  of  the  qusestorate,  and  became  at  length  a  dis- 
tinguished favourite  in  the  court  of  Claudius.  But  in  consequence  of 
an  imputed  familiarity  with  Julia,  the  daughter  of  Germanicus,  he, 
with  some  others,  fell  into  disgrace,  and  was  banished  to  the  island  of 

Banishment.  Corsica.  His  conduct  during  exile  deserves  to  be  remarked,  as  illus- 
trative of  the  tendency  of  that  philosophy  which  he  advocated  and  pro- 
fessed. In  his  letters  to  his  own  friends,  he  boasts  of  the  opportunities 
now  allowed  him  for  retirement  and  study,  and  makes  an  ostentatious 
display  of  the  means  of  wisdom  and  independence  which  were  afforded 
him  by  solitude  and  retreat ;  he  vaunted  that  his  happiness  was  inde- 
pendent of  external  circumstances,  and  that  a  wise  man  could  find  a 
home  and  a  country  in  any  quarter  of  the  earth.  In  his  letters  to  the 
emperor,  however,  his  submissions  are  abject ;  and  his  solicitations 
for  leave  to  return  are  unqualified,  spiritless,  and  pitiful.  Lord  Boling- 
broke,  in  his  «  Reflections  on  Exile,'  has  adopted  the  spirit  and  the  style 
of  Seneca's  Stoical  letters ;  and  we  know  that  the  magnanimity  of  this 
modem  courtier  and  philosopher  was  on  a  par  with  that  of  his  ancient 
prototype.  Cicero,  on  the  contrary,  though  the  occasion  of  his  banish- 
ment reflected  honour  rather  than  disgrace  upon  his  character,  instead 
of  playing  off  the  idle  jargon  of  words,  or  making  any  hypocritical 
boast,  or  affecting  an  indifference  to  the  regard  and  esteem  of  his 
countrymen,  gave  way  too  much  to  the  painfulness  of  an  exile  which 
was  unjustly  inflicted  upon  him ;  and  indulged  in  expressions  of  sensi- 
bility, which,  however  natural,  and  however  amiable,  have  been  reflected 
upon  as  amongst  the  blemishes  of  his  character.  Cicero,  however, 
with  whatever  frankness  he  may  have  unbosomed  his  own  feelings  of 
weakness  during  exile,  was  recalled  by  the  unsolicited  and  spontaneous 


SENECA. — THE  STOICS.  263 

summons  of  his  own  free  countrymen.  Seneca,  whilst  affecting  to  the 
world  to  pride  himself  in  his  compulsory  seclusion,  procured  a  remis- 
sion of  his  sentence  by  undignified  and  unmanly  entreaties  to  a  tyrant. 
Besides  his  own  direct  submissions,  his  return  is  said  to  have  been 
accelerated  by  the  mediation  of  Agrippina,  the  mother  of  Nero.  After 
his  return,  Seneca  was  engaged  first  as  the  tutor  of  Nero,  and  after-  Tutor  and 
wards  as  his  minister ;  in  both  capacities  he  seems  to  have  deserved  gjjjfer  of 
well  of  his  pupil  and  of  the  Roman  people,  but  in  neither  of. them  did 
his  conduct  escape  obloquy.  As  a  tutor  it  is  said,  that  he  sanctioned 
the  excesses  of  his  pupil ;  whilst,  in  fact,  he  probably  only  modified 
irregularities  which  he  could  not  restrain.  As  a  minister,  he  has  been 
made  responsible  for  several  of  the  outrages  of  his  sovereign ;  though 
he  may,  perhaps,  deserve  the  credit  of  repressing,  rather  than  the 
imputation  of  instigating  such  perversions  of  power.  Certain  it  is, 
that  that  part  of  Nero's  reign  in  which  Seneca  participated  in  the 
administration  of  government,  is  not  marked  by  atrocities  so  numerous 
or  so  intolerable  as  those  which  disgraced  the  latter  part  of  it.  The 
amplitude  of  Seneca's  fortune,  whilst  minister,  is  another  particular 
which  has  been  objected  to  him  by  the  censurers  of  his  character.  But, 
however  inconsistent  it  may  be  with  some  of  his  Stoical  eulogies  upon 
poverty,  and  Cynical  tirades  against  wealth  and  luxury,  the  acquisition 
of  opulence  cannot  be  otherwise  a  reproach  to  him ;  since  extortion, 
or  any  dishonourable  practice,  is  not  imputed  to  him.  Still  less  can 
there  be  any  serious  charge  brought  against  him  from  his  mode  of 
enjoying  his  property.  His  own  personal  habits  are  admitted  to  have 
been  temperate,  and  even  abstemious;  and  if  he  delighted  in  the  ele- 
gance of  his  gardens,  or  gratified  himself  by  the  number  and  extent  of 
his  villas,  such  indulgences  were  suitable  to  his  condition  and  circum- 
stances, though  not  to  his  pretensions  to  austerity ;  and  were  a  rational 
and  creditable  mode  of  enjoyment.  Umbrage,  however,  was  given  to 
Nero,  by  some  particular  in  Seneca's  conduct ;  and  the  tyrant  made 
Piso's  conspiracy  a  pretext  for  the  destruction  of  the  philosopher.  The 
particulars  of  Seneca's  death  are  recorded  with  much  minuteness  by  His  death. 
Tacitus.  That  author  mentions  the  frivolous  circumstances  by  which 
Nero  endeavoured  to  entrap  him  into  an  acknowledgment  of  his  fami- 
liarity with  the  conspirators,  as  well  as  the  dignified  answer  of  Seneca ; 
in  which,  after  explaining  his  own  refusal  to  see  Piso  on  one  occasion, 
as  being  unwell,  and  having  no  reason  to  prefer  another  man's  welfare 
to  his  own,  "  Csesar  himself,"  he  added,  "  knew  that  he  was  not  a  man 
of  compliment,  having  received  more  proofs  of  his  freedom  than  of  his 
flattery."  This  answer  of  Seneca's  was  delivered  to  Nero  in  the  pre- 
sence of  Poppaea  and  Tigellinus,  his  infamous  favourites.  Nero  inquired 
whether  it  could  be  collected  from  Seneca's  manner,  that  he  had  any 
intention  of  suicide.  The  tribune  answered,  that  Seneca  was  so  little 
discomposed  by  his  visit,  that  he  afterwards  continued  a  story  which 
he  happened  to  be  relating  at  the  time.  Nero  sent  him  back,  with 
peremptory  orders  for  Seneca  to  put  himself  to  death.  The  tribune, 


264  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

who  himself  had  been  engaged  in  Piso's  conspiracy,  had  not  resolution 
enough  to  be  the  bearer  of  such  a  message ;  and  therefore  despatched 
one  of  his  officers  with  it.  Seneca,  upon  receiving  the  command,  ex- 
pressed his  desire  to  make  some  alterations  in  his  will ;  but  the  officer 
refusing  to  allow  him  access  to  his  papers,  he  turned  to  his  friends, 
and  told  them,  that,  since  nothing  else  was  left  to  him,  he  could  at 
least  bequeath  to  them  the  picture  of  his  life;  and  intimated  that 
some  of  the  features  of  his  own  character  were  the  best  model  for 
them  on  the  present  occasion.  When  some  of  them  gave  way  to  their 
feelings  of  grief,  he  rebuked  them  for  their  want  of  fortitude,  or  of 
foresight :  "  Where  now,"  said  he,  "  is  our  boasted  philosophy ;  or  of 
what  avail  is  it,  if  it  fails  us  when  the  most  required  ?  We  cannot  any 
of  us  have  been  unaware  of  the  character  of  Nero  :  after  the  murder  of 
his  mother  and  his  brother,  it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  he 
would  spare  his  preceptor."  The  death  of  Seneca  was  a  lingering 
one,  from  the  exhausted  and  the  emaciated  state  of  his  frame.  He 
opened  the  veins  in  his  arms,  in  the  presence  of  his  wife,  and  other 
friends,  and  afterwards  those  in  his  legs.  Finding  this  course  in- 
effectual, he  persuaded  his  wife  to  quit  the  room,  and  procured  a 
draught  of  poison  to  be  administered  to  him.  As  this,  too,  seemed 
to  fail  in  its  influence,  he  desired  to  be  removed  into  a  warm  bath ; 
and,  as  he  entered,  he  sprinkled  those  who  stood  near  him,  saying, 
"  I  offer  this  libation  to  Jupiter  the  deliverer."  His  life-blood  then 
gushed  forth,  and  he  speedily  expired. 

His  works.  Seneca's  works  consist  of  separate  treatises,  on  '  Anger ;'  '  Consola- 
tion ;'  *  Providence ;'  *  Tranquillity  of  Mind ;'  '  Constancy ;'  '  Cle- 
mency;' 'The  Shortness  of  Life;'  'A  Happy  Life;'  'Retirement;' 
*  Benefits;'  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-four  '  Epistles;'  and  of  seven 
books  of  questions  in  '  Natural  Philosophy  and  History.'  As  a  philo- 
sopher, Seneca  is  certainly  not  entitled  to  very  high  respect,  either  for 
the  consistency  or  the  temperateness  of  his  opinions.  His  general 
principles  are  those  of  the  Stoics ;  but  his  fondness  for  display  and 
exaggeration,  makes  him  caricature  even  some  of  their  paradoxes.  He 
thus  maintains,  in  one  place,  that  the  wise  man  of  the  Stoics  is  not  an 
ideal  figment ;  but,  that  it  has  been  realised  in  many  individuals  of  the 
sect,  and  that  it  is  such  a  model,  as  it  is  expected  others  should  attain 
to.  In  another  place  he  proposes  Bion's  insensibility  as  a  model  of 
Stoical  wisdom,  when  after  the  loss  of  his  wife  and  children  in  the 
course  of  a  siege,  he  boasted  that  he  was  consummately  happy,  because 
he  had  escaped  himself:  for  a  wise  man  has  no  concern  about  anything 
else ;  his  own  person  is  the  whole  of  his  property. 

But  Seneca  does  not  scruple  to  adopt  any  notion,  however  incon- 
sistent with  the  leading  principles  of  Stoicism,  if  it  gives  him  an 
opportunity  of  showing  some  of  his  turns  and  niceties  of  diction.  He 
is,  indeed,  to  be  considered  rather  as  a  moral  declaimer,  than  as  a 
philosopher  of  any  sect.  As  a  moralist,  his  theory  inclined  to  the 
asperities  and  singularities  of  Cynicism.  His  love  of  effect,  and  con- 


SENECA. — THE  STOICS.  265 

stant  affectation  of  brilliant  sentences,  naturally  carried  him  to  such  an 
extreme. 

As  a  writer,  Seneca  may  be  commended  for  occasional  felicities ; 
and  as  he  was  always  striving  to  add  wit  to  reason,  and  to  express 
something  weighty  and  solid  in  a  striking  manner,  it  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered, that  he  should  sometimes  have  succeeded.  But  he  is  justly 
termed  the  grand  corrupter  of  Roman  eloquence;  and  his  style,  brilliant 
as  it  is,  is  the  more  dangerous  on  account  of  the  author's  abilities.1  It 
is  a  perpetual  succession  of  efforts ;  and  in  the  range  of  antitheses,  of 
points,  of  figures,  prettinesses  and  exaggerations,  the  reader  finds  him- 
self without  intermission,  amused,  surprised,  dazzled,  baffled,  and 
fatigued.  There  is  no  repose  in  the  composition,  and  thoughts  and 
expressions  which  singly  might  make  some  impression,  are  lost  in  the 
crowd  of  others  which  are  protruded  with  equal  ostentation,  and  with 
the  same  glare.  A  sentiment  which,  in  the  pages  of  Tully,  we  should 
find  reflected  in  one  continued  impression,  as  from  a  clear  mirror,  is 
dealt  out  to  us  in  the  sentences  of  Seneca,  as  from  a  glass  fantastically 
cut  into  a  thousand  spangles. 

Contemporaneous  with  Seneca  flourished  Dio  of  Prusa,  surnamed  DionPruaeus 
Chrysostom.     His  character  is  handed  down  as  that  of  a  severe  and 
unsparing  censurer  of  the  follies  and  vices  of  his  time.     His  speeches 
which  remain  to  us  are  rather  remarkable  for  their  abruptness  and 
affected  importance,  than  for  any  genuine  vigour  or  eloquence. 

Epictetus  was  the  great  ornament  of  the  Stoic  school  during  the  Epictetus, 
reigns  of  Domitian  and  Hadrian.  Born  a  slave,  and  maimed  in  person,  ^^Teif 
he  obtained  his  manumission  by  the  excellence  of  his  conduct;  and 
not  only  instructed  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  by  his  irreproachable 
example  and  illustrious  doctrine,  but  has  edified  succeeding  ages  by 
those  precepts  which  his  pupil  and  admirer  Arrian  collected  into  a 
manual  of  moral  wisdom,  and  illustrated  with  a  commentary.  No 
philosopher  has  surpassed  Epictetus  in  urging  the  claims  of  virtue  to 
independence.  His  maxims  are  terse  and  pregnant  with  sense,  and  his 
exhortations  earnest  and  affectionate.  Though  there  is  much  severity 
of  discipline  recommended,  there  is  no  sternness  in  the  rrjanner  of  the 
teacher.  He  speaks,  perhaps,  with  some  degree  of  injustice  of  the 
world  at  large  ;  and  too  often  describes  virtue  as  necessarily  in  a  state 
of  persecution.  But  no  production  of  any  heathen  writer  is  better 
adapted  than  the  manual  which  is  inscribed  with  the  name  of  Epic- 
tetus, to  summon  virtue  to  a  proper  steadiness  and  reliance  upon  itself, 
or  to  arm  a  wavering  mind  with  resolution  amidst  the  occasional  dis- 
couragements and  untoward  circumstances  of  life. 

Next  in  succession  to  this  illustrious  slave  among  the  ornaments  of  Marcus 
the  Stoic  school,  appears  the  emperor  Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus.     It  lUtoirnus. 
is  unnecessary  here  even  to  glance  at  those  victories  on  the  Euphrates    A- c- 17°- 

1  Quintilian  has  very  justly  sketched  the  character  of  Seneca  (x.  125).  "  Abundat 
dulcibus  vitiis,"  is  one  of  the  terse  and  closely  applicable  strokes  by  which  he  por- 
trays him. 


266  ROMAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

and  on  the  Danube,  by  which  the  philosophic  monarch  protected  the 
boundaries  and  ensured  the  subsequent  tranquillity  of  the  Roman 
empire.  His  reign  forms  part  of  the  happy  period  in  which  the  vast 
extent  of  that  empire  has  been  characterised,  as  having  "  been  governed 
by  absolute  power  under  the  guidance  of  virtue  and  wisdom."  The 
predilection  of  Antoninus  for  the  Stoical  system  displayed  itself  early 
in  his  life.  At  the  age  of  twelve  years  he  commenced  that  discipline 
of  patience  and  self-restraint,  which  in  after-life  enabled  him  to  be  the 
master  of  himself,  whilst  he  was  the  sovereign  of  the  world.  Through- 
out life  his  self-command  was  complete  and  exemplary.  In  his  youth 
he  was  not  a  slave  to  the  fervour  of  his  passions,  nor  was  he  the  play- 
thing of  ambition  in  his  maturer  age.  In  his  palace  he  preserved  the 
strictness  and  system  of  a  general.  In  his  camp  he  composed  a  great 
part  of  those  philosophical  meditations  which  will  immortalize  his 
name.  Even  his  own  favourite  sect  never  carried  him  away  captive 
from  good  sense,  or  led  him  to  indulge  in  their  extravagant  pretensions 
and  paradoxes.  His  character  is  a  bright  example  of  the  best  influence 
of  the  Stoical  tenets,  operating  upon  a  mild  temper  and  amiable  dis- 
position; and  supplying  that  firmness  and  energy  which  are  most 
required  for,  but  are  rarely  found  combined  with  such  a  nature. 


SEXTUS  EMPIRICUS. 

THE  SCEPTICAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

BY 

JAMES  AMIRAUX  JEREMIE,  D.D, 

KEGIUS  PROFESSOR  OF  DIVINITY,   CAMBRIDGE. 


SEXTUS  EMPIRICUS.— THE  SCEPTICAL 
PHILOSOPHY. 

FLOURISHED  circtter  A.  c.  190. 

THE  Sceptical  Philosophy,  as  developed  in  the  writings  of  Sextus 
Empiricus,  forms  one  of  the  most  curious  portions  in  the  history  of 
the  human  mind,  and  it  is  on  this  account  that  we  have  separated  his 
name  from  those  of  the  other  writers  who  flourished  under  the  Anto- 
riini.  To  mark  by  what  process  and  through  what  gradations  an 
entire  deviation  from  the  general  opinions  and  feelings  of  mankind  was 
effected,  is  in  itself  a  study  neither  destitute  of  interest,  nor  unproduc- 
tive of  utility.  But  in  a  work  intended  to  exhibit  in  one  distinct  and 
comprehensive  view  the  rise  and  advancement,  and  multifarious  rela- 
tions of  science,  it  is  peculiarly  necessary  to  describe  the  nature  of  that 
system  which  attempts  to  overthrow  the  fundamental  principles  of 
universal  knowledge.  To  little  purpose  indeed  have  we  laboured  to 
sketch  the  magnificent  structure  which  the  genius  of  ages  has  raised 
and  adorned,  if  it  be  but  an  unsubstantial  fabric,  which  vanishes  at  the 
approach  of  scrutiny. 

The  causes,  from  which  a  tendency  to  perpetual  doubt  was  first  Causes  of 
derived,  have  been  variously  sought,  in  the  affectation  of  superior  pyrrhon)sm- 
acuteness ;  in  the  confusion  of  ill-directed  studies ;  in  the  habit  of 
sophistical  disputation ;  in  the  attractions  of  brilliant  paradox ;  and, 
above  all,  in  the  extreme  difficulty  of  separating  truth  from  falsehood, 
strangely  as  they  are  intermixed  and  scattered  in  a  mass  of  diversified 
opinions.  But  most  commonly  excessive  scepticism  springs,  as  by  a 
kind  of  reaction  from  excessive  dogmatism.  "  If  a  man  will  begin 
with  certainties,  he  shall  end  in  doubts,"  is  an  observation  of  the 
great  reformer  of  learning,  in  his  examination  of  the  different  disorders 
which  have  checked  its  growth  and  perverted  its  application.1  And 
Socrates  has  shown,2  with  that  simplicity  and  clearness  with  which  he 
unfolded  the  most  complicated  operations  of  the  mind,  that,  as  an  un- 
natural aversion  to  mankind  arises  in  general  from  a  detection  of 
treachery  in  those  persons  in  whom  confidence  had  been  reposed,  so  a 
settled  distaste  for  all  reasoning  originates  in  a  discovery  of  unsound- 
ness  in  those  arguments  on  which  reliance  had  been  placed.  It  is  in-  Probable 
deed  impossible  to  consider  that  singular  union  of  ignorance,  presump- 
tion,  and  obstinacy,  which  characterised  the  ancient  dogmatists,  without 

1  Lord  Bacon,  Of  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  book  i.  p.  31. 

2  In  Phadon. 


270  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

feeling  that,  antecedently  to  experience,  it  must  have  been  most  pro- 
bable, that  some  more  candid,  as  well  as  more  intelligent,  reasoner, 
impressed  with  a  sense  of  our  intellectual  weakness,  and  disgusted  with 
unmeaning  propositions, —  however  magisterially  delivered,  and  how- 
ever disguised  under  a  variety  of  pompous  technicalities, — would  at 
length  draw  the  mortifying  contrast  between  the  boundless  extent  of 
science,  and  the  circumscribed  powers  of  our  understanding.  It  might 
also  have  been  expected,  that  his  indignation  would  rise  in  proportion 
as  he  saw  more  fully  the  effects  of  a  system  which  substituted  conjec- 
ture for  experiment  and  authority  for  proof ;  or,  as  he  observed  more 
frequently  the  efforts  of  its  defenders  in  maintaining  the  most  palpable 
absurdities  with  as  much  pertinacity  and  violence,  as  if  they  were 
contending  for  the  most  evident  and  the  most  important  demonstrations. 
It  might  also  have  been  naturally  supposed,  that  the  vivacity  of  im- 
patient genius  might  lead  him,  in  his  zeal  against  learned  despotism, 
to  sacrifice  strong  arguments  indiscriminately  with  weak,  and  to  sink 
from  sober  caution  into  a  morbid  state  of  complete  distrust.  But  it 
could  hardly  have  been  foreseen,  that  a  sect  would  arise,  the  avowed 
object  of  which  would  be  to  evince,  by  a  long  train  of  reasoning,  that 
all  reasoning  is  fallacious,  and  to  establish  as  its  principle,  that  all  the 
principles  of  human  knowledge  are  too  dubious  to  command  the 
slightest  degree  of  assent.  That  one  man  should  be  so  perplexed  by 
cavils,  and  so  confounded  by  difficulties  and  contradictions  crossing 
him  in  all  the  paths  of  literary  or  scientific  research,  as  to  deny  at 
once  the  evidence  of  his  senses,  is  no  extraordinary  circumstance ;  but 
that  a  body  of  men  should  systematically  profess  to  doubt,  and  labour 
to  persuade  others  to  doubt,  whether  truth  be  discovered  or  discover- 
able, must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  striking  phenomena  which 
the  annals  of  philosophy  present. 

Such,  however,  was  that  class  of  philosophers  of  whom  we  shall 
endeavour  succinctly  to  trace  the  rise  and  progress,  and  to  delineate 
the  features  and  character,  in  connexion  with  our  biographical  notice 
of  the  celebrated  disciple  who  has  collected  their  arguments,  and  illus- 
trated their  method. 

History  of  From  the  earliest  ages  of  philosophy  we  may  remark  a  frequent  ex- 
'sm'  pression  of  doubt,  bordering  on  despondency,  in  the  language  of  its 
most  distinguished  followers.1  They  seem  nearly  all,  at  some  time, 
to  have  made  the  melancholy  confession,  that  **  whatever  we  look  upon 
within  the  amplitude  of  heaven  and  earth  is  evidence  of  human  igno- 
rance." To  imagine,  however,  that  such  reflections  materially  influ- 
enced their  opinions  and  pursuits,  is  to  deny  the  tenour  of  their 
general  reasoning.  We  are  far,  therefore,  from  supposing,  what  Huet 
has  laboured  to  prove,2  that  a  system  of  scepticism  existed  in  the  most 
ancient  times  :  his  conclusions  are  drawn  from  a  few  partial  facts,  hastily 
recorded  by  writers  who  were  more  anxious  to  enliven  their  meagre 

1  See  Diog.  Laert.  in  Vit.  Pyrrhon. 

2  Traite"  Philosophique  de  la  Foiblesse  de  1' Esprit  Humain. 


SEXTUS   EMPIRICUS. — THE  PYRRHONISTS.  271 

narratives,  than  to  ascertain  and  deliver  the  truth.  It  cannot  be  denied, 
however,  that  some  philosophers  proceeded  to  considerable  lengths  in 
throwing  doubt  on  the  most  common  maxims ;  and  that  both  the 
minute  controversies  of  the  sophists,  and  the  embarrassing  objections 
of  Socrates,  operated  in  a  powerful  manner  in  unsettling  the  notions  of 
subsequent  inquirers.  Without  reverting  to  remote  periods,  or  renew- 
ing the  details  which  we  have  already  given  of  the  ACADEMIC  sects, 
we  shall  content  ourselves  with  some  observations  on  those  who  are 
strictly  called  the  members  of  the  Sceptic  or  Pyrrhonic  school, 

Pyrrho  was  a  native  of  Elis,  and  flourished  about  the  CXth  Olym-  pvrrh0. 
piad.  Even  from  the  scanty  details  of  his  life  which  have  been  B- c-  34°- 
transmitted  to  us,  we  can  perhaps  trace,  with  a  considerable  degree 
of  probability,  the  source  of  that  entire  scepticism  on  all  points  of 
moral  evidence  and  of  abstract  reasoning,  for  which  he  was  peculiarly 
distinguished.  We  learn,  that  after  having  abandoned  the  study  of 
painting,  to  which  he  had  applied  himself  in  early  youth,  and  having 
devoted  his  time  to  philosophical  pursuits,  he  directed  his  attention 
principally  to  the  works  of  Democritus,  and  received  the  instructions 
of  Anaxarchus,  whom  he  accompanied  in  the  expedition  of  Alexander 
the  Great  into  India,  where  he  conversed  with  the  magi  and  gymno- 
sophists.1 

Now  we  know  that  Democritus  expressed  in  most  positive  terms 
his  opinion  of  the  uncertainty  of  human  knowledge,  and  the  impossi- 
bility of  finding  truth,  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  describing  as  sunk 
in  some  deep  well  ;2  we  know,  too,  that  from  the  school  of  Democritus 
came  Metrodorus  the  Chian,  who  placed  in  the  very  beginning  of  one 
of  his  works  the  maxim,  That  we  are  ignorant  of  all  things,  and  even 
of  the  truth  of  this  very  assertion  ;3  and  that  among  the  disciples  of 
Metrodorus  was  Anaxarchus,  the  tutor  of  Pyrrho.  When  to  these 
circumstances  we  add  the  fact  mentioned  by  Strabo,  that  the  Brach- 
mans,  a  branch  of  the  sect  of  Indian  gymnosophists,  maintained  that 
nothing  was  in  its  nature  good  or  bad,  but  was  only  such  in  appearance,4 
we  possess  some  of  the  principal  points  which,  if  considered  in 
conjunction  with  the  effects  of  natural  disposition,  enable  us  in  a  great 
measure  to  account  for  that  tendency  to  scepticism  in  P)Trrho,  which 
was  no  doubt  increased  and  elicited  by  the  overbearing  arrogance  of 

1  Diog.  Laert.  in  Vit. ;  Aristocl.  ap.  Euseb.  de  Praepar.  Evang.  lib.  xiv.  c.  18  ; 
Lucian,  in  Bis  Accusat. ;  Suid.  in  Hvppcav. 

2  Democritus  (pronunciat)  quasi  in  puteo  quodam  sic  alto  ut  fundus  sit  nullus 
veritatem  jacere  demersam.     Lactant.  Instit.  lib.  iii.  c.  27.     Comp.  Cic.  Academ. 
Quaest. ;  Diog.  Laert.  lib.  ix.  sec.  72. 

3  Cic.  Academ.  Quaest.  lib.  i.     Chius  Metrodorus  initio  libri  qui  est  de  Natura1 : 
Nego,  inquit,  scire  nos,  sciamusne  aliquid,  an  nihil  sciamus  ;  ne  id  ipsum  quidem 
nescire,  aut  scire,  scire  nos  ;  nee  omnino,  sitne  aliquid,  an  nihil  sit.     JSee  also  Diog. 
Laert.  in  Vit.  Anaxarch.  lib.  ix.  sec.  58. 

4  Strab.  lib.  xv.     Sects  of  men  who  professed  universal  doubt,  seem  to  have 
flourished  in  many  other  nations,  e.  g.  the  Hairetis  among  the  Turks,  the  Medab- 
berim  among  the  Arabians,  &c. 


272  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

the  dogmatic  teachers.  When,  however,  his  biographers  proceed  to 
relate,  that  he  adopted  in  practice  those  principles  which  he  defended 
in  theory,  it  is,  we  think,  sufficiently  manifest  that  they  have  mistaken 
for  authentic  anecdotes  the  satirical  inventions  of  his  enemies,  whose 
design  was,  probably,  to  prove  that,  whatever  might  be  the  triumphs 
of  Pyrrhonism  in  the  shade  of  the  schools,  the  slightest  occurrence  in 
real  life  dispelled  the  illusion,  and  left  the  refined  caviller  precisely  in 
the  same  situation  as  vulgar  mortals.1  What,  indeed,  can  be  more 
ridiculously  absurd  than  the  idle  tales  of  Antigonus  Carystius,2  that 
Pyrrho  would  not  stir  a  step  to  avoid  a  chariot  or  a  precipice,  and 
was  frequently  indebted  to  the  kind  assistance  of  the  friends  who 
attended  him,  for  the  preservation  of  his  life  !3  The  honours  which 
were  paid  to  him,  may  be  deemed  a  proof  that  the  tenour  of  his 
conduct  was  not  at  variance  with  the  received  customs  of  society, — 
customs  which  he  considered  as  causing,  by  their  arbitrary  decision, 
the  only  difference  between  right  and  wrong. 

In  conformity  with  existing  prejudices,  he  suffered  himself  to  be 
appointed  one  of  the  priests  of  a  religion,4  the  truth  of  which  his  own 
opinions  must  have  led  him  to  question,  if  not  to  deny.  This  circum- 
stance will,  however,  excite  no  surprise  in  those  who  have  attended  to 
the  peculiar  train  of  thinking,  with  respect  to  the  political  utility  of 
polytheism,  which  pervades  the  writings  of  the  ancient  philosophers, 
and  appears  to  have  produced  the  same  effect  on  the  least  scrupulous 
as  on  the  most  superstitious  sects.  Impressed  with  a  conviction  of 
the  vanity  of  earthly  pursuits,  Pyrrho  is  said  to  have  constantly 
repeated  the  well-known  lines,  in  which  Homer  compares  the  race  of 
men  to  leaves,  "  now  green  in  youth,  now  with'ring  to  the  ground," 
and  from  which  he  probably  passed,  by  an  easy  transition,  to  reflections 
on  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune,  the  fluctuations  of  fashion,  and  the 
mutability  of  opinion.  The  remaining  instances,  intended  to  illustrate 
his  manner  of  life,  which  may  be  found  in  the  ill-connected,  but  enter- 
taining collections  of  Diogenes  Laertius,  are  trivial  and  contradictory  : 
at  one  time  he  is  represented  as  secluding  himself  even  from  his 
nearest  relations,  whilst  at  another  he  is  described  as  joining  his  family 
in  the  management  of  their  domestic  affairs,  and  as  performing  the 
meanest  duties  with  cheerfulness  and  indifference.  From  the  general 
language  of  his  biographers,  however,  we  may  conclude  that  both  the 

1  See  Hume's  Essays,  vol.  ii.  pp.  183-186.     Having  observed,  that  "  the  great 
subverter  of  Pyrrhonism  is  action  and  employment,  and  the  occupations  of  common 
life,"  he  allows,  that  even  the  determinate  Sceptic  will  "  be  the  first  to  join  in  the 
laugh  against  himself,  and  to  confess,  that  all  his  objections  are  mere  amusement, 
and  can  have  no  other  tendency  than  to  show  the  whimsical  condition  of  mankind, 
who  must  act,  and  reason,  and  believe ;  though  they  are  not  able,  by  their  most 
diligent  inquiry,  to  satisfy  themselves  concerning  the  foundation  of  these  operations, 
or  to  remove  the  objections  which  may  be  raised  against  them." 

2  Quoted  by  Diog.  Laert.  in  Vit.  Pyrrhon. 

3  Comp.  La  Mothe  le  Vayer,  De  la  Vertu  des  Payens,  p.  243 ;  Bayle,  Diet.  Hist, 
art.  Pyrrhon.  4  Diog.  Laert.  in  Vit.j  Hesych.  Miles. 


SEXTUS   EMPIRICUS. — THE   PYRRHONISTS.  273 

powers  of  reasoning  which  he  displayed  in  his  discourses,  and  the 
remarkable  composure  which  he  evinced  in  the  midst  of  danger  and 
suffering,  attracted  the  notice  and  commanded  the  respect  not  merely 
of  the  multitude,  but  of  his  philosophical  opponents. 

Of  his  disciples,  scarcely  any  facts  of  importance  are  related ;  the  Disciples  of 
most  eminent  among  them  was  Timon  the  Phliasian,  a  philosopher  ximon' 
who  joined  to  an  indolent  and  unobtrusive  disposition  a  keen  and  sar- 
castic vein  of  humour,  which  manifested  itself  in  numerous  poems, 
dramas,  and  dialogues  against  the  Dogmatists.  Fragments  of  his  chief 
work,  entitled  *  Silli,'  in  which  he  attacked  his  adversaries  with  caustic 
ridicule,  are  found  interspersed  in  many  subsequent  writers.  From 
the  saying  of  a  Peripatetic  philosopher,  that  "  as  the  Scythians  shot 
flying,  so  Timon  gained  disciples  bv  shunning  them," l  we  may  infer 
that  he  was  not  without  followers ;  yet  no  regular  successor  seems  to 
have  transmitted  the  principles  of  the  Pyrrhonic  school,  which,  per- 
haps, by  being  identified  with  the  later  Academics,  was  considered  as 
extinct  in  the  time  of  Cicero.2  It  had  been  renewed,  however,  by 
Ptolemy  the  CyrenaBan ;  and  was  defended  at  Alexandria  about  the 
very  period  when  the  Roman  philosopher  thought  it  no  longer  in 
existence,  by  ^Enesidemus,  who  wrote  eight  books  of  Pyrrhonian 
discourses. 

From  this  last  author,  the  tenets  of  the  Sceptics  were  taught  by  a 
succession  of  masters,  of  whom  little,  but  the  name,  is  recorded,  till 
the  age  of  Sextus  Empiricus,  a  writer  of  considerable  learning  and 
ingenuity,  in  whose  works,  replete  with  a  curious  variety  of  recondite 
knowledge,  which  would  otherwise  have  been  totally  lost,  the  method, 
principles,  and  design  of  his  sect  are  copiously  detailed,  and  syste- 
matically explained.  Of  his  life  scarcely  any  account  is  to  be  found 
in  succeeding  writers,  or  to  be  extracted  by  inferential  reasoning  from 
his  extant  treatises.  Conjectures  have  been  resorted  to  as  substitutes 
for  facts,  and  have  perplexed,  rather  than  informed,  the  historical 
examiner. 

Suidas  identifies   Sextus  Empiricus  with  Sextus  Chaeronensis,3  a  whether  the 
nephew  of  Plutarch,  and  one  of  the   tutors  of  Marcus*  Antoninus.  f™uf 
This  account  is  rejected  by  Salmasius,4  Rualdus,5  Jonsius,6  Casaubon,7  ch^ro- 

nensis  ? 
1  A6yos  yovv  etire?^  'lepcavv/j-ov  riv  TrepnraTTjriKbv   eV  avrov,  us  irapa.   TOIS 


Kal  ol  (pevyovres  To|evoucrt  Kal  ol  8i(*>KovTfS'  6vTW  TU>V  fpi\oa"6<p(av  oi 
5i<&KOVT€s  O-npcaffi  rovs  /u.a07jras,  ot  Se  Qevyovres,  KaBdirep  Kal  6  Tt/iwj/. — Diog. 
Laert.  in  Vit.  Timon.  2  De  Finib.  lib.  ii. 

3  2e|Tos  Xcupcuj/et/s,  a^€\<pi5ovs  Tl\ovrdp^ov,  yeyovws  Kara  Map/coi/  Kvrwvlvov 
r'bv  Kai<rapa  $i\6<To<pos,  /j.aQrjr^]s  'Epo^6rov  TOV  4>iA.aSeA(/>cuotr  i\v  Se  TT?S  Ilvppca- 
vei6v  ayvyris-   KOI  roffovrov  irpbs   TI^S  T$  j8a<nA.e?  ^j/,   &ffT€  Kal  crvvSiKa&iv 

eypa^ev  'HdiKa    Kal    2/ceTTTt/ca  jSijSAi'a    Se/ca.     Menage  thinks  the  words 
'HpoS^rou  roO  4>tAoS6\(/)Oiov  %v  Se  Tlvfipwyedu  aywy^s  and  Kal  S/cew- 
5e/ca  are  interpolations. 

4  In  Not.  ad  Capitolin.  5  In  Plutarch.  Vit.  c.  v. 

6  De  Script.  Hist.  Phil.  lib.  iii.  c.  12. 

7  In  Not.  ad  Capitolin.,  though  he  adopts  a  different  opinion  in  Not.  ad  Diog. 
Laert. 

[G.  R.  P.]  T 


274  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

Kuster,1  Menage,2  and  Fabricius;3  and  defended  by  Hervetus,4  G. 
Vossius,5  and  Huet  in  his  sceptical  treatise  on  '  The  Weakness  of  the 
Human  Mind.'  The  chief  argument  in  its  favour  is  drawn  from  the 
circumstance,  that  the  names  of  both  philosophers,  and  also  that  of 
their  preceptor,  Herodotus,  are  the  same :  to  which  it  is  easy  to  reply, 
that  several  learned  men,  the  two  Zenos  for  instance,  have  borne  the 
same  name,  and  that  this  very  coincidence,  by  perplexing  the  inter- 
preters, may  have  led  them  to  assert  that  one  Herodotus  was  master 
to  both.  And,  not  to  insist  on  the  difference  of  their  sirnames,  the 
rules  of  conduct  which  the  philosophic  emperor  acknowledges  he  had 
received  from  Sextus  Chaeronensis,6  rather  tend  to  confirm  the  opinion 
of  those  commentators  who  infer  from  a  passage,  somewhat  ambi- 
guous, in  Capitolinus,7  that  he  was  a  Stoic,  and  certainly  seem  less 
likely  to  have  formed  the  main  subject  of  a  Sceptic's  instructions. 
Sextus  belonged  to  that  sect  in  medicine  called  Empirics,  who,  judging 
Nature  to  be  incomprehensible,  followed  experience  in  preference  to 
reasoning.8  His  country  is  unknown :  his  works  refute  the  assertion 
of  Suidas,  that  he  was  a  native  of  Libya,9  and  indeed  rather  enable  us 
to  discover  where  he  did  not,  than  where  he  didj  live.  His  age  may 
perhaps  be  referred  to  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Commodus.10 
Works  of  The  extant  works  of  Sextus  consist  of  three  books  of  Pyrrhonic 

Institutes  or  Sketches,  and  ten,  or,  according  to  a  different  arrange- 
ment, eleven  books  against  the  mathematicians,  by  which  word  are 
meant  all  who  profess  any  kind  of  knowledge.  The  former  treatise  is 
designed  to  be  a  summary  of  the  principles,  method,  and  end  of 
Scepticism.  In  pursuance  of  our  plan,  therefore,  we  shall  present 
such  an  outline  of  its  contents  as  may  assist  the  reader  in  forming 
some  idea  of  the  instruments  employed  by  the  ancient  Pyrrhonists, 
Avhen  they  attempted  to  destroy  the  basis  of  reasoning,  and  in  dis- 
covering the  stamina  of  those  modern  systems  which,  in  a  more 
expanded  shape,  have  been  maintained  with  the  most  refined  subtilty 
and  address. 

Sextus  begins  his  '  Institutes  '  by  dividing  the  ancient  philosophers 

1  Ad  Suid.  torn.  iii.  p.  299.  2  In  Observat.  ad  Diog.  Laert.  p.  444. 

3  Biblioth.  Grsec.  torn.  v.  p.  527.  4  In  Prsef.  ad  Sext.  Empiric. 

5  In  Libr.  de  Phil.  p.  99.  6  In  Meditat.  lib.  i.  c.  9. 

7  Audivit  et  Sextum  Chseronensem  Plutarchi  nepotem,  Junium  Rusticum,  Clau- 
dium  Maximum,  et  Cinnam  Catulum,  Stoicos. 

8  Sextus,  indeed,  maintains  that  the  Methodic  sect  in  medicine  was  more  favour- 
able to   Pyrrhonism  than  the  Empirical  (Pyrrh.  Hyp.  lib.  i.),  whence  Marsilius 
Cognatus  contends  that  he  belonged  to  the  former  ;  in  which  opinion  he  is  seconded 
by  D.  Le  Clerc  (Hist.  Med.  part  ii.  p.  378);  but  it  is  justly  observed  by  Fabricius, 
that  the  Sceptics  never  professed  to  follow  their  maxims  in  common  life,  and  there- 
fore not  in  the  practice  of  medicine  (Bibl.  Grgec.  ed.  Harles.  torn.  v.  p.  527). 

9  In  lib.  iii.  sec.  213,  of  his  Pyrrh.  Instit.,  he  contrasts  the  customs  of  his  country 
with  those  of  the  Libyans. 

10  Fabr.  Bibl.  Graec.  torn.  v.  p.  527.     Menage  places  Sextus  Empiricus  about  the 
time  of  Trajan  and  Adrian.    (Obs.  in  Diog.  Laert.  p.  1.)    Brucker  refers  his  age  to 
the  third  century,  in  the  reign  of  the  emperor  Severus.    (Hist.  Grit.  Philos.  p.  636.) 


SEXTUS   EMPIEICUS. — THE   PYRRHONISTS.  275 

into  three  classes :  the  Dogmatists,  such  as  were  the  Peripatetics,  the  Analysis  of 
Epicureans,  and  the  Stoics,  who  asserted  that  they  had  discovered  institutes""0 
truth ;  the  Academics,  who  denied  the  possibility  of  such  a  discovery; 
and  the  Sceptics,  who  neither  asserted  nor  denied,  but  doubted.     He 
then  proceeds  to  explain  the  character  and  arguments  of  the  latter 
sect.     Scepticism  is  defined  to  be,  the  art  of  comparing  in  every  way  Definition  of 
sensibles  and  intelligibles, — the  reports  of  our  senses  and  the  concep-  Scepticism- 
tions  of  our  minds.     The  end  of  this  comparison  is  to  find  as  strong 
reasons  for  the  rejection  as  for  the  admission  of  any  point  whatever. 
The  great  principle  on  which  the  whole  system  is  allowed  to  rest,  is,  Funda- 
that    to   every  proposition  a  contrary  proposition   possessing   equal  ^p{^tal  prin" 
weight  may  be  opposed.     This  maxim,  however,  was  not  laid  down 
as  incontrovertible.    The  Sceptic  perceived  the  inconsistency  of  assert- 
ing that  no  assertion  is  true,  and  therefore  consented  to  doubt  even 
whether  he  doubted.    He  agreed,  moreover,  with  the  mass  of  mankind 
respecting  appearances ;  but  he  hesitated  to  receive  opinions  founded 
on  them,  with  regard  to  the  real  nature  of  things.     His  conduct  was 
consequently  regulated  in  compliance  with  the  state  of  established 
usages  and  institutions.     In  theory,  he  withheld  his  assent  from  the 
most  general  maxims  of  physics  and  of  morals,  because  he  did  not  see 
any  infallible  criterion  by  which  he  could  distinguish  truth  from  false- 
hood ;    in  practice,  he  followed  the  instinct  of  nature,  the  bent  of 
passion,  the  laws  of  society,  and  the  common  rules  of  art  and  science. 
His  speculations,  however,  though  confessedly  not  productive  of  any 
alteration  in  the  employments  of  life,  were  represented  as  leading  to 
results  of  a  most  important  nature.     The  entire  suspension  of  judg-  End  of 
ment  (eiroxn)  induced  by  the  impossibility  of  discerning  reality  from  ^me'S 
illusion,  in  our  internal  thoughts  and  external  impressions,  was  said  to  by  which  it 
beget  a  state  of  perfect  indifference  and  tranquillity,  a  total  freedom  ls  obtamed- 
from  the  fretful  variety  of  cares  and  sorrows  which  agitate  the  human 
breast.     The  Sceptic  pursues  not  with  feverish  anxiety  what  cannot 
be  shown  to  be  really  good ;  he  shuns  not  in  perpetual  alarm  what 
cannot  be  proved  to  be  essentially  evil.     The  process  by  which  this 
mental  imperturbability  (arapa^ia)  was  effected,  is  described  as  entirely 
fortuitous.     As  Apelles,  despairing  to  imitate  the  foam  in  his  cele- 
brated picture  of  a  horse,  flung  against  it  his  sponge,  still  stained  with 
the  different  colours  which  he  used,  and  thus,  by  a  fortunate  accident, 
produced  that  exact  effect  which  the  most  exquisite  skill  was  incapable 
of  accomplishing  :  so  the  Sceptic,  who  had  attempted  the  separation  of 
truth  from   falsehood,  with  a  view  of  releasing  his  mind  from  the 
troubles  which  oppressed  it,  unable  to  attain  this  object,  suffered  his 
judgment  to  remain  suspended  by  the  equal  force  of  contrary  reasons, 
and  through  this  very  suspension  eventually  obtained  that  tranquillity 
which  he  sought  in  vain  from  another  source. 

In  order  to  maintain  this  desirable  indecision,  the  Sceptic  resorted  to  Sceptical 
a  variety  of  methods,  which  were  dexterously  opposed  to  the  several 
arguments  of  the  Dogmatists.     He  endeavoured  to  show,  that  the 

T2 


276  GEEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

evidence  derived  from  our  perceptions  was,  considered  under  every 
Difference  point  of  view,  fallacious.  For,  in  the  first  place,  since  animals,  arising 
aSmXs.  from  different  species  and  in  different  manners,  possess  a  different  con- 
formation of  the  organs  of  sense,  they  cannot  be  affected  in  the  same 
way  by  the  same  external  objects.  But,  as  the  parts  of  the.  material 
world  seem  to  us  of  different  colours,  in  consequence  of  the  jaundice 
or  a  suffusion,  and  of  different  figures,  according  as  we  press  the  sides 
of  the  eye,  or  as  we  view  them  in  convex  or  concave  mirrors ;  so  it  is 
possible  that  animals,  some  of  whom  have  the  eye  red,  some  white, 
some  narrow,  some  oblique,  some  prominent,  some  depressed,  receive 
impressions  from  objects  dissimilar  from  those  which  they  convey  to 
man.  And  the  same  remark  is  equally  applicable  to  the  remaining 
senses.  Even  as  digested  food  becomes  veins,  arteries,  bones,  or 
sinews,  according  to  the  difference  of  the  recipient  parts,  or  as  water, 
when  poured  on  plants,  becomes  bark,  boughs,  or  fruits ;  so  he  con- 
cludes that  objects  are  variously  felt,  according  to  the  constitution  and 
temperament  of  the  animal  creation.  Indeed,  it  must  be  in  conse- 
quence of  the  incongruity  of  their  sensations,  that  the  same  substance 
is  eagerly  desired  by  some,  and  utterly  loathed  by  others  ;  and  that 
what  is  wholesome  to  one  class  is  deadly  to  another.  If,  therefore, 
the  question  be  put  to  the  Sceptic,  whether  hemlock  be  nourishment 
or  poison,  he  will  answer, — that  it  is  the  former  to  quails,  the  latter 
to  men  ;  but  he  will  cautiously  avoid  pronouncing  that  it  is  either  the 
one  or  the  other,  in  the  nature  of  things.  For  man,  being  an  inte- 
rested party,  cannot  be  qualified  to  judge  between  his  own  sensations 
and  those  of  animals,  in  order  to  decide  to  which  the  preference  ought 
justly  to  be  given.  Nor  can  any  demonstration  be  adduced;  for 
though  the  demonstration  be  apparent  to  us,  to  determine  on  that  ac- 
count that  it  is  true,  is  to  assume  the  very  point  which  it  was  meant 
to  prove. 

Diversity  of       The  Sceptic,  having  thus  far  reasoned  to  show  that  man  has  no 
men.  right  to  pretend  that  his  own  perceptions  are  more  correspondent  with 

the  real  nature  of  things  than  those  of  animals  termed  irrational,  is 
willing  to  argue  even  on  the  supposition  that  men  have  the  exclusive 
privilege  of  discerning  truth,  and  to  evince  that  a  suspension  of  judg- 
ment is  even  then  altogether  necessary.  So  various  are  the  corporeal 
frames  and  constitutions  of  mankind,  that  the  same  objects  produce 
different  effects  upon  different  persons,  and  it  is  impossible  to  be  certain 
that  our  particular  apprehension  is  entitled  to  superior  credit.  We 
cannot,  he  will  add,  place  confidence  in  all  men,  for  we  should  thus 
admit  the  most  palpable  contradictions ;  we  cannot  discover,  by  a  re- 
view of  the  universe,  on  what  side  the  majority  of  mankind  in  any 
question  ought  to  be  ranked  ;  and  if  we  are  required  to  follow  a  few, 
we  must  immediately  ask,  who  are  these  few  ?  the  Platonists  will 
refer  us  to  Plato,  the  Epicureans  to  Epicurus ;  and,  amidst  this  con- 
trariety, the  Sceptic  will  rest  in  his  usual  indecision. 

After  having  thus  argued  on  the  concession,  that  men  in  general 


SEXTUS   EMPIRICUS. — THE  PYERHONISTS.  277 

have  the  power  of  judging,  he  will  consent  to  meet  his  adversaries  Diversity  of 
even  by  granting,  that  there  may  be  some  one  individual  on  whom  JJJJJ  manhe 
reliance  might  possibly  be  placed,  and  he  will  merely  ask,  to  which  of 
the  senses  of  this  individual  must  credit  be  attached  ?  For  different 
organs  present  things  in  different  modes.  Painting  sets  forth  to  the 
sight  some  objects  as  standing  out,  others  as  sinking  backwards,  but 
to  the  touch  the  picture  presents  no  inequalities.  Honey,  which  is 
luscious  to  the  palate,  is  offensive  to  the  eye  ;  and  balm,  which  is  de- 
lightful to  the  organs  of  smell,  is  repulsive  to  those  of  taste.  It  is, 
besides,  impossible  to  ascertain,  whether  substances  have  all  the  quali- 
ties which  they  appear  to  possess ;  or  only  one  quality,  which  seems 
different,  owing  to  the  diversity  of  our  senses ;  or  many  more  qualities 
than  our  limited  number  of  senses  is  capable  of  perceiving.  And  if 
our  senses  cannot  comprehend  external  objects,  neither  can  our  intel- 
lectual faculties  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  their  real  nature,  and  sus- 
pension is  again  requisite. 

But  still  the  Sceptic  is  content  to  pursue  the  discussion,  and  to  Different 
grant  to  his  adversary,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  we  can  confide  states  of  tne 

/*  *     i»    •  i      i  •         i-  -Hi      same  senses. 

m  one  sense  of  one  individual ;  yet,  again,  this  one  sense  will  be 
variously  disposed,  according  as  its  possessor  is  young  or  old,  in  health 
or  in  sickness,  asleep  or  awake,  sated  or  hungry,  or,  in  short,  agitated 
by  one  or  more  of  the  numerous  passions,  owing  to  which  the  senses 
give  different  reports,  and  the  understanding  forms  different  deductions. 
All,  therefore,  that  can  be  asserted  of  anything  is,  that  it  appears  to 
us  in  a  certain  manner,  at  a  certain  period  of  life,  and  under  certain 
circumstances ;  but  that  we  know  not  whether  it  be  really  such  in  its 
nature.  For,  continues  the  Sceptic,  by  introducing  one  of  his  favourite 
cavils,  it  cannot  be  proved  that  one  of  these  states  is  preferable  to 
another,  unless  we  have  some  criterion  which  itself  can  only  be  made 
credible  by  a  demonstration.  But  how  can  the  demonstration  be 
judged  to  be  true  but  by  a  criterion  ?  The  demonstration,  therefore, 
will  require  a  criterion  to  confirm  it,  while  the  criterion  requires  a 
demonstration  to  prove  it  true. 

Thus  the  Sceptic  having,  with  an  air  of  triumph,  destroyed  by  his 
alternate  method  both  the  demonstration  and  the  criterion,  by  which 
alone  one  sensation  can  he  shown  to  be  preferable  to  another,  finds  an 
additional  reason  for  his  boasted  suspension.  He  proceeds,  however, 
to  confirm  it  by  several  other  commonplaces.  He  urges  the  dissirni-  Situation  and 
larity  of  objects  in  consequence  of  distance,  place,  and  position :  the 
same  tower  from  afar  seems  round,  from  a  nearer  point  square ;  the 
same  oar  under  water  seems  broken,  above  water  straight ;  the  same 
light  in  the  sunshine  is  dim,  in  darkness  bright ;  the  same  image, 
which  when  laid  flat,  seems  smooth,  when  inclined,  seems  uneven ; 
the  same  feathers  on  the  dove's  neck  assume  various  hues,  according 
as  they  are  variously  turned.1  Now,  since  there  is  nothing  which  is 

1  Compare  Senec.  Nat.  Qusest.  lib.  i.  c.  5,  and  Tertullian,  de  Anim.  c.  17.    The 
arguments  of  the  latter  have  been  sketched  by  Bishop  Kaye,  with  great  perspicuity, 


278  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

not  in  some  position  and  place,  and  at  some  distance,  the  absolute 
nature  of  things  is  undiscoverable,  and  their  appearance  only  can  be 
determined  according  to  these  three  points. 

Mixtures  in        He  derives  another  argument  from  the  mixtures  in  the  objects  which 
which?6!?     Present  themselves  to  our  senses.     The  images  which  proceed  from 
sent  them-     surrounding  objects  reach  us  not  in  a  pure  and  uncompounded  state, 
senses t0the  but  tnev  are  blended  and  modified  by  the  medium  through  which 
they  pass  ;  for  the  same  thing  will  wear  a  different  aspect,  as  the  im- 
pressions take  place  through  a  medium  which  is  warm  or  cold,  dry  or 
moist,  curved  or  straight,  broad  or  narrow, — hence  the  varieties  of 
sounds,  smells,  and  colours.     And  that,  too,  without  mentioning  the 
coats  and  humours  of  the  eye,  through  which  the  images  of  objects, 
with  all  their  external  admixtures,  are  conveyed.     And  as  the  senses 
err,  so  also  will  the  intellect,  which  is  guided  by  them.  err.     Indeed 
it  is  possible,  that  the  intellect  itself  produces  an  alteration  in  what  it 
receives  from  the  senses,  in  consequence  of  the  humours  which  exist  in 
its  material  seat. 

Quantity  and  But,  besides  this,  the  Sceptic  will  urge  the  confusion  which  arises 
fr°m  tfte  quantity  and  constitution  of  the  subject.  For  instance,  the 
shavings  of  goat's  horn  seem  white,  though  the  horn  itself  seems 
black ;  and  filings  of  silver  seem  black,  though  silver  itself  seems 
white ;  grains  of  sand,  which  are  rough  and  uneven,  when  viewed 
singly,  are  smooth  and  plane,  when  viewed  jointly  ;  the  same  medicine, 
which,  in  a  small  quantity,  refreshes  and  heals,  in  a  larger,  oppresses 
and  destroys.  All,  therefore,  that  can  be  asserted  of  an  object  is,  that 
it  appears  in  a  certain  manner,  when  in  a  certain  quantity,  and  in  a 
certain  state  ;  but  not  that  it  is  such  in  its  nature. 

Eelation.  He  will  contend,  moreover,  that  all  things  are  relative : — relative  to 

the  thing  which  judges,  namely,  the  animal,  the  man,  the  sense,  and  the 
state  of  the  sense ;  relative  to  things  seen  with  it,  to  the  composition, 
quantity,  and  position  of  objects ;  relative  also  as  genus  and  species,  as 
like  and  unlike,  as  equal  and  unequal.  And  of  this  relation  alone  can 
we  be  assured. 

Frequency  He  likewise  draws  an  argument  from  frequency  and  rareness  of 
or  rareness  of  occurrence :  comets  attract  more  attention  than  the  sun,  because  seen 

occurrence.     ,/.*,,  ,  1/^1 

less  often  ;  gold  is  more  prized  than  water,  because  more  rarely  found : 
but  let  the  novelty  alter,  and  language  will  alter ;  the  sun  will  be 
more  admired  than  comets,  and  water  more  valued  than  gold ;  so  that 
there  is  no  fixed  measure  by  which  we  can  determine  the  intrinsic 
merit  of  anything. 

Variety  of  But  the  Sceptic  borrows  his  most  powerful  argument  from  the  ac- 
tu«o'nTStl~  knowledged  variety  of  laws,  customs,  institutions,  fabulous  creeds, 
fables,  per-  and  dogmatic  opinions.  By  constantly  opposing  all  these  with  promp- 

in  his  excellent  analysis  of  the  Treatise  De  Anima  (Eceles.  Hist,  of  the  Second  and 
Third  Centuries,  illustrated  from  the  writings  of  Tertullian,  p.  200).  The  reason- 
ing of  the  Sceptic  drawn  from  the  deceptibility  of  the  senses  is  ridiculed  by  Epic- 
tetus.  (Ap.  Arrian,  lib.  ii.  Diss.  c.  20.) 


SEXTUS   EMPIRICUS. — THE   PYKRHONISTS.  279 

titude  and  address,  and  by  showing  them  to  be  repugnant  and  destruc- 
tive one  to  another,  he  learns  to  repeat  with  additional  confidence  the 
necessity  of  a  complete  indecision. 

It  were  unnecessary  to  detail  all  the  other  methods,  however  in-  other 
genious,  which  .Sextos  has  enumerated.     It  is  sufficient  to  observe, 
that  by  their  means  the  Pyrrhonist  was  furnished  with  a  kind   of 
panoply  of  cavils  against  every  species  of  reasoning.     If  an  hypothesis 
was  made,  he  would  counterpoise  it  by  some  contrary  hypothesis;  if  Reduction  ad 
a  proof  was  offered,  he  would  ask  how  the  proof  itself  was  demon-  mfimtum- 
strated ;  and,  if  an  additional  proof  was  given,  he  would  require  this 
additional  proof  to  be  proved,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum. 

But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  such  subtile  definitions  of  terms,  if  all  Observations 
is  equally  uncertain  ?     Why  such  careful  attempts  to  avoid  confusion,  p^^,nfc 
if  all  is  equally  confused  ?     Why  pretend  to  understand  the  systems  Philosophy, 
of  the  Dogmatists,  if  nothing  can  be  understood  ?     Why  determine  contradic- 
that  their  proofs  are  weak,  if  man  is  not  qualified  to  determine  any-  turns, 
thing  ?     Why  style  those  who  mistake  his  object  ignorant,  unless  the 
Sceptic  himself  possess  some  knowledge  of  which  they  are  exempt?1 
How  can  one  hypothesis  be  opposed  to  another,  unless  that  other  be 
comprehended  ?     How  is  it  ascertained  that  contrary  reasons  of  equal 
force  can  be  raised  against  other  reasons,  unless  equality  of  force  can 
be  inferred  ?     And,  if  as  many  and  as  valid  arguments  may  be  urged 
in  favour  of  any  one  proposition  as  against  it,  what  shadow  of  use  can 
all  his  own  reasoning  possess  ?     Might  not  the  Dogmatist  turn  round 
on  the  Sceptic,  and  accuse  him  of  obstinate  dogmatism — of  believing 
everything — of  asserting  everything  ;  and  when  the  disciple  of  Pyrrho 
replied,  "  Nay,  but  I  assert  nothing,  I  believe  nothing  ;"  might  not  the 
same  Dogmatist  exclaim,  "  I  maintain  that  you  are  one  of  my  sect,  and 
to  every  argument  you  may  bring  to  show  the  contrary,  I  will  affirm 
that  a  contrary  argument  of  as  much  weight  may  be  opposed  to  it; 
things  seem  to  me  different  from  what  they  seem  to  you,  and  you  have  no 
right  to  suppose  your  own  senses  are  superior  to  mine  :  nay,  be  not 
indignant,  if  you  attempt  to  give  me  a  proof  that  you  are  not  a  Dog- 
matist, on  your  own  principles  I  will  require  a  proof  of  that  proof,  and 
so  on  without  end." 

Indeed  the  great  body  of  the  Tyrrhenian  philosophy  seems  to  have  Considera- 
depended  on  no  better  assertion  than  the  following :  some  things  are  JJJ?^ton  lts 
false,  therefore,  perhaps,  all  things  are  false;  some  men  differ  in 
opinion,  therefore,  perhaps,  no  man's  opinion  is  correct.  But  the 
Pyrrhonist  urged,  that  the  effects  of  his  system  were  an  unvaried  state 
of  internal  tranquillity.  It  requires  but  little  knowledge  of  human 
nature  to  be  convinced  of  the  falsehood  of  this  assertion.  There  will 
always  be  the  reaction  of  a  natural  propensity  to  belief  against  the 
pressure  of  adopted  doubt,  and  this  struggle  will  necessarily  destroy 
the  mental  equipoise.  The  truth  of  this  fact  is  abundantly  exempli- 
fied in  the  history  of  man  :  Sylla,  Tiberius,  Louis  XI.  of  France,  not 
1  See  the  objections  more  fully  stated  in  Crousaz's  Examen  du  Pyrrhonisme. 


280  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

to  mention  other  instances,  will  prove  that  the  disbeliever  in  religion 
is  often  a  believer  in  divination  and  astrology.  And  even  in  the  works 
of  professed  Sceptics,  in  Sextus  Empiricus,1  in  La  Mothe  le  Vayer, 
in  Huet,'in  Glanvile,  we  discern  an  extreme  facility  in  admitting  re- 
ports, which  would  have  been  rejected  with  pointed  ridicule  by  men 
but  little  inclined  to  indulge  in  unreasonable  doubts.  But  if  perfect 
Scepticism  were  really  attainable,  still  the  conflict  of  our  passions  and 
our  opinions  would  disturb  and  poison  the  sources  of  enjoyment ;  or, 
even  granting  that  the  appearances  of  pain  would  be  then  incapable 
of  inflicting  pain,  the  Sceptic  must  admit,  by  parity  of  reasoning,  that 
the  appearances  of  pleasure  would  be  unable  to  excite  pleasure  ;  and 
if  our  hopes  must  be  sacrificed  with  our  fears,  and  our  joys  with  our 
sorrows — if  all  our  feelings,  in  short,  must  be  deadened  into  a  state  of 
torpid  lethargy,  it  can  hardly  be  supposed  that  the  happiness  of  life 
would  be  eventually  promoted.  Such  are  the  obvious  faults  of  ex- 
cessive Pyrrhonism. 

objections  It  cannot  be  denied,  however,  that  when  the  Sceptic  expatiated  on 
our  tota^  ^g110^1106  °f tne  essence  of  matter,  and  when  he  laboured  to 
prove  that  the  sensible  qualities  of  bodies  are  not  inherent,  but  only 
secondary  and  relative  to  the  perceptions  of  the  mind,  his  arguments 
were  no  less  ingenious  than  forcible  and  just.  It  must  also  be 
remarked,  that  though  he  often  resorted  to  puerile  devices  in  order  to 
elude  the  sober  arguments  of  common  reasoners,  yet  he  sometimes 
stated  objections  to  the  distempered  theories  of  the  Dogmatists,  which 
seem  worthy  of  the  better  Scepticism  introduced  in  after  times  by 
Descartes,  as  a  necessary  preparative  to  philosophical  investigation. 
He  discarded  with  profound  contempt  the  prevalent  practice  of  suffer- 
ing the  mind  to  be  preoccupied  by  hypothesis ;  of  alleging  reasons 
neither  self-evident  nor  demonstrated ;  of  ascribing  to  one  single  cause 
phenomena  which  might  arise  from  several  joint  causes ;  of  attributing 
a  series  of  regular  effects  to  the  operation  of  unconnected  and  unob- 
served causes ;  of  drawing  a  false  analogy  between  the  visible  and  the 
invisible  world  ;  of  offering  explanations  inconsistent  with  their  own 
principles;  and  of  seeking  reasons  for  facts  before  they  were  well 
assured  of  the  facts  themselves. 

Observations       It  would  be  inconsistent  with  our  plan  to  enter  into  a  detailed 

two^BoSof  accoimt°f  tne  last  two  books  of  this  singular  work,  it  will  be  sufficient 

Pyirhonic      to   state   their  general  design.     The  second  book   treats  chiefly  of 

ltes>      dialectics  :  it  is  employed  in  proving,  in  opposition  to  the  opinions  of 

the  logicians,  that  there  is  no  method  by  which  truth  can  be  discovered. 

Sextus  returns  continually  to  his  favourite   objection :  there   is   no 

1  The  works  of  Sextus  teem  with  tales  which  would  hardly  be  equalled  by  the 

anecdotes  of  the  most  credulous :  e.  g.  that  Deinophon  was  cold  in  the  sunshine 

and  warm  in  the  shade  ;  that  the  Tentyrites  in  Egypt  are  not  hurt  by  crocodiles  ; 

that  the  elephant  flies  from  the  ram,  the  lion  from  the  cock,  and  whales  from  the 

crackling  of  bruised  beans,  &c.  (book  i.  c.  13  and  14).    Sir  Thomas  Brown  might 

have  enriched  his  Treatise  on  Vulgar  Errors  by  having  added  Sextus  to  the  writers 

whom  he  consulted. 


SEXTUS   EMPIRICUS. THE   PYRRHONISTS.  281 

criterion,  and  all  demonstration,  by  which  the  existence  of  such  a 
criterion  is  to  be  shown,  requires  itself  another  demonstration,  and  so 
on  for  ever.  We  cannot  trust  our  senses — they  deceive  us ;  we  cannot 
confide  in  advisers — they  differ.  And  here  it  may  be  remarked,  that 
the  cavils  of  Sextus  are  not,  like  the  dexterous  subtilties  of  Bayle, 
adroitly  insinuated  in  some  lively  anecdote,  curiously  wrought  into 
some  brilliant  train  of  reasoning,  and  unexpectedly  introduced  in 
various  historical  articles  which  in  themselves  possess  intense  in- 
terest ;  but  they  are  methodically  and  heavily  brought  out,  with 
tedious  and  insipid  repetition.  He  argues,  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  demonstration,  because  it  would  consist  of  connected 
propositions,  and  this  connexion  can  never  be  proved.  The  Stoic 
objected  with  great  acuteness,  You  must  allow  that  there  may  be 
a  demonstration,  if  you  can,  as  well  as  if  you  cannot,  prove  the 
contrary  :  if  you  cannot,  you  have  no  right  to  deny  it ;  and  if  you 
can,  your  reasoning  is  a  demonstration.  All  the  Sceptic  could  answer 
was,  that  maxims  which  destroy  others  destroyed  themselves  also ; 
that  the  medicine  passed  away  with  the  disease  which  it  removed.1 
He  felt  that  the  maxim,  "  all  is  false,  "  is  self-contradictory ;  for  if 
it  be  true,  all  is  not  false.  Sextus  proceeds  to  attack  syllogisms — a 
mode  of  reasoning  unquestionably  liable  to  objection, — and  after- 
wards produces  the  following  cavil  against  definitions  :  "  Either  you  Definitions, 
know  what  you  are  defining,  before  you  define  it,  or  you  do  not ;  if 
you  do  not,  you  cannot  define ;  if  you  do,  you  need  not :  but,  you  will 
answer,  I  define  for  the  use  of  others  ;  but  if  you  understood  the  point 
without  a  definition,  why  should  not  they  ?"'  As  if  a  definition  were 
not  the  result  of  a  gradual  succession  of  ideas,  linked  together  and 
developed  in  a  manner  useful  to  ourselves  by  the  simplification,  and, 
for  the  same  reason,  still  more  useful  to  others.  He  objects,  that  a 
definition,  in  consequence  of  the  limited  nature  of  our  knowledge,  may 
perhaps  never  embrace  all  the  qualities  of  the  subject;  but  such 
reasoning  would  rather  tend  to  show  it  to  be  incomplete,  than 
dangerously  false.  He  objects  also,  that  wrong  definitions  have  been 
often  given  ;  but  does  it  follow  that  none  are  true  ?  is  it  because  some 
men  have  defined  light  to  be  the  act  of  a  luminous  body,  that  no 
definition  of  light  can  ever  be  given  ? 

After  having  next  examined  the  various  divisions  of  logic,  he  devotes  Existence  of 
his  third  book  to  the  consideration  of  physics,  and  begins  with  its  the  Deity* 
most  important  branch, — the  existence  of  the  Deity — premising,  how- 
ever, that  in  practice  he  conformed  to  the  established  religion,  and 
admitted  the  necessity  of  worshipping  the  gods.  And  it  is  fortunate 
for  the  happiness  of  mankind,  that  the  arguments  by  which  he  en- 
deavours to  contradict  the  voice  of  universal  nature  are  as  feeble  as 
they  are  trite :  they  are  derived  from  the  impossibility  of  comprehend- 
ing his  essence ;  of  forming  any  defined  idea  of  his  substance ;  and 
from  the  diversity  of  opinions  respecting  his  form  and  nature.  And 
1  Sext.  c.  Mathem.;  Aristocl.  ap.  Euseb.;  Diog.  Laert.  lib.  ix.  sec.  76. 


282 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


Puerile 
sophisms. 


Treatise: 
against  the 
Mathema- 
ticians. 


if  we  know  not  his  essence,  says  the  Sceptic,  we  cannot  know  his 
attributes.  As  well  might  he  argue,  that  because  we  are  utterly 
ignorant  of  the  essence  of  matter  and  of  spirit,  that  we  are  therefore 
ignorant  of  their  properties  and  their  operations.  It  cannot  but  excite 
a  smile  to  observe  the  ridiculous  contradictions  into  which  the  habit  of 
cavilling  will  lead  even  men  of  considerable  penetration  :  it  is  impious, 
says  Sextus,  to  believe  in  God,  because  it  is  impious  to  allow,  as  we 
must,  in  consequence  of  such  a  belief,  allow,  that  he  has  either  not 
the  will,  or  not  the  power  to  remedy  existing  evils ;  but  what  is  the 
meaning  of  impiety  ?  is  it  not  want  of  reverence  towards  the  Deity, 
which  is  an  assumption  of  his  existence  ?l  If  there  be  no  Deity,  there 
can  be  no  impiety ;  and  if  there  be,  it  cannot  be  impiety  to  assert  his 
existence. 

But  these  sophisms  are  plausible  in  comparison  with  many  which 
occur  in  other  parts  of  the  work,  and  which  were,  surely,  rather 
intended  as  playful  means  of  tormenting  the  Dogmatists,  than  as  serious 
objections.  For  instance,  his  arguments  against  a  cause:  a  cause 
cannot  be  posterior  to  its  effect,  neither  can  it  be  anterior,  for  it  would 
then  be  a  cause  before  it  produced  an  effect,  that  is,  a  cause  without 
being  a  cause,  since  it  is  a  cause  only,  inasmuch  as  it  produces  an 
effect : — or,  his  arguments  against  motion  :  if  a  thing  be  moved,  it  is 
either  moved  in  the  place  in  which  it  is,  or  in  that  in  which  it  is  not ; 
but  not  in  the  place  in  which  it  is ;  for  if  it  be  in  it,  it  continues  in  it ; 
nor  in  the  place  in  which  it  is  not,  for  where  a  thing  is  not  there  it 
cannot  act  or  be  acted  upon. 

After  having  urged  a  variety  of  cavils  not  very  dissimilar  from  the 
egregious  trifling  which  we  have  just  noted  (and  which  we  should 
have  passed  over  with  the  contempt  it  merits,  were  it  not  calculated 
to  give  a  view  of  ancient  Pyrrhonism),  on  our  notions  of  augmentation, 
diminution,  subtraction,  addition,  generation,  corruption,  place,  time, 
and  number,  Sextus  examines  the  grounds  of  the  ethical  part  of 
philosophy,  and  attempts  to  annihilate  the  essential  difference  between 
right  and  wrong,  by  showing  that  there  is  nothing  in  itself  good,  bad, 
or  indifferent.  His  arguments  are  nearly  the  same  as  those  which 
modern  writers  have  urged  as  disproving  the  existence  of  a  moral 
sense,  and  are  replete  with  a  rich  variety  of  facts,  illustrative  of  the 
customs  of  antiquity,  and  of  the  sentiments  of  pagan  philosophers. 
He  concludes,  by  confessing  that  he  has  employed  reasoning  sometimes 
strong,  and  sometimes  comparatively  weak,  in  order  to  adapt  himself 
to  the  capacities  of  mankind  in  his  attempt  to  check  the  temerity,  and 
to  humble  the  arrogance  of  the  Dogmatists. 

The  treatise  against  the  mathematicians,  or  professors  of  any  kind  of 
knowledge,  is  a  work  of  greater  extent,  containing  a  copious  collection 
of  extracts,  explanatory  of  the  systems  of  the  different  schools  in  every 
branch  of  ancient  literature  and  science.  Objections  are  successively 
directed  against  the  grammarians,  rhetoricians,  geometers,  arithmeti- 
1  See  Crousaz,  Examen  du  Pyrrhonisme. 


SEXTUS   EMPIRICUS. — THE  PYRRHONISTS.  283 

'cians,  astrologers,  musicians,  and  writers  on  physical  and  on  ethical 
subjects. 

The  Pyrrhonic  Institutes  have  been  partially  explained  byM.  Sorbiere 
in  his  « Lettres  et  Discours,'  and  by  Le  Clerc  in  his  *  Bibliotheque 
Ancienne  et  Moderne  (torn.  xiv.  p.  i.),  and  have  been  translated  into 
English  by  Stanley,  in  his  '  History  of  Philosophy.'  The  whole  body 
of  ancient  and  modern  Scepticism  has  been  reviewed  with  considerable 
attention  by  M.  Crousaz  in  his  '  Examen  du  Pyrrhonisme  ;'  a  work  in 
which  the  fallacies  of  perverse  ingenuity  are  refuted  with  that  sound- 
ness of  reasoning  which  results  from  long  discipline  in  habits  of  rigid 
logic  and  accurate  research.  It  is  melancholy,  however,  to  reflect, 
that  a  keen  insinuation,  conveyed  in  one  smart  sentence,  produces  an 
effect  on  the  mind  which  a  folio  of  elaborate  discussion  can  with 
difficulty  remove.  The  lively  versatility  of  Bayle  is  strikingly  contrasted 
by  the  cautious,  and  often  prolix,  and  tedious  method  of  his  more 
exact,  but  less  able,  opponent.  The  paradoxes  of  Sextus  are  more 
easily  detected  and  exposed ;  but  still  the  absence  of  that  spirited 
attack,  which,  neglecting  all  subordinate  errors,  seizes  at  once  on  the 
most  prominent,  and  strips  them  of  their  attractions  with  unrelenting 
severity,  render  his  dissertation,  not  perhaps  less  intrinsically  valuable, 
but  less  interesting  and  less  popular.  The  first  treatise  of  Sextus  was  Editions,  &c. 
translated  by  Henry  Stephens,  and  the  second  by  Gentian  Hervet :  these 
translations  contain  some  inaccuracies,  arising  chiefly  from  an  inadequate 
acquaintance  with  the  peculiarities  of  the  Stoic  dialectics.1  The  best  edi- 
tion of  the  entire  works  of  Sextus  is  undoubtedly  the  following  :  Sexti 
Empirici  '  Opera.  Graece  et  Latine.'  *  Pyrrhoniarum  Institutionum/ 
lib.  iii.  cum  Henrici  Stephani  versione  et  notis.  '  Contra  Mathemati- 
cos,  sive  disciplinarum  Professores,'  lib.  vi.  contra  Philosophos,  lib.  v. 
cum  versione  Gentiani  Herveti.'  Graeca  ex  MSS.  codicibus  castigavit, 
versiones  emendavit  supplevitque,  et  toti  operi  notas  addidit  Io.'  Albert. 
Fabricius,  Lipsiensis,  &c.  Lipsiae,  1718,  fol.  Further  information 
may  be  found  in  Morhoff,  '  Poly  hist.'  torn.  ii.  1.  i.  c.  6  ;  and  in  Fabri- 
cii  *  Bibliotheca  Grasca,'  torn.  v.  p.  527,  ed.  Harles. 

1  Menage,  who  passes  the  highest  praise  on  the  works  of  Sextus,  seems  to  have 
been  inclined  to  comply  with  the  request  of  a  learned  friend,  who  urged  him  to 
write  observations  on  them  :  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  he  was  prevented  from  exe- 
cuting a  task  for  which  his  varied  erudition  rendered  him  eminently  qualified. 
See  his  Obs.  in  Diog.  Laert.  lib.  ix.  sec.  116. 


PLOTINUS. 

THE  ECLECTICS,  OR  LATER  PLATONISTS. 

BY 

JAMES  AMIRAUX  JEKEMIE,  D.D. 

KEGIUS  PROFESSOR  OF  DIVINITY,  CAMBRIDGE. 


THE  ECLECTICS,  OR  LATER  PLATONISTS. 

POTAMO  -         -  FLOURISHED  TOWARDS  THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  SECOND  CENTURY. 

AMMONIUS  SACCAS        _______     DIED  POSTEA  A.  c.  243 

DlONYSIUS  LONGINUS     ---------     DIED   A.  C.    273 

PORPHYRY     -------       BORN  A,  c.  233,  DIED  A.  c.  304 

JAMBLICUS     ---------  DIED  CIRCITER  A.  c.  363 

HlEROCLES       -------        FLOURISHED  CIRCITER  A.  C.    485 

PROCLUS  -      _--_-._-      BORN  A.  c.  412,  DIED  A.  c.  485 


PLOTINUS. 

BORN   A.  C.  205,  DIED    A.  C.  270. 

THE  history  of  ancient  philosophy  may  be  divided  into  the  age  of 
invention  and  the  age  of  illustration:  the  one  gave  birth  to  those 
earlier  speculations,  in  which,  amid  all  their  incompleteness,  the  stamp 
of  original  genius  is  of  too  bold  and  brilliant  a  cast  to  be  mistaken: 
the  other  was  marked  by  general  attempts  to  explain,  to  methodize, 
to  expand,  or  to  modify  existing  theories.  In  this  latter  period  arose 
the  singular  system,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  combination  of 
systems,  which  forms  the  subject  of  the  present  rapid  sketch. 

Dogmatism,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  had  produced,  by  a  Rise  of 
reaction  natural  to  the  human  mind,  its  opposite,  Pyrrhonism.1  But  Ecle' 
the  state  of  universal  doubt  into  which  many  of  the  philosophers,  who 
flourished  in  the  first  ages  of  the  Christian  era,  had  been  thrown,  was 
too  unnatural  to  be  long  held  even  in  theory,  much  less  to  be  practised 
in  the  conduct  of  life.  A  desire,  therefore,  was  soon  felt  to  reject  the 
most  objectionable,  and  to  select  the  most  excellent,  doctrines  of  the 
various  schools,  which  divided  the  philosophic  world  in  general,  and 
Alexandria,  the  seat  of  motley  disputants  of  all  countries  and  characters, 
in  particular.  This  amalgamation  of  dogmas  was  calculated  to  pro- 
mote many  objects.  It  associated  the  traditions  of  the  East  with  the 
method  of  the  Greeks ;  and,  as  a  consequence  of  this  union,2  the  reli- 
gious enthusiasm  with  which  the  Oriental  spirit  was  deeply  imbued, 
infused  itself  into  every  part  of  the  new  philosophy.  Hence  it  dis- 
guised by  allegorical  ingenuity  the  deformities  of  polytheism,  and 
borrowed  many  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  Christian  ethics,  which  were 
gradually  imparting  a  more  elevated  tone  to  the  morals  of  the  time. 
Hence,  too,  it  was  distinguished  by  the  vehemence  with  which, 
breaking  beyond  the  limited  range  of  reason  into  the  mystical  contem- 
plation of  abstract  truths,  it  sought,  in  process  of  time,  supernatural 
aid  from  the  arts  of  theurgy.3  In  this  manner  arose  the  school  com- 

1  See  above,  SEXTUS  EMPIRICUS. 

2  Cousin,  Cours  de  1'Hist.  de  la  Philosoph.  torn.  i.  p.  317. 

3  M.  Degerando  looks  upon  the  school  of  the  new  Platonists  as  dividing  itself 
into  three  branches  :  the  school  of  Rome,  that  of  Alexandria,  that  of  Athens.     In 
the  first,  the  chiefs  are  Plotinus  and  Porphyry ;    in  the  second,  Jamblicus  and 
Hierocles;  in  the  third,  Plutarch  and  Syrianus  :  it  .is  represented  to  us  by  Proclus, 
the  only  one  well  known  to  us.     Ammonias  Saccas  is  the  common  source.     The 
School  of  Rome  has  this  distinctive  character,  that  it  is  essentially  a  philosophical 
eclecticism  ;  that  it  shows  itself  but  little  tinctured  with  Oriental  traditions ;  that 
it  does  not  yet  invoke  the  services  of  the  ancient  mythology.     The  School  of  Alex- 


288 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Potamo. 


Ammonius 
Saccas. 


monly  called  Eclectic?  and  also,  perhaps,  with  more  propriety,  by 
reason  of  its  fundamental  principles,  Neo- Platonic.  Though  experience 
soon  showed  the  difficulty  of  forming  a  consistent  whole  from  materials 
often  discordant ;  and  though  it  naturally  followed,  that  the  diversity 
of  tastes  and  feelings  which  had  occasioned  an  original  difference  of 
views  and  schemes,  would  operate  to  prevent  an  universal  acquiescence 
in  the  propriety  of  subsequent  rejection,  or  selection ;  still  this  strange 
system,  conversant  with  themes  which  exalt  the  mind  beyond  "  this 
dim  spot  which  men  call  earth,"  attractive,  too,  by  its  pantheistic  r>ature 
no  less  than  by  its  spiritual  ecstacies  and  theurgic  pretensions,  exerted 
extraordinary  influence  on  the  course  of  philosophic  opinions. 

Although  the  habit  of  uniting  parts  of  different  philosophical  sys- 
tems may  be  traced  to  much  earlier  times,  and  is  particularly  ob- 
servable in  the  writings  of  Plutarch,  Galen,  and  the  learned  of  a  later 
period,  the  first  who  instituted  the  Eclectic  sect,  at  least  the  first  who 
systematically  introduced  it  into  the  Alexandrian  school,  is  said  to 
have  been  Potamo,  who  appears  to  have  flourished  at  the  close  of  the 
second  century.2  His  works,  one  of  which  was  a  '  Commentary  on 
the  Timasus  of  Plato,'  and  another,  a  treatise  entitled  *  Elementary 
Science,'  are  lost ;  and  the  very  meagre  account  of  Diogenes  Laertius 
is  wholly  insufficient  to  enable  us  to  judge  of  his  method  of  reasoning,3 
which  probably  was  not  attended  with  distinguished  success,  but  it 
appears  not  from  it  that  he  made  Platonism  the  basis  of  his  new 
scheme. 

The  first  philosopher  of  importance  who  attempted  a  regular  com- 
bination of  the  various  elements  of  the  different  schools,  especially  the 
Platonic,  was  Ammonius,  surnamed  Saccas,  who  lived  about  the  com- 
mencement of  the  third  century.  According  to  Porphyry,  he  passed 
from  Christianity,  in  which  he  had  been  educated,  to  paganism: 
according  to  Eusebius  he  was  converted  from  paganism  to  Christianity. 
The  contradiction  may  perhaps  be  correctly  solved  by  supposing  that 

andria,  on  the  contrary,  plunges  deeply  into  mystic  theology :  it  is  a  syncretism  of 
philosophical  and  religious  opinions.  The  School  of  Athens,  he  thinks,  holds  a 
middle  course,  adopting  faith  as  a  sort  of  medium  between  direct  revelation  and 
reason,  and  preferring  to  reascend  to  the  sources  of  Greek  wisdom :  Orpheus  is  its 
hero. — Hist.  Comp.  des  Syst.  Phil.  torn.  iii.  p.  477,  note  m. 

1  Almost  the  only  sect  with  which  the  Alexandrian  school  could  not  coalesce,  was 
the  Epicurean,  which  was  fundamentally  different  from  the  Platonic.     It  shrank 
from  the  contact  of  a  scheme  of  morals  which  would  degrade  and  deaden  the  feelings 
it  was  its  aim  to  infuse,  as  well  as  from  a  system  in  which  man  is  but 

"  the  abandon'd  orphan  of  blind  chance 

Dropp'd  by  wild  atoms  in  disorder'd  dance." 

2  Suidas  places  Potamo  in  the  age  of  Augustus.     But  Diogenes  Laertius,  who 
wrote  in  the  beginning  of  the  third  century,  says  that  Potamo  founded  the  Eclectic 
sect,  irpl)  6\iyov,  "  a  little  before."    Degerando  thinks  it  probable  that  the  Potamo 
mentioned  by  Porphyry  is  a  different  person. — Hist.  Comp.  des  Syst.  Phil.  torn.  iii. 
p.  151. 

3  See,  however,  Diderot,  (Euvres,  torn.  ii.  pt.  i.  p.  402.     See  also  Glaechner, 
Dissert,  de  Potamon.  Alexandrini  Philosophia.     Leips.  1745,  in  4to. 


PLOTINUS. — THE  LATER  PLATONISTS.  289 

the  latter  alludes  to  another  Ammonias,  who  wrote  a  Harmony  of  the 
Gospels.  From  a  fragment  of  Hierocles,  preserved  by  Photius, 
it  appears  that  Ammonius  Saccas,  disgusted  with  the  scandal  brought 
upon  philosophy  by  the  acrimonious  disputes  which  existed  among 
the  Platonists,  Aristotelians,  and  others,  and  which  had  even  led  them 
to  corrupt  the  writings  of  their  great  masters,  attempted,  by  the  rejec- 
tion of  certain  superfluous  parts,  to  demonstrate  that,  in  the  main, 
the  doctrines  of  Plato  were  in  harmony  with  those  of  Aristotle.  He 
had  some  eminent  disciples,  in  which  number  are  reckoned  Herennius, 
Origen,  Longinus,  and  Plotinus. 

Of  Herennius,  nothing  is  known.     Origen  is,  probably,  not  the  same  Herennius. 
who  acquired  so  distinguished  a  name  in  ecclesiastical  history. 

Dionysius  Longinus,1  a  native  of  Emesa,  in  Syria,  is  known  to  pos-  Longinus. 
terity,  not  in  consequence  of  his  philosophical  opinions,  of  which  we 
have  scarcely  any  extant  memorials,  but  through  his  celebrated  work 
'On  the  Sublime;'  which,  occasionally  fired  with  all  the  enthusiasm 
which  the  finished  models  of  better  days  would  naturally  excite  in  a 
high  and  noble  spirit,  continues  to  charm  and  to  instruct  the  great 
educated  mass,  while  the  barren  speculations  of  his  Platonic  contem- 
porary who  refused  to  concede  to  him  the  title  of  philosopher,2  are 
confined  to  the  closets  of  a  few  learned  and  meditative  men. 

His  private  history,  too,  is  of  a  nature  which  interests  our  common 
feelings  in  a  high  degree.  After  having  studied  under  the  most 
distinguished  masters,  and  visited  the  most  noted  seats  of  literature, 
and  acquired  so  extensive  a  fame  by  the  profundity  of  his  erudition, 
as  to  be  called  the  Living  Library,  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  fury  of  the  A.  D.  273. 
Roman  soldiery,  at  the  downfal,  and,  perhaps,  by  the  ingratitude,  of 
Zenobia,  Queen  of  Palmyra,  whom  he  had  assisted  by  his  instructions 
and  defended  by  his  counsels.  From  the  slight  shreds  still  remaining 
of  his  philosophical  works,  it  is  gratifying  to  perceive  that  he  rejected 
the  sophistical  hypotheses,  which  had  transferred  the  properties  of 
matter  to  the  operations  of  spirit,  and  had  resolved  all  mental  pheno- 
mena into  the  effects  of  mere  mechanical  action. 

But,  undoubtedly,  in  philosophical  history,  the  most  celebrated  fol-  Plotinus, 
lower  of  Ammonius  was  Plotinus,  from  whom,  as  having  completed 
the  Eclectic  system,  that  school  afterwards  took  its  name.     He  was 
born  at  Lycopolis,  in  Egypt,3  in  the  year  205.     His  family  is  not 
known,  and  the  events  of  his  early  life  are  involved  in  obscurity. 

1  Called  Cassius  Longinus  in  Phot.  Lex.  v.  2ep<£oi.  See  also  Suid.  v.  Aoyyivos. 
In  a  recent  treatise,  entitled  Remarks  on  the  supposed  Dionysius  Longinus,  the 
author  attempts  to  show  that  the  work  On  the  Sublime  was  written  in  the  Augustan 
Age.  z  ^i\6\oyos  pey  6  Aoyyivos,  <pi\6ffo(})os  5e  ov8a/j.£>s. 

3  Eunap.  in  Plotin.  Plotinus  himself  would  not  tell  the  place  of  his  birth  or  his 
family.  On  the  same  principle — contempt  for  his  body — he  refused  to  have  his 
picture  painted.  "  As  if,  forsooth,  it  were  not  enough,"  he  said  to  Amelius,  "  to 
carry  the  image  in  which  Nature  has  enclosed  us  ;  you  think  we  should  transmit 
to  posterity,  as  a  sight  worthy  of  its  attention,  the  image  of  an  image  !"  And  from 
the  same  cause,  perhaps,  he  observed  great  abstemiousness,  avoiding  the  flesh  even 
of  tame  animals,  and  abstaining  from  baths. — Porphyr.  in  Plotin. 

[G.  K.  P.]  U 


290  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

After  having  finished  his  grammatical  studies  at  Alexandria,  in  his 
twenty-eighth  year,  he  felt  anxious  to  attend  philosophical  lectures,  but 
the  mixture  of  collateral  knowledge  on  literary  subjects,  which  entered 
into  their  composition,  dissatisfied  and  saddened  his  mind,  which 
yearned  for  pure  metaphysical  speculations.  The  method  of  Ammonius 
was  far  more  congenial  to  his  turn  for  mysticism ;  and  the  instant  he 
heard  that  philosopher,  he  declared  that  he  was  the  man  whom  he 
sought,  and  he  continued  to  receive  his  instructions  eleven  years.  The 
praises  which  this  preceptor  had  lavished  on  the  transcendental 
wisdom  of  the  Magi  and  Brahmins,  filled  him  with  an  ardent  desire 
of  visiting  the  East ;  and  he  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  of 
gratifying  it  which  was  presented  by  the  expedition  of  Gordian  against 
A.D.  243.  the  Persians.  But,  in  consequence  of  the  disastrous  death  of  that 
emperor,  he  was  forced  to  save  himself  by  flight  to  Antioch,  whence 
he  proceeded  to  Rome.  Here  he  observed  for  some  time  the  secrecy 
which  Ammonius  had  enjoined  respecting  the  esoteric  portion  of  his 
lessons ;  but,  on  learning  that  it  had  been  violated  by  his  fellow-pupils, 
Herennius  and  Origen,  he  considered  himself  released  from  all  scruples 
on  the  subject.  His  lectures,  during  ten  years,  were  only  orally 
delivered ;  but  afterwards  he  committed  parts  of  his  precepts  to  writing, 
and  communicated  them  to  persons  whose  judgment  he  respected.  At 
length  the  accession  of  Porphyry  to  the  number  of  his  disciples, 
induced  him  to  write  some  works,  in  order  to  explain  with  greater 
accuracy  the  difficulties  which  occasionally  arose.  During  the  six 
years  that  Porphory  studied  under  him,  he  wrote  four-and-twenty 
books ;  before  that  disciple's  arrival,  he  composed  twenty-one ;  and 
after  his  departure,  nine.  The  different  ages  at  which  they  were 
written  have  been,  perhaps  fancifully,  marked  bf  the  different  style  of 
these  several  parts — before  it  reached,  when  it  fully  possessed,  and 
after  it  had  passed  its  mature  strength.  His  mind  was  trained  to  the 
difficult  task  of  going  through  the  plan  or  composition  of  a  whole  work 
with  so  much  accuracy,  that  his  sentences,  when  delivered,  required 
no  alteration,  and  casual  interruptions  were  not  known  to  disturb  the 
thread  of  his  meditations.  To  the  badness  of  his  handwriting,  the 
incorrectness  of  his  orthography,  and  more  especially  the  neglect  of 
revision  on  his  part,  may,  perhaps,  be  ascribed  in  some  degree  the  con- 
fusion which  is  still  complained  of  in  his  works,  notwithstanding  the 
corrections  of  Porphyry. 

Though  the  lectures  of  Plotinus  were  of  too  abstruse  a  nature  to  become 
very  popular,  they  were  attended  by  Romans  of  senatorian  rank,  and 
proved  sufficiently  powerful  to  induce  some  to  resign  their  magisterial 
duties  in  order  to  indulge  in  a  philosophic  life.  So  deep  was  the 
respect  which  was  entertained  for  his  integrity,  that  numerous  lawsuits 
were  referred  to  his  arbitration,  and  many  persons  on  their  deathbeds 
intrusted  him  with  the  guardianship  of  their  children.  The  emperor 
Gallienus  and  the  empress  Salonina  paid  him  marked  regard  ;  and  it  is 
attributed  to  the  opposition  of  malevolent  courtiers,  that  he  was 
unsuccessful  in  his  plan  to  have  a  city  in  Campania  rebuilt,  to  be 


PLOTINUS. — THE   LATER   PLATONISTS.  291 

peopled  by  philosophers,  and  governed  by  the  laws  of  Plato's  ideal  His  intended 
commonwealth.  Various  illnesses  and  infirmities,  occasioned,  perhaps,  or^hTioso?18' 
by  his  neglect  of  his  health,  filled  with  pain  his  latter  days.     When  pi»cai 
he  felt  his  end  drawing  nigh,  he  said,  in  the  language  of  his  philosophy,  co 
"  I  strive  to  return  the  divine  principle  within  me  to  the  Divine  Being 
who  animates  the  universe."     He  died  in  the  year  270,  in  his  sixty- 
sixth  year.1 

Longinus  acknowledged  that  he  could  not  understand  many  of  the 
subjects  treated  of  by  Plotinus,  but  that  he  loved  beyond  measure  and 
venerated  his  manner  of  writing,  the  variety  of  his  knowledge,  and  the 
philosophical  arrangement  of  his  questions.2  His  mind,  naturally 
ardent  and  enthusiastic,  appears  to  have  been  deeply  tinged  with 
fanaticism  ;  and  his  ecstatic  contemplations,  or  pretended  visions  of 
the  Supreme  Being,  bear  a  resemblance  to  the  wild  extravagances  of 
modern  mystics.  To  express  the  most  profound  contempt  for  the  cor- 
poreal prison  in  which  the  soul,  an  emanation  from  the  Divine  nature, 
is  confined,  and  to  aspire  by  a  high  degree  of  mental  elevation  and 
illumination  to  an  union  with  the  God  who  fills  the  universe,  seems 
not  to  have  been  entirely  peculiar  to  the  later  Platonists.  "  In  all 
ages,"  as  Locke  remarks,  "  men,  in  whom  melancholy  has  mixed  with 
devotion,  or  whose  conceit  of  themselves  has  raised  them  into  an 
opinion  of  a  greater  familiarity  with  God,  and  a  nearer  admittance  to 
His  favour  than  is  afforded  to  others,  have  often  flattered  themselves 
with  a  persuasion  of  an  immediate  intercourse  with  the  Deity,  and 
frequent  communications  from  the  Divine  Spirit."3 

The    Plotinian    school    was   propagated   by   many   eminent  men.  Succession  of 
Amelius  (whose  true  .name  was  Gentilianus),  a  Tuscan,  in  the  year  sc1hooi?tmian 
246,  embraced  the  principles,  and  drew  up  in  writing  some  of  the  in-  Amelias, 
structions  of  Plotinus.     One  of  the  books  which  he  wrote  was  to  show 
the  difference  between  the  doctrine  of  Numenius  and  that  of  Plotinus, 
in   answer   to   the  accusation  brought  against  the  latter  of  having 
borrowed  from  the  former.     But  the  most  distinguished  of  its  members  Porphyry, 
was  Porphyry4  (or  in  Syrian,  Malchus),  a  Tyrian,  born  in  the  year 

1  4>TJcras  Tretpatrflat    rb    ev    rj/juv    Qslov    avdyeiv   irpbs   rb    ev   T$   iravTi  Qtiov. 
(Porphyr.  Vit.  Plotin.)     The  Life  of  Plotinus,  by  Porphyry,  gives  an  account  of 
his  familiar  spirit,  and  represents  him  as  possessed  of  miraculous  powers.  See  Bayle, 
Diet.  Hist. 

2  Ap.  Porphyr.  Vit.  Plotin.     The  only  Latin  translation  of  Plotinus  is  that  of 
Marsil.  Ficinus.     The  first  Greek  and  Latin  edition  is  that  of  P.  Perna,  1580.     A 
complete  critical  edition  of  his  works,  which  is  much  wanted,  has  been  undertaken 
by  the  learned  Fred.  Creuzer,  professor  at  Heidelburg,  who  has  already  published 
an  edition  of  the  book  De  Pulchro,  with  a  revised  translation,  notes,  and  a  com- 
mentary. 

3  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding,  book  iv.  c.  19. 

4  St.  Jerome  calls  him  Bataneotes.     "  Ce  mot  a  fort  tourmente  les  interpretes. 
S'agit-il  de  Be'ten  ou  Basan  en  Palestine,  comme  le  suppose  Baronius  ?     Faut-il 
voir  dans  Batane'ote  une  alteration  de  Bt0uj/iwT7js,  Bithynien ;   ou  de  Btoflavaros, 
sce'le'rat ;    ou  de   BaA.avectJTTjs,   curieux,   affaire' ;     ou   de   BoTcwajimjs,   mangeur 
d'herbes,  selon  le  regime  de  Pythagore,  ou  bien  1' equivalent  de  nouveau  Battus,  et 

u2 


292  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

233,  in  the  reign  of  Alexander  Severus.  His  early  education  was  first 
directed  by  a  Christian  preceptor,  Origen,  and  afterwards  in  Athens  by 
Longinus,  to  which  latter  philosopher  we  may,  perhaps,  in  a  great 
measure,  ascribe  the  elegance  of  his  style,  the  extent  of  his  learning,1 
and  his  adoption  of  the  opinions  of  Plotinus,  of  whom  we  find  him  a 
disciple  in  Rome,  about  his  thirtieth  year.  His  attainments  recom- 
mended him  to  the  especial  favour  of  his  master,  whose  tenets  he 
defended  and  explained,  and  whose  writings  he  revised  and  corrected. 
The  morbid  turn  of  mind,  in  which  he  indulged,  may  be  inferred  from 
the  circumstance  which  he  relates,  that  Plotinus  deterred  him  from  a 
resolution  which  he  had  taken,  in  his  thirty-sixth  year,  of  releasing 
himself  from  the  burthen  of  life.  After  the  death  of  Plotinus,  Porphyry, 
who  had  passed  from  Rome  to  Sicily,  appeared  as  one  of  the  most 
determined  and  formidable  enemies  of  Christianity,  against  which  he 
wrote  fifteen  different  treatises,  of  which,  as  they  were  destroyed  by 
the  Emperor  Theodosius,  we  have  extant  only  such  fragments  as 
remain  in  ecclesiastical  writers.  He  was  attacked  with  great  zeal, 
particularly  by  Methodius,  Apollinaris,  and  Eusebius.  On  his  return 
to  Rome,  Porphyry  publicly  taught  the  tenets  of  his  master,  and 
pretended  to  have  received  Divine  communications,  with  a  confidence 
which  is  only  to  be  ascribed  to  enthusiastical  illusion,  not  unaccom- 
panied, perhaps,  with  imposture.  He  died  about  the  year  304,  towards 
the  end  of  Dioclesian's  reign.* 

d'expression  de  la  battologie,  de  la  prolixite  reproche'e  quelque-fois  i  Porphyre  ? 
Ni  cette  derniere  hypothese,  proposee  par  Gundling,  ni  les  pre'ce'dentes  imagine'es 
par  Sirmond,  Holstenius,  Tannegui  Lefebvre,  Heumann,  &c.,  ne  nous  semblent  assez 
plausibles ;  et  nous  trouverions  une  explication  plus  immediate  du  terme  employe 
par  Saint  Jerome,  dans  ce  qui  dit  Etienne  de  Bysance,  d'un  bourg  de  Syrie,  appele' 
Batanea,  et  peuple  d'une  colone'e  Tyrienne  ;  il  se  pourroit  que,  ne  en  ce  lieu,  Por- 
phyre eut  pris,  pour  se  rehausser,  ce  nom  de  Tyrien,  et  que  Saint  Jerome  1'eut 
replace'  dans  son  bourg  natal. — Biog.  Univ.  Art.  Porphyre. 

1  His  learning  was  acknowledged.      "  Doctissimus  philosophorum  Porphyrius, 
quamvis  Christianorum  acerrimus  inimicus." — S.  August,  de  Civ.  Dei,  xix.  22  ; 
Comp.  Euseb.  Praep.  Evang.  V.  14,  &c. 

2  The  life  of  Porphyry  was  written  by  Eunapius,  and,  in  modem  times,  by  Lucas 
Holstenius,  in  his  edition  of  Porphyry's  Life  of  Pythagoras.     Of  the  works  of  Por- 
phyry, many  of  which  are  lost,  his  treatise  De  AbstinentiS.  ab  Esu  Animalium  ;  De 
Vita  Pythagorae ;    Sententise  ad  Intelligibilia  ducentes ;    De  Antro  Nympharum, 
with  a  fragment,  De  Styge,  found  in  Stobaeus,  were  printed  at  Cambridge  in  1655, 
8vo,  with  a  Latin  version.     The  Life  of  Pythagoras,  of  which  the  beginning  and 
end  are  wanting,  was  published  under  the  name  of  Malchus,  by  Conrad  Ritter- 
shusius,  in  1610,  by  J.  Donatus  in  1629,  and  by  Lucas  Holstenius  in  1630.     It 
was  afterwards  published  by  Kuster,  at  Amsterdam,  in  1707,  and  also  by  M.  Theoph. 
Keissling,  together  with  that  written  by  Jamblicus.     The  treatise  On  Abstinence 
from  the  Flesh  of  Animals,  is  one  of  the  best  works  of  Porphyry :   he  endeavours 
to  prove  that  animal  food  is  to  be  avoided,  at  least  by  those  who  aspire  to  a  perfect 
life,  as  soliciting  too  strongly  the  senses ;   he  treats  of  the  origin  and  object  of  sacri- 
fices, to  answer  the  objection  drawn  from  the  immolation  of  animals  ;  he  maintains 
that  animals  are  gifted  with  reason,  and  entitled  to  the  same  justice  which  is  exer- 
cised by  men  one  to  another ;  and,  lastly,  he  collects  authorities,  drawn  from  the 
examples  of  persons  and  nations  famed  for  wisdom,  in  favour  of  his  reasoning,  and 
concludes  by  an  exhortation  to  purity.     (See  the  Abbe  Ricard,  (Euvres  Morales  de 


PLOTINUS. — THE  LATER  PLATONISTS.  293 

The  most  distinguished  disciple  of  Porphyry  was  Jamblicus,  of  jambiicus. 
Chalcis,  in  Ccelo-Syria.  He  taught1  the  Plotinian  theories,  if  with  less 
eloquence  and  learning,  with  even  greater  celebrity  and  success.  Not 
content  with  the  aim  of  his  enthusiastic  predecessor  to  elevate  the 
mind  to  an  ecstatic  intuition  of  the  Divinity,  he  laid  claim  to  theurgic 
powers,  pretending  by  certain  forms  and  ceremonies  to  call  down  and 
command  the  assistance  of  supernatural  beings.  The  fame  of  his 
miracles  was  so  great,  that  he  acquired  the  name  of  wonderful  and 
divine  teacher.  His  character  seems  to  us  more  liable  to  the  charge 
of  studied  imposture  than  of  overheated  fanaticism.  But  we  are  aware 
how  unsafe  it  is  to  judge  by  the  cold  rules  of  ordinary  life  the  conduct 
of  such  men  as  are  born  with  intensely  ardent  imaginations,  and  with 
a  sensibility  more  tremblingly  alive  to  the  varied  impulses  of  nature, 
and,  it  may  be,  not  untinged  with  hypochondriacal  gloom. 

His  writings,  though  they  evince  much  reading  and  throw  light  on  the 
Alexandrian  school,  are  destitute  of  clearness,  method,  and  originality.8 

Plutarque,  torn.  xiii. ;  Schoell,  Hist,  de  la  Litterature  Grecque,  torn,  v.)  The  best 
edition  is  that  of  J.  de  Rhoeur  (Utrecht,  1767,  in  4to).  It  has  been  joined  in  one 
volume  to  the  edition  of  the  work,  On  the  Cave  of  the  Nymphs,  which  had  been 
published  in  1765  by  R.  M.  Van  Goens.  The  Researches,  or  Questions  respecting 
Homer  ('O/xTj/Ji/ca  £rjT^uaTa),  which  belonged  to  a  large  work  on  the  Iliad,  were  pub- 
lished by  J.  Lascaris,  at  Rome,  in  1518  ;  by  And.  d'Asola,  in  1521 ;  by  J.  Bedout, 
in  1539;  and  are  to  be  found  in  the  editions  of  Homer  by  J.  Camerarius  and 
Micyllns  (Basle,  1541,  1543,  and  1551),  and  J.  Barnes  (Cambridge,  1714).  His 
work,  On  Prosody,  was  published  by  Villoison  (Anecdota  Graeca,  vol.  ii.  p.  103). 
The  piece  Ilept  rrjs  e/c  Koy'uav  fyiKoffotyias,  On  Philosophy  according  to  the  Oracles, 
and  his  Letter  to  Marcella,  his  wife,  were  first  published  by  M.  Ang.  Maius  (Milan, 
1816,  in  8vo),  and  have  been  reprinted,  with  critical  remarks,  in  the  Gnomic  Col- 
lection of  J.  C.  Orelli,  vol.  i.  See  also  some  remarks  on  the  Letter  to  Marcella,  by 
Raoul-Rochette,  in  the  Journal  des  Savans,  Avril,  1817.  For  an  account  of  his 
other  extant  works,  and  his  treatise  on  the  Categories  of  Aristotle,  &c.,  see  Fabricius, 
Hist.  Graec. ;  Schoell,  De  la  Litt.  Grecq.  torn.  v. ;  and  his  Life  by  M.  Daunou,  in 
the  Biog.  Univ.  torn.  xxxv. 

1  His  first  teacher  had  been  Anatolius,  who  presided  in  a  Peripatetic  school  at 
Alexandria.     There  is  a  fragment  of  Anatolius  still  extant,  entitled,  Of  Sympathies 
and  Antipathies,  which  was  published  with  the  version  and  notes  of  J.  Rendtorf,  by 
Fabricius,  in  the  old  edition  of  his  Biblioth.  Graec.  torn.  iv.  p.  295. 

2  There  is  no  entire  collection  of  the  works  of  Jamblicus.     His  Life  of  Pytha- 
goras was  edited  by  Theoph.  Kiessling  (Leips.  1813,  2  vols.  8vo).     The  piece  Flepl 
Koivfjs  /j.adr][ji.aTiKTJs  eTrttTT^/iTjs,  which  contains  fragments  of  the  old  Pythagorean 
philosophers,  was  first  published  by  Villoisou,  in  his  Anecdota  Graeca,  vol.  ii.  p.  188, 
and  reprinted  by  J.  G.  Firis.     (Copenhagen,  1790,  in  4to.)     His  commentary,  On 
Nicomachus's  Institutes  of  Arithmetic,  was  published  by  Sam.  Tennulius,  in  1667 
and  1668  (2  vols.  4to).     The  curious  work,  To  ®eo\oyovfj.fva  TY)S  A/nfl/rjjTiKrJy, 
was  printed  at  Paris,  in  1543,  4to,  by  Christ.  Wechel,  and  at  Leipzig  in  1817, 
8vo,  with  notes,  by  Fr.  Ast.     The  treatise  on  the  Mysteries  of  the  Egyptians,  which 
is,  under  the  name  of  Abammon  Magister,  ascribed  to  Jamblicus,  was  edited  by  Th. 
Gale,  Oxford,  1678,  fol.    Christ.  Meiners  thinks  it  is  not  a  work  of  Jamblicus.     It 
was  composed  in  order  to  solve  the  difficulties  proposed  by  Porphyry  in  his  Letter 
to  the  Egyptian  Anebo.    ("  Judicium  de  libro  qui  de  Mysteriis  ./Egypt,  inscribitur," 
in  Comm.  Soc.  Scient.  Getting,  torn,  iv.)     His  arguments  are  answered  by  Tenne- 
mann.     Stobaeus  has  preserved  a  fragment  of  the  work  of  Jamblicus  On  the  Soul, 
and  also  several  parts  of  his  Letters. 


294 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


Under  Con- 


Under 
Juhan. 


Eusebius  of 
Myndus, 

'c' 


Euna  ius 
Hierocies. 


School  at 
Athens. 


Plutarch,  son 
of  Nestorius. 
Synanus. 


Though  the  time  and  place  of  the  death  of  Jamblicus  are  not  known, 
it  probably  preceded  that  of  Constantine,  and  may  have  taken  place 
about  the  year  363. 

The  Neo-Platonic  school,  though  widely  spread,  naturally  suffered 
a  considerable  diminution  of  influence  from  the  ascendency  which 
Christianity  had  gained  over  the  declining  cause  of  paganism  during 
the  reign  of  Constantine  and  Constantius.  But  on  the  accession  of 
Julian,  himself  an  enthusiastic  philosopher  and  patron  of  philosophers, 
an(j  tjie  consequent  restoration  of  the  ancient  superstitions  which  it  had 
attempted  by  various  allegoircal  refinements  to  preserve,  it  resumed 
its  importance,  and  exercised  with  renewed  lustre  the  magical  powers 
to  which  it  presumptuously  laid  claim.  Though  Eusebius  of  Myndus 
strove  to  restore  only  the  Platonic  intuitive  contemplation  of  intel- 
ligibles,  jEdesius  of  Cappadocia,  and  others,  made  numerous  and  suc- 
cessful experiments  on  the  credulity  of  their  followers.  Maximus, 
Priscus,  and  Chrysanthius  swell  the  list  of  philosophers,  to  whom  the 
zealous  Emperor  extended  his  favour  or  his  reverence. 

Eunapius  of  Sardis,  in  the  reign  of  Theodosius,  recorded  in  his 
(  Lives,'1  still  extant,  the  extravagances  of  a  school,  to  which  he  was 
blindly  devoted  ;  and,  towards  the  close  of  the  fifth  century,  Hierocles,2 
the  advocate  of  Eclecticism,  maintained  in  his  treatise  '  On  Providence,' 
that  the  sentiments  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  were  reconcilable,  and 
followed  the  same  method  in  his  *  Commentaries  on  the  Golden  Verses 
of  Pythagoras.'3 

Although  Alexandria,  where  Pythagorico-Platonic  notions  found 
warm  admirers,  was  the  cradle  of  the  Eclectic  school,  it  was  also 
established  at  Athens,  in  which  ancient  seat  of  learning  the  chair  of 
philosophy  was  supported,  at  first,  by  imperial,  and  afterwards  by 
private,  liberality.  There  Plutarch,  the  son  of  Nestorius,  and  after 
him  Syrianus,  the  author  of  a  '  Commentary  on  Aristotle's  Metaphysics,' 
an(^  «  Qn  fae  Rhetoric  of  Hermogenes,'4  still  remaining,  propagated  the 
Alexandrian  system. 

1  See  the  edition  of  his  works  by  M.  Boissonade,  1807. 

2  This  is  not  the  Hierocles  of  Bithynia,  who  wrote  a  work  against  Christianity, 
which  was  refuted  by  Eusebius. 

3  The  first  edition  of  the  complete  works  of  Hierocles  was  published  in  Greek  and 
Latin,  by  John  Pearson,  London,  1654  and  1655,  in  2  parts,  small  8vo.     The  first 
contains   the    Golden   Verses,   the    Commentary,   and   the   work    called   Facetiae 
(A(TT€?a)  ;    the  second,  the  abridgment  of  the  work   On  Providence,  with  the 
extract  of  Photius,  and  the  fragments  preserved  by  Stobaeus,  together  with  the 
version  of  Curterius;    and  the  notes  of  Sylburg,    Lilius   Gyraldus,   and   Merio 
Casaubon.     The  second  edition  is  that  of  P.  Needham,  Cambridge,  1709,  in  8vo. 
Rich.  Warren  published,  at  London,  in  1742,  a  critical  edition  of  the  Commentaiy 
only.     For  further  information,   see  Schoell,  Hist,  de  la  Litt.  Grecq.  torn.  vii. 
p.  99. 

4  The  Greek  text  of  the  Commentary  on  Aristotle  has  not  yet  been  published. 
Jerome  Bagotini  has  published  the  Latin  translation  of  the  part  which  relates  to 
books  iii.  xiii.  and  xiv.,  Venice,  1558,  4to.     The  Commentary  on  Hermogenes  may 
be  found  in  the  Aldine  edition  of  the  Greek  rhetoricians. 


PLOTINUS.  —  THE   LATER   PLATONISTS.  295 

Proclus,  a  favourite  disciple  of  the  latter  philosopher,  holds  a  con-  Procius. 
spicuous  place  in  the  new  school.  He  was  born  in  the  year  412  at 
Constantinople,  though,  as  his  parents  had  inhabited  Xanthus  in  Lycia, 
where  he  received  the  first  elements  of  his  knowledge,  he  is  often 
called  a  Lycian.  After  having  studied  at  Alexandria,  and  having 
learned  from  Olympiodorus1  to  blend  together  the  Aristotelian  and 
Platonic  doctrines,  he  visited  Athens,  where,  by  the  successive  instruc- 
tions of  Plutarch,  the  son  of  Nestorius,  and  of  Syrianus2  he  was  in- 
troduced into  the  mysteries  of  their  philosophy.  So  rapid  was  the 
progress  which  he  made  in  these  obscure  pursuits,  that  at  the  age  of 
twenty-eight  he  had  composed,  besides  other  pieces,  his  best  work,  a 
*  Commentary3  on  the  Timasus  of  Plato.'4  The  skill  which  he  acquired 
in  the  theurgic  art,  as  well  as  in  the  mysterious  science  of  his  school, 
pointed  him  out  as  worthy  of  filling  the  office  of  public  professor.  His 
lectures,  full  of  dark  mysticism,  harmonized  well  with  the  taste  of  the 
age,  and  won  him  many  followers.  His  very  credulous,  or  very  in- 
ventive, biographer  and  successor  Marinus,5  relates  that  he  prepared 
himself  by  abstinence  from  animal  food,  by  long  fastings  and  repeated 
prayers,  for  immediate  intercourse  with  the  Divine  Being,  and  that  he 
possessed  the  power  of  expelling  diseases,  and  of  commanding  the 
elements.  Proclus  died  of  the  gout  in  the  year  485. 

His  works,6  a  strange  mass  of  varied  fanaticism,  discover  marks  of  a 
rich,  but  unchecked,  fancy,  and  extensive,  but  misapplied,  learning. 

Marinus  chose  as  his  successor  Isidorus,  who  soon  after  removed  to  Marinus. 
Alexandria,  and  left  the  Platonic  chair  at  Athens  to  Zenodotus.  The  Isido™s- 
succession  of  the  school  at  Athens  ended  with  Damascius  of  Syria, 
who  suffered  from  the  persecution  of  the  Emperor  Justinian.  His 
'  Lives  of  Isidorus  and  others,'  and  some  fragments  of  his  philosophy, 
still  remain. 

1  This  is  not  the  Olympiodorus  who  wrote  commentaries  on  four  dialogues  of 
Plato,  —  the  First  Alcibiades,  the  Phsedo,  the  Gorgias,  and  the  Philebus. 

2  The  following  modest  epitaph  is  a  testimony  of  the  affection  which  Proclus  felt 
for  his  master  Syrianus  :  — 


tos 
ojucu/S&j/  €7)5  Bptye 


8e 

Mar.  Vit.  Prod.  36,  p.  29,  ed.  Boisson. 

3  As  this  Commentary  does  not  extend  to  the  whole  of  the  Timseus,  it  may  be, 
perhaps,  incomplete.     It  contains  the  work  of  Timaeus  the  Locrian. 

4  See  an  account  of  the  life  of  Proclus,  and  an  interesting  notice  of  a  manuscript 
containing  some  of  his  unpublished  works  by  M.  de  Burigny,  in  Hist,  de  I'Acade'm. 
des  Inscrip.  torn.  i.  p.  139-153. 

5  The  work  of  Marinus  was  published  by  Fabricius   (Hamburgh,  1700,  4to), 
and  afterwards  subjoined  to  the  Biblioth.  Latin.  1703,  8vo.     The  best  edition  is 
that  of  Boissonade.  (Leips.  1814,  in  8vo.) 

6  For  an  account  of  the  editions  of  the  various  works  of  Proclus,  see  Schoell,  Lit. 
Grecq.  torn.  vii.     M.  V.  Cousin  has  published  some  of  his  works,  hitherto  unedited. 
Some  of  the  works  of  Proclus  have  been  translated  into  English  by  Mr.  Thomas 
Taylor,  an  enthusiastic  Platonist. 


296 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


Hypatia.  One  of  the  Alexandrian  philosophers  was  Hypatia,  the  celebrated 

daughter  of  the  able  mathematician  Theon.  Her  acquirements,  both 
in  literature  and  in  science,  were  so  remarkable  as  to  qualify  her  in  an 
eminent  degree  to  become  a  public  preceptress  in  the  Plotinian  School. 
In  this  capacity  she  undertook  to  reconcile  Plato  and  Aristotle  with  an 
eloquence  which  flowed  from  a  highly-cultivated  genius,  and  which 
was  regulated  by  a  sober  judgment.  While  the  gracefulness  of  her 
address  and  lustre  of  her  personal  attractions  were  unobscured  by 
vanity,  the  purity  of  her  character  continued  untainted  by  suspicion. 
Among  the  crowd  who  enjoyed  her  acquaintance,  and  admired  her 
talents  and  virtues,  was  Orestes,  the  Praefect  of  Alexandria,  who  had 
opposed  the  measures  and  incurred  the  enmity  of  Cyril,  who  rilled  the 
A.D.  415.  patriarchal  chair  in  that  city.  Orestes,  insulted  by  a  body  of  seditious 
monks,  had  put  one  of  their  leaders  to  death,  and  Cyril  had  buried 
him  in  the  church,  and  caused  his  name  to  be  registered  among  the 
martyrs.  The  partisans  of  the  bishop  extended  their  resentment  to 
the  unfortunate  Hypatia.  As  she  was  one  day  returning  home  from 
the  schools,  an  infuriated  mob  seized  her,  drew  her  from  her  chair, 
and  dragged  her  to  the  church  called  Ca?sarea,  where,  after  having 
stripped  off  her  garments,  they  killed  her,  and,  with  monstrous  bar- 
barity, consigned  her  mangled  limbs  to  the  flames.  Cyril,  violent  and 
haughty,  was  reproached,  perhaps  not  without  foundation,  as  having 
connived  in  this  atrocious  murder.1 

Many    learned    men,    though    not    professed    philosophers,    em- 
braced the  new  Platonic   doctrines.     Among  the  most  noted  was 

Macrobius.  Macrobius,2  who  lived  in  the  reign  of  Honorius  and  Theodosius  II., 
and  wrote,  among  other  books,  '  A  Commentary  on  Scipio's  Dream, 
as  described  by  Cicero,'  and  '  Saturnalia,'  or  conversations  between  the 
most  eminent  men  of  Rome;  a  curious  work,  full  of  critical  and 
antiquarian  lore,  but  written  without  much  spirit  or  accuracy. 

Themistius.  Themistius  may  also  be  added,  an  orator,  whose  honest  eloquence, 
which  shines  with  a  stronger  glare  on  the  darkened  theatre  of  degene- 
rate literature,  procured  for  him  the  successive  favours  of  Constantius, 
Julian,  Valens,  Gratian,  and  Theodosius.3 

The   historian,  Ammianus  Marcellinus,4  also  speaks  with   much 

1  Her  life  was  written  by  the  Abbe'  Goujet,  in  torn.  v.  of  the  Memoires  de  Littera- 
ture,  by  Desmolets.     See  also  Enfield's  Hist,  of  Phil.  vol.  ii. 

2  The  best  edition  of  Macrobius  is  that  of  Leyden  (1676,  in  8vo),  with  the  Vari- 
orum notes.     There  is  also  a  good  edition  published  in  London  (1694,  in  8vo). 

3  The  best  edition  of  Themistius  is  that  of  Harduin,  fol.  Paris,  1684.     See  par- 
ticularly the  extracts  from  his  Harangues  or  Panegyrics  in  Thomas,  Essai  sur  les 
Eloges,  c.  xxi. 

4  The  style  of  Ammianus  is  harsh,  inflated,  and  obscure.     But  it  should  be  re- 
membered that  it  is  the  style,  not  only  of  a  soldier,  but  of  a  Greek,  who  wrote  in 
Latin,  at  a  period  when  most  historical  works  were  destitute  of  elegance.     He  thus 
concludes  his  history : — Haec  ut  miles  quondam  et  Graecus,  a  principatu  Caesaris 
Nervaa  exorsus   adusque  Valentis  interitum,  pro  virium   explicavi  mensura,  opus 
veritatem  professum  nunquam  (ut  arbitror)  sciens  silentio  ausus  corrumpere  vel 
mendacio.    Scribant  reliqua  potiores  estate,  doctrinis  florentes.    Quos  id  (si  libuerit) 


Ammianus 
Marcellinus. 


PLOTINUS. THE   LATER   PLATONISTS.  297 

respect  of  the  Platonic  philosophers.  A  few  passages,  in  which 
Ammianus  mentions  Christianity  in  favourable  terms,1  have  been 
adduced  to  prove  that  he  was  himself  a  Christian.  But  it  is  surely 
one  thing  to  approve  of  the  morality,  another  to  have  embraced  the 
doctrines,  of  a  religion;  it  is  one  thing  to  contrast  the  intemperate 
conduct  of  certain  Christians  with  the  benevolent  spirit  of  their  pro- 
fessed principles,  and  another  to  have  himself  adopted  those  principles. 
A  Jew  not  unfrequently  appeals  to  Christian  charity,  yet  it  by  no 
means  follows  that  he  is  converted.  The  manner  in  which  he  ascribes 
sudden  relief,  in  a  moment  of  distress,  to  sacrifices  offered  in  the 
temple  of  Castor,2  is,  perhaps,  of  itself  sufficient  to  show  that  the 
author  was  a  pagan. 

Some,  who  devoted  their  time  chiefly  to  the  illustration  of  the 
Aristotelian  philosophy,  may  be,  with  more  propriety,  considered  in 
the  class  of  Peripatetic  philosophers,  such,  for  instance,  were  Olym- 
piodorus,  the  preceptor  of  Proclus,  and  Simplicius. 

Although  the  exalted  conceptions  of  Plato  had  filled  the  minds  of  his  character  of 
later  followers  with  high  and  fervent  aspirations,  they  appeared  to  have 
despaired  of  attaining  to  the  magic  of  his  immitable  style.  The  lan- 
guage of  Plotinus,  teeming  with  ideas,  is  yet  confused,  immethodical, 
and  unadorned.  It  is  a  task,  therefore,  of  considerable  difficulty  to 
develop  arguments  which  are  rather  sketched  than  completed,  and  to 
present  in  a  clear  light  the  whole  of  a  system,  of  which  the  parts  are 
not  only,  separately  considered,  obscure,  but,  in  their  general  relations, 
ill-connected.  The  labours  of  Porphyry,  however,  insufficient  as  we 
cannot  but  deem  them,  have  doubtless  prevented  the  confusion  from 
being  still  greater  than  it  is  at  present. 

At  the  request  of  Plotinus,  whose  theories  his  habits  of  intimacy  The 
enabled  him  to  ascertain,  he  distributed  his  works  into  '  Enneades,'  to 
which  he  added  some  comments  of  his  own.  This  work,  one  of  the 
most  curious  of  ancient  monuments,  is  highly  useful  as  an  exposition, 
for  such  it  is,  rather  than  an  elementary  view,  of  the  transcendental 
philosophy  of  his  age.  We  shall  endeavour  to  point  out,  though  in 
a  very  concise  manner,  its  most  leading  features. 

Each  of  the  six  '  Enneades'  is  composed  of  nine  books.     The  first, 

aggressuros,  procudere  linguas  ad  majores  moneo  stylos.  Of  the  thirty-one  books, 
into  which  the  History  of  Ammianus  was  divided,  only  the  last  eighteen,  beginning 
after  the  death  of  Magnentius,  in  353,  are  extant ;  though  full  of  digressions,  they 
are  highly  valuable  for  the  information  they  contain,  and  the  candour  they  evince. 
There  is  a  good  edition  of  Ammianus,  with  the  notes  of  F.  Lindenbrogius,  Hen.  and 
Hadr.  Valesius,  Jas.  Gronovius,  Th.  Reinesius,  and  J.  Augustin.  Wagner,  by  C. 
Gottlob.  Aug.  Erfurdt,  in  3  vols.  8vo,  Leips.  The  Dictionnaire  Bibliographique 
remarks:  II  y  a  une  traduction  Fran9aise  d'Ammien  Marcellin  dont  j'ignore  le 
nom  de  1'auteur,  elle  est  en  3  vols.  in-12,  d'abord  imprime'e  a  Berlin,  puis  a  Lyon 
en  1778  (torn.  iv.  p.  18).  The  author  of  the  translation  in  question  was  M.  de 
Moulines,  who  undertook  it  at  the  request  of  Frederick  II. 

1  Especially  because  he  says  of  George,  the  bishop,  "  Professionis  suae  oblitus,  quae 
nihil  nisi  justum  suadet  et  lene,  ad  delatorum  ausa  feralia  desciscebat"  (lib.  xxii.) 

2  Lib.  six.  c.  10. 


298 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


The  Qrst 
principle. 
Absolute 
unity. 


The  second 
principle. 
Supreme 
intelligence. 


The  third 
principle. 
The  soul. 


touching  essentially  on  moral  subjects,  treats,  among  other  points,  of 
Man,  of  the  Virtues,  of  Happiness,  of  Beauty,  of  the  Chief  Good,  of 
the  Origin  of  Evils,  of  the  Emancipation  of  the  Soul  from  the  Body. 
The  second,  relating  essentially  to  Physics,  treats,  besides  other  subjects, 
of  the  World,  of  Circular  Motion,  of  the  Action  of  the  Stars,  of  the 
two  kinds  of  Matter.  The  third  treats  of  Destiny,  of  Providence,  of 
each  man's  Demon,  of  Love,  of  Eternity  and  Time,  and  other  general 
considerations  on  the  Laws  of  the  Universe.  The  fourth  is  on  the 
Essence,  the  Nature,  Lhe  Faculties,  and  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul  ; 
its  descent  into  the  body  and  its  diversities.  The  fifth  is  on  Intelligence 
— on  the  three  principal  Substances,  on  Unity,  on  Ideas,  &c.  The  sixth 
and  last  is  a  kind  of  recapitulation,  treating  on  Being,  Unity,  Numbers, 
Ideas,  Liberty,  &c.  The  six  Enneades  are  composed  of  three 
divisions :  the  1st  contains  the  first  three  Enneades ;  the  2d,  the  fourth 
and  fifth  ;  and  the  3d,  the  sixth.1 

The  Plotinian  doctrine  has  been  defined  u  the  theory  of  absolute 
unity,  perfect  and  primordial,  and  the  graduated  relations  by  which 
variety  proceeds." 

The  triads  of  Pythagoras  and  Plato,  and  the  doctrines  of  the 
Christians,  probably  suggested  the  idea  of  three  Principles. 

The  First  Principle  is  above  all  things.  From  it  all  things  proceed ; 
without  it  nothing  could  be.  It  is  One.  It  is  simple.  From  it 
emanate  motion  and  rest;  but  itself,  having  no  place,  has  neither 
motion  nor  rest.  It  is  infinite,  not  as  matter  is  immense,  but  as  being 
one,  and  as  having  nothing  by  which  it  can  be  limited.  As  there 
can  be  nothing  better  than  that  from  which  all  things  proceed,  it  is 
the  best  of  all  things.  It  is  essentially  good.  It  is  the  source  and 
end  of  beauty.  It  is  free,  but  its  freedom,  and  its  other  attributes, 
must  not  be  understood  in  the  sense  in  which  they  are  ascribed  to 
other  beings,  but  in  a  manner  altogether  inexplicable. 

From  this  First  Principle  proceeds  mind,  or  intellect,  its  lively 
image.  It  proceeds  from  it  without  action  and  without  will,  without 
altering  or  modifying  the  First  Principle,  even  as  light  proceeds  from 
the  sun.  Intelligence  is  at  once  the  object  conceived ;  the  subject 
which  conceives  ;  the  act  of  conceiving :  these  three  things  are  identical. 
It  contemplates  itself  incessantly ;  this  contemplation  is  its  essence. 

The  third  Principle,  subordinate  to  the  two  others,  is  the  universal 
soul,  the  principle  of  life,  subsisting,  as  well  as  intellect,  of  which  it 
is  the  image,  in  the  Divine  essence.  It  is  supramundane.  It  is  the 
source  of  the  principle  which  is  diffused  through  and  animates  the  world. 

This  procession  is  not  operated  in  time;  it  is  from  all  eternity. 
The  three  Principles,  though  forming  a  hierarchy  in  order  and  dignity, 
are  contemporaneous.2 

1  The  ninth  book  of  the  second  Ennead  is  Against  the  Gnostics.     The  object  of 
Plotinus  is  to  refute  the  theory  of  the  two  principles  and  that  of  successive  emana- 
tions. 

2  Brucker  thus  describes  the  Plotinian  Trinity.  Plotinus,  he  says,  taught,  "  Prin- 


TLOTINUS. — THE   LATEK    PLATONISTS.  299 

Matter  is  considered  merely  as  the  receptacle  of  forms,  the  basis  of  Matter,  &c. 
qualities ;  itself  has  neither  figure,  quality,  magnitude,  nor  place,  and 
must,  therefore,  be  defined  negatively. 

The  intelligible  world — unchangeable  and  eternal — alone  embraces 
true  essences,  of  which  this  visible  world  merely  presents  the  appear- 
ance. The  intelligible  world,  or  plenitude  of  ideas,  rales  over  and 
penetrates  into  all  parts  of  the  sensible  world  by  the  excellence  and 
energy  of  its  power. 

Among  celestial  natures  are  different  orders,  possessing  different 
gradations  of  excellence,  gods,  demons,  genii,  heroes. 

The  human  soul,  derived  from  the  suprarnundane  soul,  is  in  this 
respect  sister,  as  it  were,  to  the  soul  of  the  world.  Pre-existing  before 
its  union  with  the  body,  from  which  all  its  vices  arise,  it  returns,  after 
its  separation,  to  the  Divine  source  whence  it  emanated.  Here  below, 
the  soul  is  not  in  the  body,  as  in  its  place  or  receptacle,  nor  as  a  part 
of  a  whole,  nor  as  form  is  united  with  matter,  but  it  is  present  to  the 
body  as  its  animating  principle.  The  human  soul  may  unite  itself 
with  the  Divine  soul,  and  by  this  with  the  Divinity,  whence  it  derives 
all  its  knowledge ;  for  the  most  pure  and  exalted  source  of  knowledge 
is  in  the  contemplation  of  Divine  forms.1  The  soul  perceives  by 

cipium  omnium  non  esse  omnia,  sed  super  omnia  et  potestatem  omnium,  nempe 
super-ens  ;  illud  intellectual! s  vitae  causam  esse,  et  infinitum  modo  singulari  optimum 
sibi  sufficientissimum,  pulcherrimum,  liberrimum,  unum,  ipsam  essentiam  ;  nee  hoc 
in  alia  principia  deducendum,  sed  hoc  proposito  intellectum  deinde,  quodve  primo 
intelJigit,  mox  animam  post  eum  collocanda,  et  ita  tria  tantum  in  divinis  principia 
ponenda  esse.  Hujus  trinitatis  centrum  esse  lucidissimum,  lucem  ex  se  scaturiens, 
atque  divino  modo  generans ;  hinc  maximum  post  illud,  mentem  esse,  a  Deo  geni- 
tam,  illi  vero  cohaarentem,  quse  sit  imago  Dei,  ut  lux  solis ;  intellectum  hunc  gene- 
rare  animam.  Intellectum  istum  multa  (nempe  objective)  in  se  habere,  et  hinc  esse 
multum  et  unum  ;  ejus  actionem  esse  intelligentiam,  ipsum  suo  modo  multiplicem 
esse,  et  compositum,  nempe  complecti  res  revera  existentes,  id  est,  intelligibilia  et 
ideas  pro  conditione  rationum  seminalium  in  mundo  :  ideas  autem  istas  ab  intellectu 
non  differre,  sed  actum  tantum  accedere,  ut  multa  fiant  in  entibus.  Mentem 
divinam  per  ideas  in  materiam  agere  intrinsece,  non  tamen  eas  esse,  ut  rerum  irra- 
tionalium,  sed  praestantiori  gradu.  In  ccelo  incorporeo  esse  Deos  duplices  intelli- 
gibiles  et  intellectuals ;  illos  ideas  esse,  hos  intellectus  omnes  aeterna  idearum 
contemplatione  beatos.  Animam  mundi  non  mundanam  tantum  esse,  sed  et  supra- 
muudanam.  Veneremque  duplicem,  terrestrem  et  ccelestem.  Hanc  supramundanam 
esse  essentiam  ex  essentist  emanantem  et  existentem  simul  at  minorem  generante :  ab 
eo  generari  animas  reliquas,  licet  unum  totum  sit  ubique.  Nunquam  fuisse  tempus, 
quo  universum  non  animatum  fuerit ;  neque  materiam  unquam  informem  potuisse 
existere.  Nisi  enim  corpus  sit,  animam  non  fuisse  progressuram  ex  lumine,  earn 
cum  umbram  inveniret  in  extremis  mundum  fecisse,  tanquam  aedificium  speciosum, 
non  separatum  ab  effectore,  at  nee  illi  tamen  commixtum.  Quicquid  attingat  ani- 
mam, sic  inde  perfici,  prout  essentia  animae  naturaliter  se  habeat  ;  ornatum  vero 
esse  ex  animae  potestate ;  eum  in  rebus  inanimatis  non  consopitam  jacere,  sed  tendere 
in  aliud  ;  earn  rotare  omnia  &  summis  ad  una  per  circulum.  Haec  de  principiorum 
trinitate  Plotinus  tradidit,  quae  cum  Christianorum  trinitate  confundenda  haud  sunt." 
(Inst.  Hist.  Phil.  p.  335.) 

1  In  this  system  the  human  mind  may  also  act,  and  receive  knowledge  in  two 
ordinary  ways ;  one  by  participating  in  intelligence,  the  other  by  forms :  in  the 
first,  being  in  a  manner  filled  and  illuminated  by  intelligence,  it  feels  and  sees  it 


300  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

means  of  the  First  Principle,  even  as  the  eye  by  means  of  light. 
The  vision,  or  intuition  of  God,  the  great  point  of  perfection  and  felicity, 
by  which  the  mind,  a  link  in  the  chain  of  intelligence,  ascends,  by  the 
various  steps  of  purification,  to  the  great  source  of  life  and  being, — 
was  the  high  object  of  the  Plotinian  school.  Porphyry  relates  that 
Plotinus  had  four  times  during  his  life  enjoyed  an  intimate  commu- 
nication with  the  Divine  Being,  and  that  he  himself  had  attained  that 
favour  once.1 

The  liberation  of  the  soul  from  its  corporeal  prison,  was  the  end  of 
the  new  Platonic  morals,  to  attain  which  it  was  to  pass  through  several 
degrees  of  human  and  divine  virtues.2  The  human  virtues  are  physical, 
economical,  and  political ;  they  relate  to  the  care  of  the  body  and  the 
duties  of  private  and  public  life.  The  Divine  virtues  are  purgative, 
requiring  abstinence  and  mortification  ;  theoretic,  comprising  the  intel- 
lectual exercise  of  contemplating  intelligible  natures;  and  theurgic,  lead- 
immediately  ;  in  the  other,  it  uses  certain  laws  or  characters  engraven  in  us,  for 
God  has  imprinted  in  the  human  mind  the  rational  forms  of  things.  But  true 
knowledge  is  that  in  which  the  thing  known  is  identical  with  the  subject  knowing : 
such  is  that  which  the  understanding  has  of  itself.  (Enn.  iv.  lib.  viii.  c.  4  ;  Enn. 
v.  lib.  iii.  c.  4  ;  Enn.  iii.  lib.  viii. ;  Enn.  vi.  lib.  i.  c.  4.)  The  faculties  of  the 
soul  are  of  two  sorts ;  one,  directing  themselves  above  themselves,  constitute 
reason  ;  the  others,  descending  to  the  lower  regions,  form  sensibility  and  vegetation. 
Eeason  is,  as  it  were,  intermediate  between  the  understanding  and  the  senses,  it  acts 
not  by  means  of  corporeal  organs,  but  by  the  sole  force  of  intelligence.  (Enn.  v. 
lib.  iii.  c.  2  ;  Enn.  ii.  lib.  i.  c.  7.)  The  understanding  is  never  passive,  it  receives 
not  forms  from  without ;  it  is  not  even  passive  in  sensation,  as  some  philosophers 
suppose.  In  sensation,  it  is  not  modified  by  an  impression  reaching  it;  on  the 
contrary,  it  acts  and  carries  itself  without.  Light  comes  not  from  the  object 
lighted,  but  from  the  luminous  subject.  (Enn.  iii.  lib.  i.  c.  10;  lib,  ii.  c.  1;  Enn.  v. 
lib.  v.  c.  6.)  In  vision,  the  mind  places,  but  at  a  distance,  the  object  perceived, 
and  attributes  to  it  a  size  very  different  from  that  of  which  it  has  the  image.  (See 
Enn.  iv.  lib.  vi.  c.  1,  2,  &c.)  Memory  consists,  not  in  the  preservation  or  trace  of 
received  impressions,  but,  on  the  contrary,  in  a  development  of  the  energy  of  the 
soul,  powerful  in  proportion  as  this  energy  is  intense.  (See  Enn.  iv.  lib.  iv.  c.  3, 
&c.)— Degerando,  Hist,  des  Syst.  Philos.  torn.  iii.  c.  21. 

1  There  are  three  ways  of  elevating  oneself  to  the  First  Principle.  Harmony,  love, 
wisdom ;  these  are  expressed  by  Plotinus  when  he  distinguished  three  states,  called 
the  Musician,  the  Lover  (Epom/cbs),  and  the  Philosopher.     The  first  is  still  placed 
in  the  midst  of  lower  objects,  but  the  admiration  which  is  raised  within  him  by  the 
image  of  beauty  reflected  on  them  prepares  his  soul  for  truth  :  the  second  resides 
in  a  more  exalted  sphere;  he  is  engaged  in  the  love  of  immaterial  things  :  the  third 
soars,  as  if  borne  on  wings,  to  the  sphere  sublime,  to  the  contemplation  of  intel- 
ligibles  in  their  very  source.     Plotinus  recommends,  therefore,  his  followers  to 
prepare  themselves  by  purifications,  by  prayers,  by  exercises,  which  adorn  the  mind, 
to  ascend  to  the  intellectual  world,  to  nourish  themselves  with  the  celestial  food 
which  it  contains ;  to  raise  themselves  to  that  height  where  the  spectacle  becomes 
identical  with  the  spectator ;  where  the  mind  not  merely  sees  itself  in  itself,  but 
everything  else ;  where  essence  is  one  with  intelligence ;  where,  confounded  in  a 
manner  with  the  universality  of  beings,  it  embraces  it  not  as  being  external,  but  as 
belonging  to  it. — Enn.  vi.  lib.  vii.  c.  36  ;  Degerando,  Hist.  Comp.  des  Syst.  Phil, 
torn.  iii.  p.  382. 

2  See  the  learned  dissertation  of  Fabricius,  De  Gradibus  Virtutum,  secundum 
quas  Proclum  laudat  Marinus,   in  his  Prolegomena  to  the  Life  of  Proclus  by 
Marinus. 


PLOTINUS. — THE  LATER   PLATONISTS,  301 

ing  by  immediate  communications  with  superior  beings,  to  obtain  power 
over  demons,  and  to  attain  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  Divine  vision. 

It  is  evident   that   there  is   the  greatest  similarity   between    the  Comparison 
mysticism  of  the  Plotinian  school  and  that  of  the  Quietists  in  later  j5SSanhe 
times,  who  regarded  an  intense  and  undisturbed  contemplation  of  the  school  and 
divine  perfections  as  a  means  of  obtaining  an  intimate  union  with  the  the  Quie 
Deity.     Indeed,  it  would  be  no  uninteresting  speculation  to  compare 
the  Plotinian  reveries  with  those  of  the  Hesychasts  and  of  the  Illuminati, 
as  well  as  with  those  of  Molinos,  Malaval,  Mad.  Guyon,  and  Fenelon 
— names  which  show  (and  it  is  the  best  lesson  of  charity)  how  often 
mistaken,  and  even  dangerous,  opinions  may  find  admission  into  minds, 
to  which  it  would  be  unjust  to  deny  the  praise  of  amiable  and  benevo- 
lent and  pious  feelings. 

It  is  to  be  remarked  that  Plotinus  not  merely  extended,  but  even  Difference 
departed  from,  the  doctrines  of  Plato.      For  instance,  according  to  Jj^J $* 
Plato,  matter   is   coeternal  with   the  Divinity,  to   whom   he   alone  Plato  and 
attributes  those  ideas,  of  which  it  imposes  the  forms  on  matter ;  Plotmus- 
according  to  Plotinus,  all  that  is  real  is  in  the  Divinity,  emanates  from 
it ;  matter  is  only  a  vain  appearance,  a  mere  negation.     According  to 
Plato,  the  object  of  man  is  to  draw  near  to  God,  to  endeavour  to 
resemble  Him  ;  according  to  Plotinus,  man  may  unite,  and,  as  it  were, 
identify  himself  with  God.     According  to  Plato,  ideas  are  only  present 
to  the  Supreme  Intelligence  j1  according  to  Plotmus,  they  are  substances 
identified  with  that  intelligence.2  , 

1  This  Platonic  doctrine  has  been  described  with  exquisite  beauty  by  one  of  our 
own  poets,  whose  genuis,   "warm  from  the  schools"  of  Athens,  and  truly  "en- 
chanted with  Socratic  sounds,"  was  peculiarly  adapted  to  lend  attractions  no  less 
to  the  philosophical  than  to  the  political  sentiments  of  ancient  Greece : — 

Ere  the  radiant  sun 

Sprang  from  the  East,  or  'mid  the  vault  of  night 

The  moon  suspended  her  serener  lamp  : 

Ere  mountains,  woods,  or  streams,  adorn'd  the  globe, 

Or  Wisdom  taught  the  sons  of  men  her  lore — 

Then  lived  the  Almighty  One,  then,  deep  retired, 

In  his  unfathomed  essence,  view'd  the  forms, 

The  forms  eternal  of  created  things ; 

The  radiant  sun,  the  moon's  nocturnal  lamp, 

The  mountains,  woods,  and  streams,  the  rolling  globe, 

And  Wisdom's  mien  celestial.     From  the  first 

Of  days,  on  them  his  love  divine  he  fix'd, 

His  admii-ation,  till,  in  time  complete, 

What  he  admir'd  and  lov'd,  his  vital  smile 

Unfolded  into  being.     Hence  the  breath 

Of  life,  informing  each  organic  frame ; 

Hence  the  green  earth,  and  wild-resounding  waves ; 

Hence  light  and  shade,  alternate  warmth  and  cold, 

And  clear  autumnal  skies  and  vernal  showers, 

And  all  the  fair  variety  of  things. 

Akenside — Pleasures  of  Imagination,  book  i. 
It  would  be  curious  to  compare  the  above  systems  with  that  of  Malebranche. 

2  Degerando,  Hist.  Comp.  des  Syst.  Phil.  torn.  ii.  c.  21.     The  following  may 


302  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

Manner  in         It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  point  out  the  consummate  art  with  which 
Eclectic?16      *ke  Eclectic  philosophy  was  adapted  to  thwart  and  perplex  the  progress 
philosophy    of  revealed  religion.     By  the  help  of  allegory,  of  all  devices  the  most 
latedto011"     accommodatingly   flexible,  it    endeavoured    to  detect  and   trace   the 
impede         features  of  hidden  wisdom  in  those  monstrous  fictions  of  paganism, 
im  y>  which  afforded  so  much  scope  to  the  sarcastic  severity  of  the  early 
advocates  of  Christianity.     By  adopting,  too,  the  oriental  theory  of  a 
scale  of  Divine  emanations,  and  by  representing  those  inferior  spirits 
as  mediators  between  the  Supreme  Deity  and  mankind,  it  justified  and 
enjoined  polytheistic  worship.     Moreover,  by  attempting  to  mould  into 
accordance  the  chief  tenets  of  various  schools,  it  undertook  to  remove 
the  objection  to  which  philosophy  was  repeatedly  exposed  by  the  dis- 
putes of  its  most  eminent  professors  on  momentous  questions.    'Again, 
by  the  elevated  tone  of  morality  and  mysticism  which  it  assumed,  a 
strong  effort  was  made  to  remove  the  stigma  of  inconsistency  which 
rested  on  the  character  of  a  philosopher.     And  while  many  of  the 
peculiarities  of  the  new  religion  were  adroitly  introduced,  in  the  dis- 
guise of  expanded  and  embellished  Platonism,  every  art  of  falsehood 
was  taxed  to  maintain  the  pretensions  of  ineffable  communications 
with,  and    miraculous    control   over,   the   powers   of    the    invisible 
world.1 

In  brief,  for  our  limits  forbid  us  from  entering  into  the  obscurity  of 
of  the  Neo-Platonic  subtilties,  the  doctrines  of  Plotirms  may  be  thus 
recapitulated.  He  considers  the  metaphysical  generation  of  ideas  as 
the  type  of  the  generation  of  beings,  or  rather  he  represents  both 
generations  as  identical,  for  he  admits  no  beings  but  spirits?  Spirit 
in  its  turn  is  identical  with  its  own  ideas,  it  has  no  object  out  of  itself; 
the  intuition,  immediate  or  reflex,  is  also  the  source  of  all  knowledge, 
and  as  particular  notions  are,  according  to  metaphysical  order,  com- 
prised in  the  most  general  notion,  the  First  Principle  comprises  all 

serve  as  an  instance  of  their  manner  of  combining,  or  rather  confounding,  the 
opinions  of  different  sects.  After  having  explained  the  Plotinian  cosmology,  Brucker 
adds,  "  Luculenter  ex  hoc  Plotinianse  physologise  systemate  constare  potest,  quo 
pacto  setemitatem  mundi  Aristotelicam  cum  Platouis  opinione,  mundum  a  Deo 
factum  esse,  Plotinus  conciliaverit.  Intelligi  autem  ex  eo  quoque  potest,  quomodo 
Plotiniana  secta  eandem  de  rerum  origine  hypothesin  Christianorum  decretis,  omnia 
ex  nihilo  esse  producta,  assimilaveilt.  Nam  idem  quoque  dicere  ausi  sunt,  sed  sig- 
nificatione  diversa :  nempe  Deum  omnia,  ipsamque  materiam  non  preexistentem  et 
sibi  subjectam  habuisse,  sed  ex  suo  sinu  libero  voluntatis  suae  actu,  adeoque  ex 
nullo  preexistente  subjecto  eduxisse.  Quod  exemplum  esse  potest,  quam  turpiter 
horum  hominum  syncretismus  decreta  philosophorum,  et  ipsam  veritatem  coalestem 
corruperit."— Instit.  Hist.  Phil.  p.  282. 

1  See  Brucker,  Instit.  Hist.  Phil.  p.  275. 

2  Tiedemann,  in  his  work  on  the  Spirit  of  Speculative  Philosophy,  regards  the 
Plotinian  system  as  gross  Spinosism,  because  Plotinus  considers  all  existing  things 
as  parts  of  the  Divinity,  and  the  Divinity  itself  as  the  first  matter,  which,  by  diverse 
transformations,  reproduces  itself  under  forms  infinitely  varied ;  and  as  subtle  Spi- 
nosism, because  he  makes  the  Divinity  the  original  subject  of  all  the  varied  appear- 
ances which  present  themselves  on  the  theatre  of  experience,  and  wishes  to  deduce 
all  things  from  the  sole  notions  of  the  understanding. 


PLOTINUS. — THE   LATER   PLATONISTS.  303 

realities ;  the  first  intelligence  is  at  the  same  time  the  universal  intelli- 
gence, and  it  contains  necessarily  all  other  intelligences.1 

"  Even  the  errors  of  great  men  are  fruitful  of  truths ;"  arid  this  one 
practical  advantage  at  least  may  be  derived  from  a  survey,  however 
brief,  of  philosophical  errors  that,  in  enabling  us  to  trace,  it  teaches  us 
to  avoid,  the  source  from  which  they  have  arisen,  and  the  mazes  through 
which  they  run.  The  history  of  the  Plotinian  school — of  men  who 
rendered  profitless  the  high  mental  endowments  they  had  received  from 
nature,  by  substituting  "  ungrounded  fancies"  and  mystical  aspirations 
for  those  sober  inquiries  which  lie  within  the  reach  of  the  human 
intellect — affords,  we  think,  a  useful  exemplification  of  that  species  of 
error,  which  the  great  Bacon  has  placed  among  the  "  peccant  humours" 
by  which  learning  has  been  corrupted.  It  has  proceeded  "  from  too 
great  a  reverence  and  a  kind  of  adoration  of  the  mind  and  under- 
standing of  man,  by  means  whereof  men  have  withdrawn  themselves 
from  the  contemplation  of  nature,  and  the  observations  of  experience, 
and  have  tumbled  up  and  down  in  their  own  reason  and  conceits. 
Upon  these  intellectualists,  which  are,  notwithstanding  commonly  taken 
for  the  most  sublime  and  divine  philosophers,  Heraclitus  gave  a  just 
censure,  saying,  *  men  sought  truth  in  their  own  little  wrorlds,  and  not 
in  the  great  and  common  world ;'  for  they  disdain  to  spell,  and  so  by 
degrees  to  read  in  the  volume  of  God's  works ;  and  contrariwise,  by 
continual  meditation  and  agitation  of  wit,  do  urge  and,  as  it  were, 
invocate  their  own  spirits  to  divine  and  give  oracles  unto  them,  where- 
by they  are  deservedly  deluded."1 

Such  is  a  faint  and  naturally  very  imperfect  outline  of  the  peculiar 
philosophy,2  which,  generally  spread,  exerted  mighty  influence  from 
the  third  to  the  seventh  century ;  which,  after  having  reappeared  in 
the  middle  ages,  shone  with  great  lustre  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth 
centuries  ;3  and  which,  notwithstanding  its  wildness  and  extravagance, 

1  Degerando,  Hist.  Comp.  des  Syst.  Phil.  torn.  ii.  c.  21. 

2  Of  the  Advancement  of  Learning,  lib.  i.  c.  5. 

3  Our  object  having  been  merely  to  present  a  clear  outline  of  the  most  prominent 
features  of  the  Eclectic  school,  together  with  a  succinct  view  of  its  most  noted  pro- 
pagators, we  have  been  obliged  to  avoid  entering  into  a  detail  of  its  metaphysical 
and  theological  principles,  or  into  notices  of  the  long  train  of  eminent  men  who 
have  successively  adopted  and  extended  Platonic  notions.     Among  the  authors  of  a 
marked  Platonic  cast,  who  adorn  the  annals  of  English  Literature,  it  is  sufficient  to 
mention  the  celebrated  names  of  Theophilus  Gale,  of  Henry  More,  and,  above  all, 
of  R.  Cudworth. 

4  Degerando,  Hist.  Comp.  des  Syst.  Phil.     Besides  this  able  work,  by  which, 
together  with  the  learned  Brucker's  Hist.  Critic.  Phil.  torn.  ii.   and  Enfield's  Hist, 
of  Phil,  we  have  been  chiefly  guided,  the  reader  will  find  additional  information  in 
the  writings  of  Mather,  Tiedemann,  Tennemann,  Buhle,  and  V.  Cousin.     See  also 
Cudworth's  Intellectual  System,  with  Mosheim's  valuable  notes  to  his  Latin  trans- 
lation ;  Mosheim  de  turbata  per  recentiores  Platonicos  Ecclesia  ;  Fabric.  Biblioth. 
Grasc.  torn.  ix.  Ed.  Harles;  Creuzer's  Letter  to  Wyttenbach,  prefixed  to  his  edition 
of  the  fragment  of  Plotinus,  De  Pulchro ;  to  which  may  be  added  the  following 
works,    noticed   by   Degerando   (torn.  iii.  note  p,  p.  478),  Beausobre,   Hist,  de 


304  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

still  perhaps  may  be  destined  to  rise  into  new  importance  by  the 
united  efforts  of  learning  in  Germany  and  enthusiasm  in  France. 

1'Eclectisme;  Obarius,  Dissert,  de  Eclecticis,  prefixed  to  the  German  translation  of 
Stanley ;  (Erich's  Commert.  de  Doctrina  Platon,  &c. ;  Koth.  Dissert.  Trinit.  Pla- 
tonic. ;  Leder  Muller,  Dissert,  de  Theurgia1,  &c.;  Dicell.  Majer,  Series  veterum  in 
Schol.  Alexandr.  Doctor.;  Rosier,  De  Commentitiis  Phil.  Ammonianse  fraudib.  et 
noxis;  Feussling,  De  tribus  Hypostasibus  Plotini;  Habenftreet,  Dissert,  de  Jamblic. 
Phil.  Syr.  Doctrin. ;  Hilscher,  De  Schola1  Alexandrin. ;  a  Letter  by  M.  de  Ste. 
Croix,  in  a  new  edition  of  the  Eclectics ;  a  Dissertation  by  the  son  of  Fichte,  De 
Philosophise  novae  Platonic,  origine  ;  Neander,  Uber  den  Kaiser  Julian  and  sein 
Zeitalter,  &c. 


ARCHIMEDES. 

GREEK  MATHEMATICS. 

BY 

WILLIAM  WHEWELL,  D.D.,  F.R.S., 

MASTER  OF   TRINITY  COLLEGE,   CAMBRIDGE; 
PROFESSOR  OF  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY  IN  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAMBRIDGE. 


[G.  R.  p.] 


GREEK  MATHEMATICIANS. 


THALES     ----- 
ANAXIMANDER  ----- 
PYTHAGORAS     - 
EMPEDOCLES     - 
ANAXAGORAS    - 
ARCHYTAS  ----- 
DEMOCRITUS     - 
ZENODORUS       ---- 
HIPPOCRATES    -      -      -      - 
ANTIPHON  AND  BRYSON  - 
METON  AND  EUCTEMON  -      - 
PLATO       _____ 
MENECHMUS      ---- 

DlNOSTRATUS     ---- 

EUDOXUS   ----- 
ARISTOTLE        - 
AUTOLYCUS       - 
EUCLID      ----- 
ARISTILLUS  AND  TIMOCHARIS  - 
ARISTARCHUS    -      -      -      - 
ARATUS     _____ 
ARCHIMEDES     -      -      -      - 

CONON         _____ 

ERATOSTHENES  -  -  -  - 
APOLLONIUS  ---- 
CTESIBIUS  ____ 
HERO  ----- 


_     DIED   B.C.    546 

-       B.  C.    547,  AGED      72 
B.  C.   507,  AGED      98 


B.  C.    413,  AGED      60 
B.  C.    428,  AGED      72 

B.C.  360 

B.  C.   361,  AGED    109 


FLOURISHED   B.C.    438 

-     DIED   B.  C.    348,  AGED      81 


-     DIED   B.  C.    322,  AGED      63 
FLOURISHED  B.  C.    330 

-  -         -       B.C.    320 

-      B.C.  280 

-  -       -      B.C.  281 


-  DIED   B.C.    212,  AGED      75 
FLOURISHED   B.  C.    240 

-  DIED   B.  C.    194,  AGED      82 
FLOURISHED  B.C.   215 

-  -         -       B.C.    150 

-  -        -       B.C.    140 


GREEK   MATHEMATICS. 

AT  the  time  when  the  state  of  eloquence  and  the  arts  among  the  Greek 
Greeks  showed  most  strongly  the  extraordinary  powers  of  their  geometry, 
minds,  they  were  employed  in  forming  and  advancing  the  singularly 
beautiful  and  intellectual  structure  of  the  GREEK  GEOMETRY.  This 
science,  associated  in  its  birth  with  their  earliest  philosophy,  generally 
continued  combined  with  their  favourite  speculations ;  and  in  its  pro- 
gress was  more  rapid,  or  at  least  more  certain,  than  any  of  them.  In 
the  school  of  PLATO  it  had  already  engaged  in  the  most  intricate  and 
difficult  researches;  and  when  transferred  to  the  college  of  Alexandria, 
it  produced  those  profound  investigations,  on  which  the  first  intellects 
of  later  times  have  been  content  to  employ  themselves  without  hoping 
to  add  to  its  discoveries. 

Among  the  names  which  the  history  of  this  subject  offers,  that  of 
ARCHIMEDES  has  been,  by  the  suffrage  of  all  judges,  considered  as 
standing  highest;  and  possessing  the  same  pre-eminence  in  the 
ancient  world  with  that  of  Newton  in  modern  times.  It  will,  there- 
fore, be  natural  to  combine  with  what  can  be  collected  of  his  biography, 
some  account  of  the  history,  about  that  time,  of  the  sciences  which  he 
cultivated.  This  sketch  of  what  was  then  known,  may  be  considered 
as  the  only  view  which  we  can  give  of  that  which  is  generally  the 
most  interesting  part  in  the  life  of  a  mathematician,  his  education  : 
for  it  is  clear  that  Archimedes  was  familiar  with  all  that  had  been 
done  in  mathematics  up  to  his  time.  Without  such  knowledge,  few 
have  been  fortunate  enough  to  extend,  as  he  did,  the  limits  of  their 
province  in  the  world  of  science. 

THALES  of  Miletus,  the  first  of  the  Greeks  who  is  mentioned  as  Thaies. 
having  turned  his  attention  to  geometry,  is  to  be  looked  on  as  the    B<  c-  60°- 
father  of  their  mathematical  science,  as  indeed  he  appears  to  have 
been  of  the  rest  of  their  philosophy.     The  discoveries  attributed  to 
him  are  of  the  most  elementary  kind;  but  enough  was  done  to  give 
an  impulse  to  the  subject;    and  his  followers  in  the  Ionic  school 
imitated  him  also  in  these  researches.     ANAXIMANDER  is  said  to  have  Anaximan. 
written  an  *  Introduction  to  Geometry.'    PYTHAGORAS  was  a  scholar  of  Jert'h  orag 
Thaies ;  and  did  much  for  the  progress  of  mathematics,  besides  the     B.  c.  540'. 
discovery  of  his  celebrated  theorem,  for  which  he  is  said,  it  must  be 
acknowledged  with  little  probability,  to  have  sacrificed  a  hetacomb. 
The  theories  of  which  he  was  the  author,  and  the  reception  which 
they  met  with,  show  the   strong  tendency  of  the  Greeks  to  such 
inquiries.     In  his  hands  and  those  of  his  successors,  music  became  a 

x2 


308  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

mathematical  subject ;  the  properties  of  numbers  were  pursued  with 
an  inquisitiveness  which  led  to  a  curious  spirit  of  mysticism ;  and  the 
doctrine  of  the  sphere  was  applied  to  the  explanation  of  astronomical 
phenomena. 

Under  these  circumstances  geometry  and  its  related  sciences  soon 
became  of  considerable  extent.  We  have  the  titles  of  several  treatises 

Democritus.  upon  a  variety  of  its  branches  by  DEMOCRITUS  and  others  of  the  times 
before  Pericles;  and  at  the  period  of  the  Peloponnesian  war, 
geometers  had  not  only  travelled  over  most  elementary  problems, 
but  had,  in  some  instances,  struck  against  those  limits  which  they 
have  been  ever  since  vainly  struggling  to  pass.  According  to 

Anaxagoras.  Plutarch,  ANAXAGORAS,    the  friend   of  Pericles,  employed   himself 

B.C.  530.  i   .  '.  .  .'        .  ,  ,  />      7  •      7 

Squaring  the  m  ms  Pnson  m  investigations  on  the  quadrature  of  the  circle;  and 

circle.  steps  of  the  same  problem  were  also  attempted  by  Antiphon  and 

Bryson,  whose  reasonings  Aristotle  calls  paralogisms,  though  it  would 

Hippocrates,  seem  undeservedly  with  respect  to  the  former.  HIPPOCRATES,  who 
was  originally  a  merchant  of  Chio,  and  became  a  geometer  at  Athens, 
whither  he  had  gone  in  consequence  of  pecuniary  misfortunes,  entered 
upon  a  train  of  research,  which  at  first  seemed  to  promise  success,  in 
measuring  the  circle.  He  went  so  far  as  to  find  the  area  of  a  space 

Limes.  comprehended  between  two  circular  areas,  and  called  a  lune,  from  its 
resemblance  to  the  horned  moon ;  but  it  was  found  impossible  to 
extend  this  to  a  whole  circle.  Another  problem,  now  also  known  to 
be  impracticable  by  plane  geometry,  namely,  the  discovery  of  two 
mean  proportionals,  excited  much  interest  about  this  time.  It  is 

Doubling  the  identical  with  the  problem  of  doubling  the  cube,  said   to  have  been 

cube.  proposed  by  the  oracle  at  Delos ;  though  this  story  is  probably  only 

one  of  those  fictions  in  which  mathematicians  used  often  to  present 
their  questions.  However  that  may  be,  it  is  certain  that  we  have 
several  solutions  of  this  problem,  purporting  to  be  of  the  time  of 
Plato,  given  by  Eutocius  in  his  commentary  on  Archimedes. 

Archytas.  ARCHYTAS,  a  Pythagorean,  the  master  of  Plato,  solved  it  by  a  some- 
what complicated  construction,  in  which  a  conical  and  cylindrical 

Menechmus.  surface  are  made  to  intersect.  MENECHMUS,  a  scholar  of  Plato, 
obtained  the  result  by  the  intersection  of  two  conic  sections. 

EudoxUS;  EUDOXUS,  another  of  Plato's  scholars,  is  said  to  have  applied  to  it 
B.  c.  370.  curve  ijnes  invented  by  himself.  Plato  himself  devised  a  kind  of 
parallel  ruler,  by  means  of  which  it  might  easily  be  mechanically 
executed.  Indeed,  the  Greek  geometry  seems  sometimes  to  have  had 
a  rather  curious  tendency  to  solve  its  problems  by  mechanical  con- 
trivances: of  which  practice,  according  to  Plutarch,  in  his  account  of 
Archimedes,  Plato  strongly  disapproved ;  notwithstanding  the  instance 
we  have  just  given  of  his  adoption  of  it.1 

1  Plutarch,  in.  Marcello.  Plutarch  obviously  confounds,  as  it  was  easy  for  a 
•writer  to  do  who  was  not  a  mathematician,  the  solution  of  problems  by  mechanical 
contrivances  (opydvtKi)'),  with  the  application  of  mathematics  to  problems  concerning 


MATHEMATICS.  309 

The  admiration  of  Plato  for  geometry  is  well  known,  from  the  in-  Plato, 
scription  which  he  is  said  to  have  placed  over  the  door  of  the  place    B* c'  40°* 
where  he  taught :  "  Let  no  one  enter  who  is  without  geometry."   The 
acquisitions  which  are  attributed  to  him  and  his  school  show  how 
rapidly  the  science  advanced ;  for  the  discoveries  which  we  have  now 
to  notice  are  no  longer  particular  propositions,  but  general  methods, 
and  long  trains  of  investigation.     We  shall  consider  them  in  order. 

It  appears  by  what  has  been  just  said  of  Menechmus,  that  the  Conies. 
conic  sections   had   already  been  discovered.      They   are   sometimes 
ascribed  to  Plato  himself,  and  many  of  their  properties  were  known 
soon  after  his  time. 

Plato  is  said  to  have  invented  the  geometrical  analysis ;  the  method  Analysis. 
by  which,  assuming  a  problematical  result  to  be  true,  we  reason  back- 
ward to  the  other  propositions  which  its  truth  presupposes,  till  we 
arrive  at  something  which  is  known  to  be  true  or  to  be  false ;  and 
thus  establish  or  overturn  the  proposition  assumed. 

Another  invention  of  this  illustrious  mathematical  school  was  the  Loci, 
doctrine  of  geometrical  loci.  By  this  proceeding,  when  a  required 
point  cannot  be  found  by  the  intersections  of  straight  lines  and  circles, 
some  new  curve  is  constructed,  consisting  of  the  places  which  the 
point  might  assume  by  leaving  out  one  of  the  conditions ;  and  in  this 
curve  the  remaining  condition  enables  us  to  determine  the  point  de- 
manded. The  quadratrix  (r£rpaywW£ov<ra)  of  Deinostratus,  a  curve 
so  called  from  the  scholar  of  Plato,  who  invented  it,  or  discovered  its 
properties,  and  from  its  use  in  squaring  the  circle,  was  one  of  the  first 
of  these  loci.  It  may  also  be  used  in  another  celebrated  problem,  the 
trisection  of  an  angle.  This  problem,  and  that  of  the  duplication  of 
the  cube,  gave  rise  also  to  the  loci  constructed  by  succeeding  mathe- 
maticians, and  called  the  conchoid  of  Nicomedes,  and  the  cissoid  of 
Diocles.  Besides  these,  which  were  called  loci  at  a  line,  similar  con- 
siderations led  afterwards  to  the  invention  of  loci  at  a  surface,  when  j^d  at  a 
the  possible  positions  of  a  point  lay  in  a  curved  superficies.  surface. 

To  the  active  minds  of  Plato  and  his  school  we  may  attribute  also  solid 
the  prosecution  of  *  Solid  Geometry.'  We  have  a  treatise*  by  ZENO-  geometry- 
DOEUS,  who  is  supposed  to  have  lived  somewhat  about  this  time,  in 
which  it  is  proved  that  the  content  of  the  sphere  is  greater  than  that 
of  any  other  solid  of  equal  surface.  This  is  preserved  by  Theon  in 
his  commentary  on  the  *  Almagest,'  and  is  the  oldest  work  on  geo- 
metry extant.  But  the  Platonists  pursued  this  subject,  and  investi- 
gated the  properties  of  the  five  regular  solids,  called  from  that  cause 
the  Platonic  bodies.  This  branch  could  not  previously  have  been 
much  attended  to,  for  Plato  (Rep.  lib.  7)  "  notes  it  defective,"  to  use 
Lord  Bacon's  phrase  in  his  *  Survey  of  Human  Learning.' 

In  the  passage  of  Plato  just  referred  to,  he  divides  mathematics  Astronomy, 
into  the  doctrine  of  planes,  or  plane  geometry ;  the  doctrine  of  solids ; 
and  the  doctrine  of  solids  in  motion.     This  last  division  is  meant  to 
describe  the  mathematical  part  of  ( Astronomy,'  viz.,  the  doctrine  of 


310 


GREEK  SCIENCE. 


Autolycus. 
B.  C.'  300. 


Cycle  of 
nineteen 
years 
invented. 
B.C.  433. 


the  appearances  presented  by  the  revolution  of  a  sphered  Thales,  or 
his  immediate  successors,  had  maintained  the  spherical  form  of  the 
earth,  and  imagined  and  named  the  most  important  circles  in  the 
sphere  of  the  heavens.  After  this,  the  application  of  geometry  to 
determine  the  risings,  settings,  and  motions  of  the  stars  was  an  obvious 
step,  and  seems  to  have  been  early  made.  It  does  not  appear  to  have 
led  to  any  very  recondite  consequences ;  and  may  be  adequately  judged 
of  from  the  ancient  and  curious  treatise  on  the  sphere  still  extant,  and 
written  by  AUTOLYCOS,  who  lived  about  the  time  of  Alexander.  For 
an  account  of  this  work,  and  of  other  early  Greek  astronomers,  see 
the.  *  History  of  Astronomy.' *  Of  Eudoxus,  one  of  the  most  emi- 
nent of  them,  we  may  further  notice  Delambre's  opinion,  that  he  pos- 
sessed an  artificial  globe,  such  as  we  may  conceive  the  skill  of  that 
time  able  to  produce ;  and  that  having  marked  upon  it  the  places  of 
the  stars,  with  no  great  exactness,  he  determined  their  risings  and 
settings  by  means  similar  to  what  is  now  understood  by  "  the  use 
of  the  globes."  The  results  of  this  method  he  published  in  a  work 
which  we  may  consider  of  great  importance,  as  having  given  rise  not 
only  to  the  poetical  paraphrase  of  Arctus,  but  to  the  valuable  com- 
mentary of  Hipparchus. 

The  other  astronomical  opinions  of  the  Greek  philosophers  were  less 
precise  and  correct.  The  true  system  of  the  universe  had  indeed  been 
maintained  by  Pythagoras,  but  the  minds,  even  of  philosophers,  were 
not  yet  ripe  for  it ;  and  except  that  it  was  occasionally  revived,  as  for 
instance  by  Aristarchus  of  Samos,  a  little  before  Archimedes,  it  slept 
till  the  time  of  Copernicus.  Aristotle  pretended  to  confute  it ;  and 
Plato's  opinions,  though  often  borrowed  from  the  Pythagoreans,  have 
no  tinge  of  that  part  of  their  philosophy.  Yet  he  is  said  to  have 
adopted  in  his  old  age  the  system  which  places  the  sun  in  the  centre 
of  the  universe.  He  had  also  the  merit  of  having  recommended 
mathematics  to  the  more  particular  attention  of  astronomers ;  but  ap- 
parently this  was  done  with  the  hope  of  discovering  imaginary  relations 
among  the  parts  of  the  universe :  such,  perhaps,  as  afterwards  haunted 
the  mind  of  Kepler;  and  though  unfounded  in  themselves,  led  him, 
by  singular  good  fortune,  to  the  true  laws  of  the  solar  system.  Eu- 
doxus, already  mentioned  as  the  disciple  of  Plato,  appears  to  be  the 
author  of  that  cumbrous  hypothesis  of  crystalline  spheres,  which  gene- 
rally, but  erroneously,  has  the  name  of  Ptolemy  attached  to  it.  It  is 
not  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  that  great  astronomer,  though  it  was 
adopted  by  Aristotle  and  others  of  the  ancients. 

The  most  important  practical  result  of  the  astronomy  of  those  times 
was  the  invention  of  the  cycle  of  nineteen  years  (tj/vea^Kcttr/jptc),  for 
the  purpose  of  making  the  solar  and  lunar  year  coincide.  It  is  said 
(Geminus,  c.  6)  to  have  been  produced  for  the  approbation  of  the 
Athenians,  by  METON  and  EUCTEMON,  and  adopted  B.  c.  433  ;  and  it 
so  far  answers  its  purpose,  that  it  is  still  in  use,  under  the  name  of 
1  Page  334  of  this  volume. 


MATHEMATICS.  311 

the  golden  number,  to  determine  the  new  and  full  moons,  on  which 
moveable  festivals  depend. 

The  Pythagoreans  had  paid  much  attention  to  arithmetic,  i.  e.,  to  Arithmetic, 
the  properties  of  numbers  ;  indeed,  they  attributed  to  numbers  a  mys- 
tical meaning,  which  is  not  very  intelligible.  The  Platonists  also 
pursued  this  subject,  and  invented  arrangements  of  numbers  into 
various  classes :  thus  they  were  called  odd  or  even,  perfect  or  imper- 
fect, polygonal,  which  included  triangular,  square  and  pentagonal, 
pyramidal,  &c.  Besides  these  speculations,  which  are  not  of  very 
material  consequence,  the  practical  art  of  performing  arithmetical 
operations  had  been  carried  to  a  considerable  extent,  as  we  shall  see 
hereafter. 

It  has  already  been  mentioned,  that,  from  the  time  of  Pythagoras,  Music. 
music  had  become  a  mathematical  science.  Though  there  seems  to 
be  some  error  in  the  account  of  the  inferences  which  that  philosopher 
drew  from  the  notes  struck  by  the  hammers  on  a  blacksmith's  anvil, 
the  general  fact  is  probably  true,  that  he  made  the  discovery  that  two 
musical  strings  which  gave  the  most  perceptible  concord  to  the  ear, 
exhibited  also  remarkable  mathematical  relations  to  each  other  in  their 
lengths  and  tensions.  This  curious  fact,  connected  with  the  great 
importance  which  the  Greeks  attached  to  music,  soon  led  to  a  variety 
of  speculations,  derived  from  these  mathematical  proportions,  which 
were  assumed  to  be  perfectly  exact.  This  accuracy,  however,  though 
a  proper  subject  for  theory,  is  not  the  foundation  of  practical  music : 
and  though  a  mathematical  exactness  in  concords  is  susceptible  of 
being  appreciated  by  the  ear,  it  is  rejected  by  the  practice  of  modern 
music.  Indeed,  the  unalterable  properties  of  numbers,  thus  curiously 
connected  with  one  of  the  most  exquisite  gratifications  of  the  senses, 
make  it  impossible  to  preserve  the  perfect  exactness  of  chords  in  every 
part  of  the  musical  scale.  Therefore,  though  the  ancients  reasoned 
upon  their  concords  as  perfect,  it  is  probable  that  in  practice  they  used 
them  imperfect.  The  latitude  which  this  allows  gives  rise  to  the 
different  expression  of  the  different  keys,  as  they  are  called,  which 
probably  correspond,  at  least  to  a  considerable  extent,  with  the  various 
modes,  Phrygian,  Dorian,  &c.,  of  the  ancient  music.  It  w'as  also  pro- 
bably this  capacity  of  the  ear  to  adapt  itself  to  concords  slightly 
imperfect,  which  caused  the  separation  into  two  sects  of  the  ancient 
theorisers  on  this  subject :  of  one  of  which  sects  Pythagoras  was  the 
founder,  as  Aristoxenus,  a  cotemporary  of  Aristotle,  was  of  the  other. 
While  the  former  made  the  simplicity  of  the  arithmetical  relations 
regulate,  as  it  were,  the  musical  ones ;  the  latter  appealed  more  to 
experiment,  and  placed  the  tones  at  equal  intervals  in  the  scale; 
perhaps  making,  much  in  the  same  manner  as  is  done  in  modern  keyed 
instruments,  their  defects  compensate  each  other.  It  seems  requisite, 
in  speaking  of  ancient  mathematics,  to  say  something  of  this  difficult, 
and  perhaps  uninteresting  portion  of  the  science,  as  it  was  by  them 
considered  a  most  important  branch ;  and  many  of  their  greatest 


312  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

mathematicians  have  written  upon  it  treatises  which  are  still  extant. 
Their  principal  researches  consisted  in  determining  the  value  of  the 
intervals  between  different  notes  of  their  scale,  and  arranging  them 
into  systems  of  four  contiguous  notes,  which  they  called  tetrachords : 
which,  however,  do  not  make  the  successions  of  the  notes  so  clear  as 
our  arrangement  of  them  in  octaves.  Any  further  discussion  of  this 
subject  might  be  considered  out  of  place ;  we  shall  only  notice,  that 
the  scale  above  referred  to  was  called  the  diatonic ;  that  besides  this 
they  had  the  chromatic,  in  which  all  the  half  notes  were  introduced ; 
the  old  enharmonic,  which,  according  to  Dr.  Burney,  resembled  the 
Scotch  scale ;  and  the  new  enharmonic,  which  contained  all  the  quarter 
notes,  and  to  which  we  have  nothing  exactly  corresponding.  It  ap- 
pears certain  that  the  music  of  the  Greeks  was  confined  to  melody,  or 
the  pleasing  succession  of  sounds ;  and  that  it  was  left  for  modern 
times  to  produce  what  we  now  call  harmony ;  that  effect  of  simul- 
taneous sounds  which  may  almost  be  considered  as  having  a  rightful 
claim  to  the  reward  offered  for  the  discovery  of  a  new  sense  of  plea- 
sure. 

Mechanics.  In  the  view  of  the  state  of  mathematics  in  the  time  of  Plato  we  can 
hardly  enumerate  the  two  sciences  of  mechanics  and  optics,  which  had 
scarcely  then  begun  to  exist,  though  they  soon  afterwards  engaged 
some  attention.  The  doctrine  of  motion,  indeed,  was  not  destined  for 
the  Greeks,  for  they  never  had  any  but  the  vaguest  notions  on  the 
subject,  and  continued  ignorant  of  the  first  law  of  motion,  "  that  a 
moving  body  will  go  on  uniformly,  except  so  far  as  it  is  acted  upon 
by  external  causes :"  nor  was  any  light  thrown  on  this  subject,  till  the 
time  of  Galileo.  In  the  '  History  of  Astronomy  n  the  reader  may  see 
the  speculations  of  Aristotle ;  and  a  fragment  on  this  subject,  which 
is  attributed  to  Euclid,  contains  nothing  more  definite  or  important. 
The  doctrine  of  equilibrium,  in  which  Archimedes  made  such  extra- 
ordinary progress,  seems  to  have  been  little  better  before  his  time. 
In  ARISTOTLE'S  mechanical  problems,  he  thus  accounts  for  the  fact 
that,  by  means  of  the  lever,  a  small  weight  may  move  a  larger  which 
is  at  the  end  of  a  shorter  arm.  The  extremities  of  the  arms  describe 
circles,  and  the  motion  of  a  point  in  a  circle  is  twofold ;  viz.,  a  motion 
perpendicular  to  the  radius,  which  is  according  to  nature,  and  a  motion 
towards  the  centre,  which  is  contrary  to  nature.  This  unnatural 
motion  is  smaller  in  a  larger  circle,  if  the  space  described  be  the  same ; 
and  hence  in  a  larger  circle  a  force  will  with  equal  ease  move  a  body 
through  a  larger  space.  It  is  manifest  that  such  reasoning  as  this  can 
lead  to  nothing ;  and  we  do  not  know  of  anything  better  till  the  time 
of  Archimedes. 

Optics-  Optics  was  in  a  similar  imperfect  state  at  this  time.    The  vagueness 

of  Aristotle's  speculations  on  the  subject  has  been  mentioned  in  the 

history  of  it  given  in  another  part  of  this  volume,2  and  the  reader  will 

there  find  an  abstract  of  the  remarkable  treatise  of  Euclid ;  the  earliest 

1  Page  346  of  this  volume.  2  Page  353. 


MATHEMATICS.  313 

which  we  have  on  this  science.  The  hypothesis  of  vision  which  is 
there  attempted  to  be  proved  is,  that  it  does  not  take  place  by  images 
coming  from  the  objects  and  entering  the  eye,  but  by  rays  proceeding 
from  the  eye  to  the  different  points  of  the  objects.  It  is  evident  that 
the  mathematical  results  would  be  the  same  on  either  supposition. 

The  subjects  which  we  have  mentioned,  geometry,  plane  and  solid, 
and  arithmetic,  in  the  department  of  pure  mathematics ;  astronomy, 
music,  mechanics,  and  optics,  in  that  of  their  application ;  formed  the 
exact  sciences  cultivated  by  the  ancients.  To  this  division  some  of 
their  authors  added  logistics  and  geodesy ;  the  former  indicating  the 
application  of  arithmetic  to  questions  respecting  material  objects  ; 
the  latter,  the  mensuration  of  land  by  geometry :  for  which  addition, 
however,  there  seems  no  necessity.  At  the  time  of  Plato,  some 
portion  of  these  sciences  seems  to  have  formed  a  common  part  of  a 
liberal  education :  see  the  dialogues  '  Meno,'  '  Erastse,'  and  '  Thea?tetus.' 
It  is  not  probable,  however,  that  any  extensive  information  on  such 
subjects  was  popularly  diffused.  Thucydides  seems  to  have  been 
ignorant  of  the  cause  of  a  solar  eclipse ;  and  Aristophanes  ridicules  the 
geometricians  and  natural  philosophers,  under  the  character  of  Socrates 
in  '  The  Clouds,'  and  of  Me  ton  in  '  The  Birds.' 

The  preceding  sketch  shows  how  nourishing  was  the  condition  of 
the  mathematics  among  the  Greeks  at  the  time  when  almost  every 
other  department  of  literature  and  art  was  at  its  greatest  splendour. 
Their  poetry,  eloquence,  and  sculpture  soon  began  to  decline ;  but  in 
the  usual  progress  of  the  human  mind  the  sciences  continue  to  advance 
after  these  aits  have  become  retrograde.  In  most  countries  a  short 
period  only  of  original  excellence  has  been  allowed  to  the  literature 
which  depends  upon  the  imagination.  The  exercise  of  that  faculty, 
like  the  liberty  of  a  turbulent  republic,  seems  to  lead,  after  a  few 
generations,  to  its  slavery;  but  the  reason,  a  better-governed  kingdom, 
goes  on  making  acquisitions  which  are  imperishable  and  perpetually 
accumulating.  The  science  and  literature,  of  which  Athens  had  been 
the  metropolis,  were  transferred  to  the  other  coasts  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean, and  particularly  fostered  by  the  successors  of  Alexander.  The 
encouragement  of  the  Ptolemies  produced  no  poets  who  are  now 
considered  as  great;  but  royal  patronage  may  be  more  successfully 
extended  to  men  of  science ;  and  the  mathematical  school  of  Alex-  school  of 
andria  exhibited  an  extraordinary  succession  of  remarkable  men.  The  A1e*andria. 
cloistered  walks,  and  public  halls,  and  ample  libraries  of  this  Egyptian 
college,  were  for  nearly  a  thousand  years  the  resort  of  the  most 
eminent  of  the  men  of  science  among  the  ancients ;  in  whose  hands 
the  exact  sciences,  though  often  stationary,  were  sometimes  advancing 
and  never  going  back. 

One  of  the  principal  founders  of  this  school  was  EUCLID,  whose  Euclid. 
*  Elements '  form  a  groundwork  of  geometry,  which  the  mathematical     B"  c*  300' 
world  has  hardly  yet  been  able  to  improve  upon.     Of  his  history  we 
know  little.     Pappus,  contrasting  his  character  with  that  of  Apol- 


314  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

lonius,  describes  it  as  kind  and  unassuming,  and  particularly  disposed 
to  encourage  mathematical  merit  in  others.  He  is  said  to  have  been 
attracted  to  Alexandria  by  the  patronage  offered  to  learned  men  under 
the  first  Ptolemy;  and  to  that  monarch,  when  he  had  expressed 
some  dissatisfaction  at  the  prolixity  of  the  reasonings,  through  which 
the  study  required  him  to  proceed,  Euclid  is  reported  to  have  repre- 
sented, that  "  there  was  no  royal  road  to  geometry."  Besides  the 
celebrated  *  Elements,'  he  was  the  author  of  mathematical  works  upon 
almost  every  branch  of  the  science  which  we  have  mentioned.  He 
wrote  four  books  'On  Conies ;'  a  treatise  'On  Loci  at  Surfaces ;'  and  one 
'  On  Porisms,' a  species  of  geometrical  proposition,  which,  after  being  long 
involved  in  obscurity,  was  elucidated  by  Robert  Simson,  and  after  him 
by  Professor  Playfair.  We  have  his  data,  and  a  '  Treatise  on  Divisions,' 
that  is,  on  dividing  a  figure  in  a  given  ratio  by  lines  drawn  under 
certain  conditions.  Another  work  which  Pappus  praises  much,  was 
an  arrangement  and  analysis  of  mathematical  paralogisms.  We  have 
already  referred  to  his  Optics,  of  which  science,  mathematically  con- 
sidered, it  is  by  no  means  improbable,  from  the  nature  of  the  treatise, 
that  he  was  the  inventor.  We  possess  also  a  work  on  Music  attri- 
buted to  him,  but  which,  Montucla  thinks,  consists  of  two  parts, 
the  first  written  by  an  Aristoxenian,  and  the  second  by  a  Pythagorean. 
In  the  latter  capacity,  Euclid  is  said  to  have  been  the  person  who 
first  demonstrated  that  the  Aristoxenian  method  of  proceeding  by 
tones  and  half  tones,  would  necessarily  give  the  octaves  out  of  tune. 
We  have  already  mentioned  the  fragment,  referring  to  mechanics, 
which  is  ascribed  to  Euclid ;  and  arithmetic  may  be  considered  as  the 
subject  of  the  7th,  8th,  9th,  and  10th  books  of  the  'Elements.'  In 
astronomy  we  have  a  work  of  his  upon  the  doctrine  of  the  sphere, 
entitled  '  Phenomena.'  This  last  science  was  one  of  those  which 

Astronomy  at  occupied  most,  and  most  successfully,  the  Alexandrian  mathematicians. 
Above  all,  the  importance  of  observation  began  to  be  better  under- 

Aristiiius      stood.     ARISTILLUS  and  TIMOCHARIS  for  a  long  course  of  years  made 

Timocharis.    observations  on  the  stars,  many  of  which  are  preserved  by  Ptolemy. 

Aratus.  The  poem  of  ARATUS,  so  popular  among  the  ancients,  and  which  was 
translated  by  men  of  no  less  name  than  Cicero  and  Germanicus,  was 
about  this  time  written  at  the  court  of  Antigonus  Gonatas.  And 

Ar»tarchus.  ARISTARCHUS  of  Sam os,  besides  his  method  of  determining  the 
distance  of  the  sun  by  the  dichotomy  of  the  moon,  mentioned  in  the 
4  History  of  Astronomy,' l  made  an  observation  of  the  solstice  281 
B.  C.,  and  is  remarkable  as  having  attempted  to  revive  the  true  doctrine 
of  the  universe  which  places  the  sun  in  the  centre.  This  we  learn 

Archimedes,  from  ARCHIMEDES,  of  whose  life  we  shall  now  collect  what  is  known, 
and  examine  the  improvements  of  which  he  was  the  author  in  the 
different  branches  of  science. 

This  extraordinary  man  is  said  by  Plutarch  to  have  been  a  relation, 
as  well  as  friend,  to  Hiero,  king  of  Syracuse,  and  flourished  under  the 
1  Page  335  of  this  volume. 


MATHEMATICS.  315 

long  and  peaceful  reign  of  that  prudent  monarch.  Though  the  Sicilian 
prince  reigned  at  the  time  when  the  contests  of  the  Romans  and  Car- 
thaginians were  becoming  a  struggle  for  existence,  and  in  the  situation 
where  the  rival  nations  most  naturally  came  in  contact,  he  kept  him- 
self pretty  well  out  of  the  vortex  of  wars  and  calamities,  into  which 
the  violence  of  his  neighbours  might  have  drawn  him  ;  and  the  warlike 
machines  which  the  great  mathematician  constructed,  to  prove  to  the 
king  the  resources  of  his  art,  found  no  employment  during  his  reign. 
Archimedes  appears  to  have  been  born  B.  c.  287,  a  little  before  Hiero's  Archimedes 
accession  to  the  crown.  His  youth  corresponded  with  the  time  of  bo™c<  287> 
Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  under  whom  Alexandria,  then  the  principal 
seat  of  science,  contained  several  of  the  mathematicians  whom  we  have 
already  mentioned.  To  this  school  he  travelled,  but  at  what  precise 
time  does  not  appear.  He  was  probably  too  late  to  be  a  personal 
scholar  of  Euclid ;  but,  among  the  other  mathematicians  with  whom 
he  became  acquainted,  he  frequently  in  his  works  mentions  CONON, 
with  particular  expressions  of  attachment.  Conon  is  known  to  have 
resided  in  Egypt,  under  Ptolemy  Euergetes,  in  honour  of  whose  queen 
he  formed  the  constellation  of  Berenice's  Hair.  It  is  said  to  have 
been  for  the  purpose  of  raising  water  out  of  the  canals  of  Egypt  that 
Archimedes  invented  the  machine,  which  yet  has  the  name  of  his 
screw ;  and  the  Arabian  historian  attributes  to  him  the  mounds  and 
bridges,  which  are  rendered  necessary  by  the  inundations  of  the  Nile. 

The  greater  part  of  his  life,  however,  appears  to  have  been  spent  at 
Syracuse ;  and  his  mathematical  researches  are  given  in  "  his  beloved 
Doric  dialect,"  as  one  of  his  ancient  commentators  calls  it ;  the  form 
of  Greek  which  was  spoken  in  Sicily,  and  with  which  the  pastoral 
poets  have  made  us  associate  something  of  picturesque  simplicity.  It 
was  there  that  he  pursued  his  investigations,  and  carried  forwards  the 
mathematical  knowledge  of  his  time  by  those  wide  advances,  which 
we  shall  shortly  mention. 

It  would  appear  that  then,  as  in  later  times,  mathematicians  used  to 
announce  their  discoveries  in  part,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  challenge 
the  ingenuity  of  their  contemporaries  by  what  they  kept  concealed. 
Archimedes  had  sent  to  Conon  a  long  list  of  propositions  on  various 
subjects,  of  which  he  required  the  demonstrations;  and,  it  would 
appear,  that  he  employed  the  artifice  of  stating  some  false  theorems 
along  with  the  true  ones:  "In  order,"  he  says,  "  that  if  any  assert 
themselves  to  have  discovered  the  whole,  and  produce  no  demon- 
strations, they  may  be  convicted,  as  pretending  to  have  done  what  is 
impossible."  These  discoveries  refer  to  the  area  of  the  parabola,  the 
surface  and  solidity  of  the  sphere  and  cylinder,  the  properties  of 
spheroids,  and  of  that  spiral,  which  is  called  indifferently  the  spiral 
of  Conon  or  of  Archimedes.  Conon,  however,  died  before  he  had 
obtained  the  demonstration  of  these  propositions,  to  the  great  grief  of 
Archimedes.  "  If  he  had  lived,"  he  says,  "  he  would  have  found  out 
these,  and  invented  more,  and  would  have  done  much  for  the  advance- 


316 


GREEK   SCIENCE. 


ment  of  geometry ;  for  I  well  know  his  uncommon  talents,  and  his 
indefatigable  industry  in  these  studies."  When  Conon  was  dead,  years 
elapsed  without  any  one  attempting  the  proposed  theorems.  The 
demonstrations  were  sent  by  Archimedes  himself,  at  different  times, 
to  Dositheus,  an  Athenian,  whom  he  knew,  as  he  tells  him,  to  be 
both  a  friend  of  Conon  and  a  lover  of  mathematics ;  and  who,  after 
receiving  a  part,  had  pressed  him  much  for  the  remaining  portions. 
These  successive  epistles  form  his  treatises  *  On  the  Quadrature  of  the 
Parabola,'  4  On  the  Sphere  and  Cylinder,'  '  On  Helices  or  Spirals,'  and 
'  On  Spheroids  and  Conoids.' 

Quadrature  The  'Treatise  on  the  Quadrature  of  the  Parabola,'  was  the  first 
of  parabola.  jnstance  jn  which  a  geometer  had  been  able  to  determine  the  exact 
space  bounded  by  a  curve  line ;  for  though  several  before  him  had 
pretended  to  assign  the  area  of  the  circle  and  of  portions  of  it,  their 
assumptions,  as  Archimedes  asserts,  were  inadmissible  :  and  their 
conclusions  must  have  been  false,  since  the  problem,  as  we  have 
already  observed,  is  not  soluble.  The  method  which  he  employs  is 
most  remarkable  for  its  ingenuity  and  novelty.  He  divides  the  para- 
bola into  an  endless  series  of  decreasing  terms ;  and  we  may  observe 
in  his  process  the  tendency  to  that  passage  from  finite  to  infinite,  by 
resolving  a  curve  into  its  smallest  portions,  which,  after  assuming 
various  forms  in  the  hands  of  Barrow,  Cavallerius,  Newton,  &c., 
produced  at  last  the  differential  and  integral  calculus.  And  though 
by  means  of  these  modern  methods,  a  mere  scholar  in  mathematics 
may  now  obtain  the  answers  to  such  questions  as  that  of  which  we 
are  speaking,  we  cannot  but  regret,  in  the  facilities  of  our  technical 
rules,  the  elegance  and  evidence  of  the  ancient  geometry.  Difficult 
as  the  problem  appears  in  the  way  in  which  Archimedes  has  treated 
it,  his  only  axiom  is,  that  of  two  unequal  spaces,  the  excess  of  the 
greater  above  the  less,  may  be  multiplied  so  as  to  exceed  any  given 
space;  and  from  this  he  proves,  by  the  strictest  reasoning,  that  a 
parabola  can  be  neither  greater  nor  less  than  two-thirds  of  the  paral- 
lelogram described  about  it. 

The  speculations  respecting  the  sphere  and  cylinder  are  those  with 
which  the  author  appears  to  have  been  most  delighted,  for  he  wished 
to  have  his  grave  marked  by  these  solids,  as  some  more  recent  mathe- 
maticians have  had  their  discoveries  engraved  on  their  tomb-stones. 
Indeed,  all  who  have  the  perception  of  geometrical  beauty,  must  be 
struck  both  with  his  results  and  his  methods.  As  he  had  been  the 
first  to  find  the  area  of  a  plane  curve,  he  here  finds  the.  surface  of  a 
curvilinear  solid ;  and  determines  the  sphere  to  be  two-thirds,  both  in 
content  and  in  surface,  of  the  cylinder  which  circumscribes  it;  with 
many  other  remarkable  properties  of  these  solids  compared  with  each 
other  and  with  the  cone. 

The  subject  of  spiral  lines,  was  also,  so  far  as  we  know,  altogether 
new.  In  the  one  which  he  has  examined  he  has  discovered  many 
remarkable  properties  with  respect  to  its  area,  tangent,  &c. 


Sphere  and 
cylinder. 


Spirals. 


MATHEMATICS.  317 

The  conoids  and  spheroids  are  solids  described  by  the  revolution  of  conoids  and 
a  conic  section  about  its  axis.    These  he  considers,  as  also  the  sections  sPheroids- 
which  are  made  in  them  by  planes,  the  solid  content  of  the  parabolic 
conoid,  &c.     This  subject  appears  to  have  given  him  more  trouble 
than  the  rest,  for  he  informs  his  correspondent  that  he  long  kept  back 
the  proofs  of  his  theorems  on  it,  because  he  found  some  difficulty  and 
j  doubt;    "at  least,"  he  says,  "going  over  them  more  carefully,  I 
|  satisfied  my  scruples." 

Besides  these  works  which  are  addressed  to  Dositheus,  we  have  his 
measurement  of  the  circle  ;  in  which  he  determines  the  circumference 
to  be  between  3  and  3f  times  its  diameter.  The  method  which  he 
uses  might  easily  be  extended  to  greater  accuracy  by  the  assistance  of 
a  proper  system  of  arithmetic. 

The  Greek  arithmetic  is  the  subject  of  his  '  Psammites,  or  Number-  Numbering 
ing  of  the  Sand,'  of  which  he  thus  explains  the  purpose  to  Gelo,  the  the  sand< 
son  of  his  king  Hiero,  and  associated  with  him  in  the  throne  :  "  There 
are  persons,  king  Gelo,  who  think  that  the  grains  of  the  sand  are  infi- 
finite  in  number ;  I  mean  not  merely  the  sands  about  Syracuse  and 
the  rest  of  Sicily,  but  those  of  the  whole  earth,  inhabited  and  uninha- 
bited. Others  think  that  they  are  not  infinite,  but  that  no  number 
can  be  expressed  which  shall  exceed  this  multitude.  Now,  I  shall 
attempt  to  show  by  geometrical  proofs,  which  you  will  be  able  to 
follow,  that  among  the  numbers  which  I  have  expressed  and  pub- 
lished in  my  books  to  Zeuxippus,  there  are  some  which  exceed,  not 
only  the  multitude  of  the  sands  which  would  fill  the  earth,  but  of 
those  which  would  fill  the  universe.  You  understand  that  by  the 
universe  is  meant,  by  most  astronomers,  the  sphere  of  which  the  centre 
is  the  earth,  and  the  radius  the  distance  of  the  sun  from  the  earth." 
He  then  proceeds  to  some  reasonings  to  establish  that  this  distance  is 
less  than  10,000  of  the  earth's  radii  ;l  and  to  show  that  if  we  conceive 
a  globe  of  this  magnitude  to  be  formed  of  grains  of  sand,  the  fortieth 
of  an  inch  in  diameter,  their  number  may  be  reckoned.  With  our 
present  mode  of  notation,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  increasing  numbers 
to  any  magnitude  whatever.  But  the  Greek  system,  less  perfect  than 
the  Arabic,  though  much  superior  to  the  numeration  of  other  countries, 
required  some  contrivance  to  carry  it  to  the  requisite  extent.  The 
Greek  geometer  answered  this  purpose  by  dividing  the  figures  into 
periods,  the  unit  in  each  period  being  a  myriad  myriad,  or  ten  million 
times  the  unit  in  the  preceding.  The  Greeks  could  thus  go  on  with 
their  numbers  as  far  as  they  might  choose,  though  still  their  method 
i  did  not  afford  them  the  same  facilities  which  we  derive  from  ours,  in 
|  arithmetical  operations. 

Of  the  astronomical  labours  of  Archimedes,  none  have  reached  our  Astronomy. 

1  It  is,  in  fact,  about  24,000  of  the  earth's  radii ;  but  this  difference  does  not 
1  effect  the  reasonings  of  Archimedes.  He  founded  his  calculations  on  the  supposition 
i  made  by  Aristarchus  of  Samos,  that  the  sun's  diameter  was  not  greater  than  thirty 
i  times  the  earth's. 


318 


GREEK  SCIENCE. 


Mechanics. 


Mechanical 
nventions. 


times,  if  we  except  the  method  of  determining  the  sun's  apparent 
diameter,  which  has  been  extracted  in  the  '  History  of  Astronomy.'1, 
The  accuracy  of  his  result  is  remarkable,  if  we  consider,  not  only  the 
imperfection  of  his  means  in  other  respects,  but  that  he  does  not 
appear  to  have  known  any  way  of  observing  with  one  eye  at  a  time, 
and  is  obliged  to  make  allowance  for  the  double  vision  of  his  two 
eyes.  He  was,  as  were  all  the  mathematicians  of  that  age,  a  diligent 
practical  observer ;  and  we  are  told,  that  he  thought  he  had  discovered 
the  distances  of  the  heavenly  bodies  from  the  earth,  and  from  each 
other ;  but  that  his  measures  were  rejected  by  the  Platonists,  as  not 
following  that  imagined  perfection  of  mathematical  proportions,  which, 
they  asserted,  must  necessarily  exist.  Cicero  speaks  of  an  orrery,  as 
we  should  call  it,  made  by  Archimedes,  and  exhibiting  the  motion  of 
the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  planets ;  which  he  uses  as  an  argument 
against  those  who  deny  a  Providence.  "  Shall  we,"  says  he,  "  attri- 
bute more  intelligence  to  Archimedes  for  making  the  imitation,  than 
to  nature  for  framing  the  original  ?" 

Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  part  of  his  discoveries  were  those 
which  he  made  in  mechanics,  and  his  applications  of  them  to  practice. 
We  have  already  seen,  that  before  his  time,  this  branch  of  science  did 
not  exist.  In  his  work  on  the  equilibrium  of  bodies,  he  gives  a  proof 
of  the  fundamental  properties  of  the  lever,  which  has  never  yet  been 
surpassed  in  simplicity  and  evidence  ;  and  applies  his  principles  to  find 
the  centre  of  gravity  of  various  spaces,  with  great  ingenuity.  In  his 
work  on  the  *  Floating  of  Bodies  in  Fluids,'  he  shows  a  complete  in- 
sight into  the  nature  of  fluid  equilibrium  ;  and  determines  the  position 
in  which  bodies  float  in  some  cases,  which  can,  by  no  means,  be  con- 
sidered as  easy,  even  to  modern  mathematics.  Indeed,  without  any 
addition  to  the  principles  of  Archimedes,  the  doctrine  of  equilibrium 
was  capable  of  being  carried  to  its  utmost  extent,  though  among  the 
ancients  it  appears  to  have  stopped  with  him.  We  are  told  by 
Pappus,  that  HERO,  a  little  after  his  time,  proved  in  what  cases  there 
could  be  an  equilibrium  in  the  five  mechanical  powers;  viz.,  the  lever, 
the  wheel  and  axle,  the  polyspact  or  pulley,  the  wedge,  and  the  screw ; 
and  that  he  reduced  them  all  to  one  in  principle ;  but  we  cannot  be 
certain  that  these  proofs  were  strict,  for  there  is  nothing  satisfactory 
in  the  demonstrations  given  by  authors  before  the  time  of  Stevinus  and 
Galileo ;  and  an  attempt  made  by  Pappas  himself  to  determine  the 
mechanical  advantage  of  the  inclined  plane  is  remarkably  erroneous. 

We  read  of  many  mechanical  contrivances  of  Archimedes,  some, 
probably,  merely  attributed  to  him  from  the  celebrity  of  his  name. 
For  instance,  an  invention  something  like  what  are  now  called  Chinese 
puzzles,  in  which  certain  angular  pieces  of  ivory  are  to  be  put  together, 
so  as,  by  different  arrangements,  to  produce  the  resemblance  of  various 
objects.  But  he  seems  to  have  turned  much  of  his  attention  to  the 
construction  of  machines  of  extraordinary  powers ;  and  he  boasted  of 
1  Page  337  of  this  volume. 


MATHEMATICS.  319 

the  unlimited  extent  of  his  art  in  the  well-known  expression,  "  Give 
me  a  spot  to  stand  on,  and  I  will  move  the  earth."  The  mechanicians 
of  that  time  employed  themselves,  not  merely  in  proving  the  possibility 
of  making  a  given  force  move  any  weight,  however  large,  but  studied  to 
combine  the  best  material  means  for  carrying  it  into  effect.  Athenaeus 
describes  a  ship  of  extraordinary  magnitude,  which  Hiero  caused  to  be 
made  with  twenty  ranks  of  rowers,  and  containing  so  enormous  a 
space,  as  to  have  on  board  gardens,  baths,  walks,  a  gymnasium,  a  large 
library,  &c.  This  unwieldy  mass,  Archimedes  is  said,  by  means  of 
some  mechanical  power,  to  have  enabled  Hiero  to  push  into  the  sea, 
by  his  individual  strength.  We  have  already  mentioned  the  screw  of 
Archimedes,  which  is  said,  also,  to  have  been  used  as  the  pump  of  this 
vessel. 

Though  the  study  of  mathematics  is  generally  considered  dry  and  His  habits, 
repulsive  by  persons  not  engaged  in  it,  there  seem  to  be  few  pursuits 
which  have  the  power  of  exciting  so  strong  and  engrossing  an  interest 
in  the  student.  Like  our  own  Newton,  when  absorbed  in  the  current 
of  discovery,  Archimedes  is  said  to  have  required  to  be  reminded  of 
the  common  duties  of  eating  and  drinking  by  those  about  him ;  and 
while  his  servants  were  placing  him  in  the  bath,  he  employed  himself 
in  drawing  mathematical  diagrams  in  the  ashes  which  were  spread  on 
the  floor,  or  in  the  oil  with  which  his  skin  was  covered.  "  So  that 
this  abstraction  made  people  say,  and  not  unreasonably,"  Plutarch  tells 
us,  "  that  he  was  accompanied  by  an  invisible  siren,  to  whose  song  he 
was  listening."  A  lively  fancy  might  easily  imagine  a  discoverer,  in 
the  enthusiasm  of  his  speculations,  to  be  absorbed  in  his  attention  to 
the  voice,  audible  only  to  his  ears,  which  reveals  to  him  truths  con- 
cealed from  all  the  world  beside. 

Another  story  told  of  Archimedes,  is  that  of  Hiero's  crown.  King  Hiero's 
Hiero  sent  to  a  goldsmith  a  certain  weight  of  gold,  to  be  made  into  a  crown- 
crown.  The  crown  was  sent  home  of  the  proper  weight ;  but  it  was 
suspected  that  some  silver  had  been  substituted  for  a  part  of  the  gold, 
and  Archimedes  was  asked  to  detect  the  quantity  of  the  fraud.  He 
had  sought  in  vain  for  some  time,  the  means  of  doing  it ;  when  one 
day,  going  into  the  bath,  the  rising  of  the  water  as  his  body  became 
more  immersed,  suggested  a  method,  which  he  instantly  saw  to  be 
infallible,  and  he  immediately  sprung  out,  exclaiming,  "  I  have  found 
it !  I  have  found  it !"  (evprjica,  evprjKa).  Vitruvius  explains  the  process 
by  which  he  is  said  to  have  solved  the  problem.  He  placed  the 
crown,  and  a  wedge  of  gold,  and  one  of  silver,  each  of  equal  weight,  in 
a  full  vessel  of  water.  In  each  case  the  quantity  of  water  which  ran 
over,  gave  the  size  of  the  mass ;  and  by  comparing  these,  he  found  the 
quantity  of  silver  in  the  crown.  The  principles  explained  in  his 
*  Equilibrium  of  Bodies  in  Fluids,'  afford  the  means  of  a  more  accurate 
and  scientific  solution,  which  we  should  have  been  disposed  to  attri- 
bute to  him,  but  for  this  testimony  to  the  contrary. 

We  now  come  to  the  last  and  most  remarkable  events  in  the  life  of 


320  GREEK   SCIENCE. 

Siege  of  Archimedes,  those  connected  with  the  siege  of  Syracuse,  which  ended 
Sy^£°2i2.  B.  c.  212.  Hiero  the  friend  of  Archimedes  had  closed  his  reign  a  few 
years  sooner.  Gelo  his  son,  and  apparently  the  pupil  of  the  mathe- 
matician, had  died  before  his  father.  Hieronymus,  the  son  of  Gelo, 
succeeded  to  the  throne,  but  not  to  the  popularity  of  his  grandfather ; 
he  shortly  fell  the  victim  of  a  conspiracy,  and  Syracuse  became  a  prey 
to  contending  factions,  who  soon  engaged  her  in  a  quarrel  with  the 
Eomans.  Marcellus  by  sea,  and  Appius  by  land,  laid  siege  to  the 
city,  and  it  would  probably  have  been  soon  taken  had  it  not  been  for 
the  extraordinary  resources  of  mechanical  skill  which  Archimedes 
produced  in  its  defence.  We  have  an  account  of  them  in  Polybius, 
one  of  the  most  intelligent  and  scrupulous  of  historians,  and  who  was 
bora  a  few  years  only  after  the  time.  He  says,  that  when  the  Roman 
fleet  appeared  sailing  towards  the  city,  it  was  assailed  at  a  distance 
from  the  walls  by  powerful  machines,  which  threw  darts  and  stones : 
that  when  it  got  too  near  for  the  range  of  these,  others  were  used  so 
actively  that  Marcellus  was  obliged  to  approach  the  city,  under  pro- 
tection of  the  night :  and  that  when  they  were  near  it,  such  an  artillery 
of  arrows  and  other  missiles  was  played  upon  them,  that  they  were 
unable  to  make  the  assault  and  suffered  great  loss.  To  protect  the 
besiegers  from  such  attacks  in  their  approaches,  they  built  upon  vessels, 
certain  machines  in  use  among  the  ancients,  and  called  sambucse. 
When  these  came  near,  there  suddenly  started  above  the  walls  large 
cranes  carrying  stones  of  ten  talents  and  heavy  masses  of  lead :  these 
were  brought  over  the  sambucas  and  then  let  fall,  so  as  to  break 
through  the  whole  structure  and  nearly  to  sink  the  ships  on  which  it 
was  carried.  Large  levers  were  also  made,  to  project  over  the  walls, 
from  which  iron  claws  were  suspended ;  by  these  the  vessels  were 
seized  by  the  prows  and  hoisted  half  way  out  of  the  sea,  and  then  let 
fall,  with  such  violence,  as  to  be  sometimes  dashed  under  water :  so 
that,  as  Marcellus  observed,  Archimedes  used  his  ships  like  buckets. 
By  these  contrivances  the  Roman  soldiers  suffered  so  much,  that  at 
last,  the  appearance  of  a  rope  or  a  pole  above  the  walls,  threw  them 
into  a  panic,  for  fear  of  some  new  instrument  of  annoyance. 

There  does  not  seem  to  be  any  reason  to  doubt  these  statements, 
which  are  confirmed  by  the  universal  consent  of  historians.  In  fact, 
while  modern  artillery  was  unknown,  much  greater  attention  was  paid 
to  improving  those  instruments  which  were  used ;  and  the  effects  pro- 
duced exceeded,  in  many  cases,  anything  that  we  should  think  possible, 
without  the  use  of  gunpowder.  The  powers  which  were  employed, 
were  sometimes  the  elasticity  of  large  beams  of  wood,  of  which  a 
gigantic  bow  was  made,  and  worked  by  machinery ;  and  sometimes 
the  forces  of  cords  of  different  substances,  which  being  violently 
twisted,  were  allowed  to  untwist,  and  thus  to  give  motion  to  a  lever 
inserted  in  them.  We  have  descriptions  of  such  machines,  by  Hero 
of  Alexandria,  who  lived  not  long  after  Archimedes.  With  respect  to 
the  latter  kind,  he  says  that  the  best  materials  for  the  cords,  are  the 


MATHEMATICS.  321 

muscles  of  the  shoulders  of  various  animals,  of  the  legs  of  stags,  and 
the  necks  of  bulls.  He  also  observes,  that  long  female  hair,  having 
been  saturated  with  essences,  possesses  a  powerful  elasticity  for  this 
purpose.  And,  in  considering  the  effects  ascribed  to  the  other  machines, 
we  must  recollect  how  much  smaller  the  Roman  vessels  were  than 
ours. 

Another  of  the  inventions  ascribed  to  Archimedes  at  this  siege  are  His  burning 
the  mirrors  with  which  he  is  said  to  have  burnt  the  Roman  fleet,  of  mirrors- 
which  relation  the  authenticity  is  more  disputed.  In  the  '  History  of 
Optics,'1  some  account  is  given  of  the  ancient  authorities  and  modern 
experiments  on  this  subject.  The  silence  of  Polybius  and  Livy  on 
this  point,  while  they  give  us  other  details  of  the  siege,  would  lead 
us  to  imagine  that  if  Archimedes  did  execute  something  of  the  kind, 
it  was  not  very  important  or  decisive.  And  at  the  same  time  the 
distinctness  of  the  latter  evidence,  and  the  demonstrated  practicability 
of  the  fact,  hardly  allow  us  to  suppose  that  it  is  entirely  without 
foundation.  Lucian  in  the  second  century  says,  that  Archimedes  by 
his  mechanical  skill  burnt  (KaTetyXefc)  the  Roman  ships.  Galen, 
a  little  later,  alludes  to  it  as  a  known  fact.  Anthemius,  the  architect 
of  Saint  Sophia,  in  the  sixth  century,  says,  that  it  is  undeniable,  and 
mentioned  by  numerous  historians;  and  explains  the  method  in  which 
it  might  be  executed  as  was  afterwards  done  by  Buffon  and  others. 
And  the  later  authors,  Zonaras  and  Tzetzes,  mention  it  with  an 
unusual  distinctness  of  reference  to  the  earlier  historians  Dio  Cassius, 
Diodorus,  &c.,  as  if  to  remove  any  doubt  which  might  exist.  So  that, 
perhaps,  we  may  come  to  the  conclusion  of  Gibbon,  who  says,  "  Since 
it  is  possible,  I  am  more  disposed  to  attribute  the  act  to  the  greatest 
mathematician  of  antiquity  than  to  give  the  merit  of  the  fiction  to  the 
idle  fancy  of  a  monk  or  a  sophist." 

By  the  ingenuity  of  Archimedes  the  siege  of  Syracuse  was  pro-  Taking  of 

tracted  for  some  time ;  but  at  last  the  fortune  of  the  Romans  pre-  Syracuse. 

vailed.     They  discovered  a  wreak  place  in  the  fortifications ;  made  an 

attack  when  the  citizens  had  relaxed  their  vigilance  in  the  celebration 

of  a  feast  to  Diana;  and  soon  became  masters  of  part  of, the  city. 

Marcellus  is  said  to  have  wept  at  the  approaching  ruin  of  this  populous 

and  opulent  state,   which,  old  in  prosperity,  and  rich  in  historical 

recollections,  was  now  tending  to  a  catastrophe  so  different  from  that 

of  its  former  great  siege  by  the  Athenians.     After  some  difficulties 

and  fluctuations  of  success,  the  unfortunate  town  was  taken  by  the 

Romans,  and  given  up  to  be  plundered  by  the  soldiers.     Archimedes, 

j  who  had  so  long  been  its  safety,  perished  in  the  confusion  of  the 

!  capture.     It  is  said  that  Marcellus  had  given  strict  orders  to  preserve 

j  a  person  of  whose  genius  he  had  had  such  extraordinary  proofs ;  but 

5  that  these  were  disregarded  in  the  licence  of  war.    While  the  Romans 

]  were  plundering  from  house  to  house,  Archimedes,  unaffected  by  the 

violence  which  surrounded  him,  was  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of 

1  Page  355  of  this  yolume. 
[G.  E.  P.]  Y 


322  GREEK   SCIENCE. 

a  mathematical  diagram ;  and,  when  a  soldier  burst  into  the  room, 
refused  to  attend  to  him,  till  he  had  finished  his  demonstration :  on 
which  the  man,  with  the  carelessness  of  human  life  which  such  scenes 
produce,  killed  the  venerable  philosopher  upon  the  spot.  According 
to  some,  when  about  to  be  put  to  death,  he  pleaded,  like  Lavoisier 
in  modern  times,  for  a  short  respite  to  finish  the  philosophical 
inquiries  on  which  he  was  engaged,  which,  as  in  that  case,  was  also 
refused. 

Death  of  Thus  died,  at  the  age  of  seventy-five,  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 

Archimedes,  mathematical  geniuses  of  any  age  or  nation.  Marcellus  was  grieved  at 
the  fmitlessness  of  his  attempt  to  save  him,  and  honoured  his  memory 
by  liberality  towards  his  surviving  relations.  A  sepulchre  was  built  for 
him  on  which  was  placed  a  sphere  and  a  cylinder,  figures  which  had 
been  the  subject  of  some  of  his  most  beautiful  discoveries.  But  neither 
his  mathematical  fame,  nor  his  defence  of  Syracuse,  seem  to  have  kept 
him  long  in  the  memory  of  his  countrymen.  When  Cicero,  travelling 
in  Sicily  less  than  140  years  afterwards,  inquired  for  his  tomb,  he 
was  told  by  the  Syracusans  that  nothing  of  the  kind  existed.  "  I 
recollected,"  he  says,  "  some  verses,  which  I  had  understood  to  be 
inscribed  on  his  monument,  which  indicated  that  on  the  top  of  it 
there  was  a  sphere  and  a  cylinder.  On  looking  over  the  burying- 
ground  (for  at  the  gate  of  the  city  the  tombs  are  very  numerous  and 
crowded),  I  saw  a  small  pillar  just  appearing  above  the  brushwood, 
with  a  sphere  and  a  cylinder  upon  it,  and  immediately  told  those  who 
were  with  me,  who  were  the  principal  persons  in  Syracuse,  that  I 
believed  that  to  be  what  I  was  seeking.  Workmen  were  sent  in  with 
bills  to  clear  and  open  the  place,  and  when  it  was  accessible  we  went 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  pedestal :  there  we  found  the  inscription, 
with  the  latter  portions  of  the  lines  worn  away,  so  that  about  half  of 
it  was  gone.  And  thus  one  of  the  most  illustrious  cities  of  Greece, 
and  one  formerly  of  the  most  literary,  would  have  remained  ignorant 
of  the  monument  of  a  citizen  so  distinguished  for  his  talents,  if  they 
had  not  learnt  it  from  a  man  of  a  small  Samnite  village." 

Archimedes  was  incomparably  the  most  inventive  and  original  of 
ancient  mathematicians,  and  seems  to  have  possessed  the  power  of 
applying  his  geometry  to  a  greater  diversity  of  subjects,  and  of  over- 
coming difficulties  of  a  more  various  kind.  If  he  had  had  one  or  two 
successors  of  equal  genius  with  himself,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  to  what 
extent  or  in  what  direction  the  science  of  the  ancients  would  have 
advanced  ;  but  it  must  certainly  have  anticipated  some  of  the  dis- 
coveries of  modern  times,  though  probably  by  methods  a  good  deal 
different  from  ours.  The  mechanics  of  equilibrium,  hydrostatics,  and 
catoptrics  might  have  been  brought  nearly  to  perfection,  for  they  were 
in  possession  of  the  principles  on  which  these  depend.  In  fact,  how- 
ever, no  advance  of  consequence  was  made  in  mixed  mathematics. 
In  astronomy  alone  had  they  adopted  the  only  source  of  knowledge, 
assiduous  and  accurate  observation.  And  the  discoveries  of  mathe- 


MATHEMATICS.  323 

maticians  from  that  time  were  made  almost  entirely  in  pure  geometry, 
and  even  these  are  very  limited,  if  we  except  what  was  done  by 
Apollonius ;  and  of  his  propositions  it  is  said  that  he  owed  some  to 
Archimedes,  whose  results  were  left  unedited  and  fell  into  his  hands. 

In  practical  mechanics  the  ancients  appear  to  have  gone  somewhat 
further  than  we  have  yet  mentioned.  Hero  seems  to  have  been  well 
acquainted  with  the  effects,  if  not  with  the  theory,  of  the  elasticity  of 
the  air ;  and  we  have  a  treatise  of  his  called  '  Pneumatica '  or 
*  Spiritalia,'  describing  divers  machines  depending  upon  that  property, 
and  most  of  them  containing  the  principle  of  the  syphon.  We  have 
also  a  treatise  by  him  '  On  Automatons ;'  his  automatons,  which  are 
principally  toys  moved  by  very  simple  machinery.  And  besides 
several  mechanicians  who  are  remarked  for  their  inventions  of  warlike 
machines,  CTESIBIUS,  the  master  of  Hero,  who  lived  apparently  about  ctesibius. 
150  B.  c.  invented  a  pump  which  is  yet  considered  of  a  very  efficient 
construction. 

In  order  to  finish  what  relates  to  the  great  age  of  Greek  geometry, 
we  shall  notice  some  of  the  eminent  characters  who  flourished  with,  or 
immediately  after,  Archimedes.  These  all  seemed  to  have  belonged 
to  the  college  of  Alexandria.  ERATOSTHENES  was  a  cotemporary  of  Eratosthenes, 
the  Sicilian  mathematicians,  and  was  a  remarkable  instance  of  great  B- c<  277~194- 
acquirements  in  very  different  branches  of  knowledge.  He  is  generally 
called  by  the  ancients  "  Eratosthenes  the  grammarian  "  or  philologer  ; 
and  though  he  comes  under  our  notice  as  a  great  geometer  and 
astronomer,  he  was  also  a  poet  and  an  antiquary.  It  is  seldom  that 
one  person  attempts  to  master  so  many  subjects,  without  incurring 
the  charge,  and  perhaps  the  danger,  of  being  superficial.  His  enemies 
gave  him  the  name  of  Beta,  as  occupying  only  the  second  place  in  his 
pursuits :  his  admirers  called  him  the  Pentathlete,  thus  comparing 
him  to  a  person  who  at  the  public  games  had  been  victorious  in  all 
the  subjects  of  emulation.  He  was  appointed  superintendent  of  the 
library  of  Alexandria,  under  the  third  Ptolemy  (Euergetes  246-221 
B.  c.) :  and  he  had  the  merit  of  inducing  that  monarch  to  place  in  the 
vestibule  of  the  museum  the  arrmllce,  or  combinations  of  graduated 
circles  which  were  the  principal  instruments  of  observation  among 
the  ancients.  These  instruments  were  about  20  inches  diameter,  and 
the  observations  made  with  them  are  quoted  in  the  '  Almagest.'  The 
mode  of  observing  was  by  placing  a  pin  on  one  limb  of  the  circle,  so 
that  its  shadow  might  fall  upon  another  at  the  opposite  extremity  of 
the  diameter,  and  thus  indicate  the  position  of  the  sun.  By  this 
means  Eratosthenes  is  said  to  have  found,  that  the  interval  between 
the  tropics  was  -j^  of  the  circumference,  which  makes  the  obliquity 
of  the  ecliptic  23J  51'  19*5".  His  measurement  of  the  earth  is 
remarkable  and  celebrated,  and  has  been  described  in  the  '  History 
of  Astronomy.'1  He  also  gave  determinations  of  the  magnitude  and 
distance  of  the  sun,  which  appear,  from  their  discordance  with 
1  Page  336  of  this  volume. 

Y2 


324  GREEK   SCIENCE. 

each  other,  to  be  erroneously  reported  to  us.  Besides  his  astronomical 
merits,  he  was  an  eminent  geometer.  He  turned  his  attention  to 
conic  sections ;  and  we  have  his  description  of  a  mesdabium,  or 
instrument  for  finding  any  number  of  mean  proportionals,  which  is 
ingenious,  though  it  is  said  to  have  been  ridiculed  by  Nicomedes ; 
who,  probably  soon  after,  invented  the  conchoid  for  a  similar  object. 
He  is  said  to  have  written  '  De  locis  ad  medietates,'  the  subject 
of  which  treatise  can  only  be  a  matter  of  conjecture;  and  he  is 
also  known  for  what  is  called  his  *  Sieve,'  which  is  a  method 
of  finding  prime  numbers.  We  possess  likewise  his  '  Catasterism,' 
which  is  a  description  of  the  constellations.  After  living  to  the 
age  of  eighty-three,  he  found  his  sight  fail  and  his  health  decay, 
and  came  to  the  resolution  that  life  was  not  worth  preserving  under 
such  circumstances.  He  died  by  voluntarily  abstaining  from  food, 
B.  c.  194. 

The  principal  remaining  name  which  offers  itself  to  our  notice  in 
us  the  Alexandrian  school,  is  the  illustrious  one  of  APOLLONIUS,  whom 
?c!28i-204.  antiquity  distinguished  by  the  name  of  "  The  Great  Geometer,"  and 
who  has  been  considered  with  corresponding  admiration  by  some  of 
the  most  profound  of  modern  mathematicians.  He  was  born  at  Parga 
hi  Pamphylia,  in  the  time  of  Ptolemy  Euergetes :  was  instructed  in 
mathematics  by  those  who  had  been  the  disciples  of  Euclid:  and 
flourished  at  the  museum  under  Philopater  (221  to  204  B.  c.).  We 
learn  from  Pappus  that  he  employed  himself  in  what  has  been  a 
favourite,  but  not  very  profitable,  speculation  of  the  most  acute 
mathematicians,  an  attempt  to  prove  the  elementary  axioms  on 
which  geometry  is  founded.  The  works  of  his  which  remain  are  a 
treatise  on  conic  sections.  The  four  first  books  of  this,  which  were 
all  that  were  known  in  Europe  till  1658,  contain  the  properties 
observed  previously  to  his  time ;  but  the  three  following  ones,  which 
were  brought  from  the  East  and  translated  from  the  Arabic,  give  his 
own  discoveries.  They  are  principally  on  the  greatest  and  least  lines 
which  can  be  drawn  from  any  point  to  the  curve  of  a  conic  section. 
They  show  wonderful  powers  in  the  management  of  the  ancient 
geometry,  and  though  it  might  be  imagined  that  the  instrument  was 
scarcely  capable  of  such  results,  they  lead  to  the  borders  of  the 
modern  theories  of  evolute  curves  and  centres  of  osculation.1  Besides 

1  The  history  of  the  recovery  of  these  books  is  remarkable.     Upon  the  syllabus 
given  by  Pappus  of  the  lost  books  of  Apollonius's  conies,  several   persons  had 
attempted  to  form  a  conjectural  restoration,  or  divination,  as  it  was  called.     In 
particular,  Viviani  had  been  for  some  time  silently  and  laboriously  engaged  in  this  „ 
investigation,  when  it  was  discovered  by  Borelli  (in  1658)  that  the  fifth,  sixth,  and 
seventh  books  existed  in  Arabic  in  the  Medicean  library.     Viviani  saw  himself  on  ; 
the  point  of  losing  the  credit  due  to  several  years  of  research  by  this  unexpected   ; 
discovery.     He,  however,  obtained  from  the  Grand  Duke  an  attestation  of  the  state  \ 
of  forwardness  in  which  his  own  MSS.  then  were,  signed  by  his  hand ;  and  an 
injunction  to  Borelli  to  keep  secret  his  translation  tiU  Viviani's   book  had  been    , 
published.     The  Divinatio  in  V.  Apollonii  Conicorum  appeared  in  1 659,  and  the  j 

V  - 


MATHEMATICS.  325 

this  treatise,  Apollonius  wrote  others  on  several  very  general  and 
difficult  problems  of  geometrical  analysis,  which  he  pursued  into 
all  their  detail  of  cases.  Their  titles  and  subjects  are  given  us  by 
Pappus.  Many  of  them  have  since  exercised  the  ingenuity  of  the 
most  skilful  of  modern  mathematicians.  For  instance,  the  problem  of 
4  Tactions,'  of  which  the  most  difficult  case  is  to  draw  a  circle  touch- 
ing three  given  circles,  has  been  solved  by  Vieta  and  Newton.  '  The 
Section  of  Ratio '  and  '  The  Section  of  Space  '  have  been  restored  by 
Halley.  This  problem  is  to  draw  a  line  through  a  given  point, 
cutting  segment  from  two  given  straight  lines  :  in  the  first  place  so 
that  they  may  have  a  given  ratio ;  in  the  next  place  so  that  they  may 
contain  a  given  rectangle.  In  *  The  Determinate  Section '  it  was 
required  to  find  a  point  in  a  straight  line,  such  that  the  rectangles  of 
its  distances  from  given  points  should  have  a  given  ratio :  this  wTas 
resolved  by  Dr.  Simson.  The  problem  of  '  Inclinations '  proposed 
to  draw  through  a  given  point  a  straight  line,  so  that  a  given  portion 
of  it  should  be  intercepted  between  two  given  straight  lines.  Some 
of  these  problems  had  been  solved  by  Euclid,  and  Pappus  blames 
Apollonius  for  the  harsh  manner  in  which  he  speaks  of  the  solution 
of  his  predecessor,  which  did  not  pretend  to  be  complete. 

Like  the  other  mathematicians  of  his  time  he  also  applied  to 
astronomy,  as  we  learn  from  his  having,  like  Eratosthenes,  a  sobriquet 
derived  from  a  Greek  letter.  He  was  called  Epsilon  (e)  from  his 
perpetual  attention  to  the  moon,  which  resembled  the  form  in  which 
that  letter  was  written.  After  his  time,  the  principal  progress  of 
Greek  mathematicians  was  made  in  astronomy.  Either  that  the 
powers  of  the  Greek  geometry  had  reached  their  limit,  or  that 
inventive  genius  became  more  scarce,  succeeding  generations  con- 
tented themselves  almost  entirely  with  commenting  upon  what  had 
been  done  by  the  giants  in  geometry  who  were  the  first  race.  Thus 
Hypatia  the  daughter  of  Theon,  Pappus,  Serenus,  and  Eutocius  wrote 
commentaries  upon  Apollonius ;  Eutocius  also  upon  Archimedes ; 
Theon  upon  Euclid :  and  it  is  from  such  of  these  as  are  still  extant 
that  much  of  the  preceding  information  is  derived.  They  Had  means 
of  knowledge  which  have  since  been  lost;  and  we  might  have  been 
able  to  give  a  much  more  complete  and  accurate  account  of  the 
extensive  series  of  inventions  which  the  old  mathematics  exhibited, 
if  time  had  spared  the  histories  of  this  science  by  Theophrastus  and 
Eudemus,  from  which  later  writers  seem  to  have  drawn  the  light 
whose  scattered  rays  reflected  from  them  we  have  been  attempting  to 
collect. 

translation  from  the  Arabic  in  1661.  The  comparison  of  the  conjectural  with  the 
ancient  Apollonius  is  to  the  credit  of  both.  Viviani's  propositions  are  more  varied 
and  extensive,  but  perhaps  those  of  the  ancient  geometer  are  more  recondite  and 
difficult 


GREEK  PHYSICS. 

BY 

PETER  BARLOW,  ESQ.,  F.RS., 

PROFESSOR  AT  THE  ROYAL  MILITARY   ACADEMY,   WOOLWICH; 
AND 

THE  LATE  REV.  FRANCIS  LUNN,  M.A.,  F.R.S., 

ST.  JOHN'S  COLLEGE,   CAMBRIDGE. 


REPRINTED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  EDITION. 


THE  Historical  Introductions,  prefixed  by  Professor  BARLOW  to  his  Treatises  on 
the  Physical  Sciences,  contained  in  the  Second  Division  of  the  Encyclopedia  Metro- 
politana,  are  frequently  referred  to  in  Professor  WHEWELL'S  History  of  Greek 
Mathematics,  which  precedes  this  article'.  The  following-  passages  have,  on  that 
account,  been  extracted  from  those  Treatises  and  appended  here,  for  the  sake  of  easy 
reference.  The  last  of  the  six  extracts  is  made  from  the  '  History  of  Electricity,' 
by  the  late  Rev.  FRANCIS  LUNN.  The  reader  who  desires  further  information  than 
is  afforded  by  the  passages  now  cited,  is  referred  to  the  History  of  Greek  Physics, 
contained  in  the  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  by  Professor  WHEWELL. — 
EDITOR. 


GREEK  PHYSICS. 

I.  ASTRONOMY. 

IT  would  be  useless,  if  even  the  nature  of  our  work  would  admit  of  it,  General 
to  attempt  to  trace  the  history  of  this  science  from  its  earliest  state  of view* 
infancy,  which  is  probably  nearly  coeval  with  that  of  society  itself; 
at  least  if  we  regard  the  rude  observations  of  shepherds  and  herdsmen 
as  exhibiting  the  first  dawn  of  astronomy.  A  man  must  be  strangely 
divested  of  the  curiosity  peculiar  to  his  species,  who,  while  exposed 
to  the  varying  canopy  of  the  heavens,  through  successive  nights  and 
seasons,  could  suffer  such  a  brilliant  spectacle  to  pass  repeatedly  before 
him,  without  noticing  the  fixed  or  variable  objects  there  presented  to 
his  view ;  and  his  attention,  once  drawn  to  a  contemplation  of  the  fir- 
mament, he  would  remark  the  invariable  position  of  the  greater  number 
of  those  bodies  with  regard  to  each  other ;  the  irregular  motion  of 
others ;  and  hence,  by  some  denomination  or  other,  we  should  have  a 
distinction  made  between  what  we  now  call  the  fixed  stars  and  the 
planets ;  while  the  sun  and  moon  are,  in  their  appearances,  sufficiently 
distinct  from  the  rest  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  to  have  called  for  a 
farther  distinguishing  appellation,  and  to  have  claimed  the  particular 
regard  of  these  rude  observers. 

Such  was  probably  the  origin  of  astronomy ;  and  in  this  state,  in 
all  likelihood,  it  might  remain  for  many  ages,  and  in  many  countries 
unknown  to  and  unconnected  with  each  other.  The  length  of  the 
year,  the  duration  of  a  lunar  revolution,  the  particular  rising  of  certain 
stars  at  certain  seasons,  and  a  few  other  common  and  obvious  phe- 
nomena, might  therefore  be  predicted  with  a  certain  degree  of  accu- 
racy, long  before  those  observations  assumed  anything  like  a  scientific 
form,  and  long  anterior  to  that  time  from  which  we  date  the  origin  of 
astronomy  as  a  science,  properly  so  called. 

The  honour  of  being  the  first  inventors  of  this  sublime  study  has  Claims  of  the 
been  attributed  to  various  nations ;  the  Chaldeans,  the  Egyptians,  the 
Chinese,  the  Indians,  have  each  had  their  advocates  amongst  our  as- 
tronomical historians ;  and  even  a  certain  unknown  people  have  been 
created  by  the  enthusiasm  of  some  writers,  of  whom  all  traces  are 
supposed  to  have  been  long  lost,  but  to  whom  all  original  knowledge 
of  astronomy  has  been  attributed.  The  more  closely,  however,  we 
examine  the  claims  of  these  actual  or  imaginary  people,  the  more  we 
shall  be  convinced  that  their  astronomy  consisted  of  little  more  than 
we  have  indicated  above ;  viz.,  a  tolerable  approximation  to  certain 
periods,  and  to  the  reappearance  of  certain  phenomena,  that  required 
nothing  more  than  a  continued  and  patient  observation  of  stated  occur- 


330 


GREEK   SCIENCE. 


rences,  which,  as  we  have  observed,  could  not  long  remain  unnoticed 
even  in  the  most  infant  state  of  society. 

Egyptians.  We  may  judge  of  the  state  of  Egyptian  astronomy  from  the  circum- 
stance of  Thales  having  first  taught  them  how  to  find  the  heights  of 
the  pyramids  from  the  length  of  their  shadows.  It  is  true  that  they 
had  some  idea  of  the  length  of  the  year,  and  had,  in  a  certain  measure, 
approximated  towards  a  determination  of  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic, 
or  of  the  path  of  the  sun,  which  they  stated  to  be  24°.  The  Chaldeans 
appear  to  have  made  some  rude  observations  on  eclipses,  but  still  little 
scientific  knowledge  can  be  attributed  to  this  people ;  who,  after  ob- 
serving these  phenomena,  were  contented  to  explain  them  by  teaching 
that  the  two  great  luminaries  of  the  heavens  were  only  on  fire  on  one 
side,  and  that  eclipses  were  occasioned  by  the  accidental  turning  of 
their-  dark  sides  towards  us.  And  again,  that  these  bodies  were 
carried  round  the  heavens  in  chariots,  close  on  all  sides  except  one,  in 
which  there  was  a  round  hole,  and  that  a  total  or  partial  eclipse  was 
occasioned  by  the  complete  or  partial  shutting  of  this  aperture.  Si- 
milar absurd  and  extravagant  notions  will  be  found  amongst  all  the 
early  pretenders  to  the  study  of  astronomy ;  but  we  cannot  concede  to 
such  knowledge  and  pretences  the  term  science ;  they  had,  in  fact,  no 
science,  they  had  amassed  together  a  number  of  rude  observations,  and 
had  been  thus  enabled  to  determine  certain  periods,  and  to  predict 
some  few  phenomena;  but  we  have  no  proof,  nor  even  any  reason 
whatever  to  imagine,  from  any  facts  that  have  been  handed  down  to 
us,  that  these  predictions  rested  upon  any  other  basis  than  that  of 
simply  observing  the  repeated  returns  of  these  appearances  within 
certain  periods. 

If  to  the  knowledge  above  indicated,  we  add  an  arbitrary  collection 
of  certain  clusters  or  groups  of  stars  into  constellations ;  the  division 
of  the  zodiac  into  twelve  signs,  corresponding  to  the  twelve  months  of 
the  year ;  into  twenty-seven  or  twenty-eight  hours,  answering  to  the 
daily  motion  of  the  moon ;  an  obscure  idea  of  the  revolution  of  the 
earth  upon  its  axis,  which  was  afterwards  lost;  a  knowledge  of  five 
planets;  and  some  contradictory  notions  respecting  the  nature  and 
motion  of  comets,  we  shall  have  a  pretty  correct  picture  of  the  state 
of  astronomy  as  it  was  received  amongst  the  Greeks;  from  whom  it 
first  derived  its  scientific  character.  It  is,  therefore,  only  from  this 
period  that  we  shall  commence  our  historical  sketch. 

Thales  is  generally  considered  as  the  founder  of  astronomy  amongst 
the  Greeks.  This  philosopher,  who  must  have  flourished  about  600 
years  before  the  commencement  of  the  Christian  era,  is  said  to  have 
taught  that  the  stars  were  fire,  or  that  they  shone  by  means  of  their 
own  light ;  the  moon  received  her  light  from  the  sun,  and  that  she 
became  invisible  in  her  conjunctions,  in  consequence  of  being  hidden 
or  absorbed  in  the  solar  rays,  which  it  must  be  acknowledged  is  but 
an  obscure  way  of  saying  that  she  then  turned  towards  us  her  unen- 
lightened hemisphere.  He  taught  farther  that  the  earth  is  spherical, 


Astronomy 
as  it  was 
received  by 
the  early 
Greeks. 


Thales. 
B.  c.  600. 


ASTRONOMY.  331 

and  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  world ;  he  divided  the  heavens,  or 
rather  found  them  divided  by  five  circles :  the  equator,  the  two  tropics, 
and  the  arctic  and  antarctic  circles.  The  year  he  made  to  consist  of 
365  days ;  and  determined  "  the  motion  of  the  sun  in  declination." 
What  is  meant  by  this  expression  is  not  very  easy  to  comprehend ; 
if  it  only  means  that  he  discovered  such  a  motion,  it  can  scarcely  be 
considered  as  correct,  as  it  must  have  been  known  prior  to  his  time ; 
viz.,  to  the  first  observers ;  and  it  cannot  mean  that  he  laid  down  rules 
for  computing  it,  as  we  have  every  reason  to  know  that  the  most 
simple  principles  of  trigonometry  were  not  propagated  till  many  cen- 
turies after  his  time. 

Thales  is  also  said  to  have  first  observed  an  eclipse,  and  to  have  Predicts  an 
predicted  that  celebrated  one  which  terminated  the  war  between  the  ecllPse- 
Medes  and  the  Lydians ;  an  eclipse  on  which  much  has  been  written, 
but  no  very  satisfactory  conclusion  arrived  at.  Herodotus  says,  "  it 
happened  that  the  day  was  changed  suddenly  into  night,  a  change 
which  Thales  the  Milesian  had  announced  to  the  people  of  Ionia,  as- 
signing for  the  limit  of  his  prediction,  the  year  in  which  the  change 
actually  took  place."  Thales  had  therefore  neither  predicted  the  day 
nor  the  month ;  and,  in  all  probability,  he  had  no  other  principle  to 
proceed  upon,  than  the  Chaldean  period  of  eclipses  already  alluded  to 
in  the  preceding  part  of  this  article. 

The  pointed  declaration  of  the  historian,  that  the  limits  assigned  by 
the  astronomer  for  the  appearance  of  this  phenomenon  was  the  year 
in  which  it  happened,  is  a  pretty  obvious  proof  of  the  low  state  of 
astronomical  science  at  this  time,  and  it  would  be  of  little  importance 
whether  the  eclipse  was  itself  partial  or  total ;  but  as  there  is  little 
doubt  that  such  an  event  actually  took  place,  it  becomes  a  matter  of 
high  importance  in  chronology,  to  ascertain  whether  it  was  such  as  it 
is  described,  viz.,  a  total  eclipse;  for  no  partial  obscuration  of  the 
sun's  light  would  accord  with  the  description  of  Herodotus,  of  the  day 
being  suddenly  changed  into  night ;  and  such  a  phenomenon  in  any  par- 
ticular place  being  an  extremely  rare  occurrence,  it  would,  if  correct, 
enable  us  to  determine  not  only  the  year,  but  the  very  day^  and  hour  at 
which  it  happened,  and  thus  furnish  at  least  one  indisputable  period  in 
chronology  and  history. 

Various  dates  have  been  assigned  to  this  eclipse.     Pliny  places  it  in  Dates 
the  fourth  year  of  the  forty-eighth  Olympiad  which  answers  to  the  ^jfe 
year  585  B.C.  ('  Hist.  Nat.'  lib.  2,  cap.  12) ;  a  similar  opinion  has  been 
advanced  by  Cicero  ('  De  Divinat.'  lib.  1,  §  49),  and  probably  by 
Eudemus  ('  Clement.  Alex.  Strom.'   lib.    1,  p.   354) ;    by  Newton 
('  Chron.  of  Anc.   Kings/  amended) ;    Riccioli    ('  Chron.  Reform,' 
vol.  i.  p.  228);  Desvignoles,   ('Chronol.'  lib.   4,  cap.  5,  §  7,  &c.); 
and  by  Brosses  ('  Mem.  de  1'Acad.  des  Belles  Lettres,'  torn.  xxi. 
Mem.  p.  33). 

Scaliger,  in  two  of  his  writings  ('Animad.  ad  Euseb.,'  p.  89,  and 
in  'OXv/Lt.  avaypatyr)'},  has  adopted  also  the  opinion  of  Pliny;  but 


332  GREEK   SCIENCE. 

in  another  work  ('  De  Emen.  Temp,  in  Can.  Isag.'  p.  321),  he  fixes 
the  date  of  this  eclipse  to  be  the  1st  of  October,  583  B.C.  Calvisius 
states  it  in  his  '  Opus  Chron.,'  to  have  taken  place  in  607  B.  c.  Pe- 
taviussays  it  happened  July  9th,  597  B.C.  (*  De  Doct.  Temp.'  lib.  10, 
cap.  1),  which  date  has  likewise  been  adopted  by  Marsham,  Bouhier, 
Corsini,  and  by  M.  Larcher  the  French  translator  of  Herodotus  (torn.  i. 
p.  335.)  Usher  is  of  opinion  that  it  happened  601  B.  c. ;  and  Bayer, 
May  18,  603  B.  c. ;  which  latter  opinion  has  been  supported  by  two 
English  astronomers,  Costard  and  Stukeley  ('Phil.  Trans/  for  1753). 
But  Volney  attempts  to  show,  in  his  '  Chronologic  d'Herodote,'  that 
it  could  be  no  other  than  the  eclipse  which  happened  February  3rd, 
626  B.  c. 

Mr.  F.  Bailly  has  examined  with  great  care  and  labour  the  proba- 
bility of  these  several  statements,  from  which  it  appears,  that  most  of 
the  eclipses  above  alluded  to  happened  under  circumstances  which 
render  it  absolutely  impossible  any  of  them  should  be  that  alluded  to 
by  Herodotus ;  most  of  them  were  not  even  visible  in  that  country, 
which  must  necessarily  have  been  the  scene  of  action  between  the 
Medes  and  the  Lydians,  and  none  of  them  was  total  in  those  places. 
He  has,  therefore,  with  great  perseverance,  by  means  of  the  latest  as- 
tronomical tables  of  the  '  Bureau  des  Longitudes,'  computed  backward 
to  find  whether  any  eclipse  of  the  sun  actually  happened  within  the 
probable  limits  of  the  event  recorded  by  the  historian,  arid  the  result 
of  his  research  is,  that  on  the  10th  of  September,  610  B.  c.,  there 
was  a  solar  eclipse,  which  was  total  in  some  parts  of  Asia  Minor ; 
and  which,  he  therefore  concludes,  with  great  probability,  was  the 
identical  one  referred  to  by  Herodotus.  Admitting,  therefore,  the 
conclusion,  we  have  one  decided  point  of  time  to  which  we  are 
enabled  to  refer  with  confidence,  at  which  time,  the  state  of  astro- 
nomy is  known  to  have  been  such  as  we  have  described.  See  'Phil. 
Trans.'  for  1811. 

Anaximan-  The  successors  of  Thales,  Anaximander,  Anaximenes,  and  Anaxa- 
goras,  contributed  considerably  to  the  advancement  of  astronomy, 
^e  ^rst  *s  sa^  *°  nave  mvented  or  introduced  the  gnomon  into 
Greece ;  to  have  observed  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic ;  and  taught 
that  the  earth  was  spherical,  and  the  centre  of  the  universe,  and  that 
the  sun  was  not  less  than  it.  He  is  also  said  to  have  made  the  first 
globe,  and  to  have  set  up  a  sun-dial  at  Lacedaemon,  which  is  the  first 
we  hear  of  among  the  Greeks ;  though  some  are  of  opinion  that  these 
pieces  of  knowledge  were  brought  from  Babylon  by  Pherecydes,  a 
contemporary  of  Anaximander.  Anaxagoras  also  predicted  an  eclipse 
which  happened  in  the  fifth  year  of  the  Peloponnesian  war ;  and  taught 
that  the  moon  was  habitable,  consisting  of  hills,  valleys,  and  waters, 
like  the  earth.  His  contemporary  Pythagoras,  however,  greatly  im- 
proved not  only  astronomy  and  mathematics,  but  every  other  branch 
of  philosophy.  He  taught  that  the  universe  was  composed  of  four 
elements,  and  that  it  had  the  sun  in  the  centre ;  that  the  earth  was 


ASTRONOMY.  333 

round,  that  we  had  antipodes ;  and  that  the  moon  reflected  the  rays 
of  the  sun ;  that  the  stars  were  worlds,  containing  earth,  air,  and 
ether ;  that  the  moon  was  inhabited  like  the  earth ;  and  that  the 
comets  were  a  kind  of  wandering  stars,  disappearing  in  the  superior 
parts  of  their  orbits,  and  becoming  visible  only  in  the  lower  parts  of 
them.  The  white  colour  of  the  milky-way  he  ascribed  to  the  bright- 
ness of  a  great  number  of  small  stars ;  and  he  supposed  the  distances 
of  the  moon  and  planets  from  the  earth  to  be  in  certain  harmonic  pro- 
portion to  one  another.  He  is  said  also  to  have  exhibited  the  oblique 
course  of  the  sun  in  the  ecliptic  and  the  tropical  circles,  by  means  of 
an  artificial  sphere ;  and  he  first  taught  that  the  planet  Venus  is  both 
the  evening  and  morning  star.  This  philosopher  is  said  to  have  been 
taken  prisoner  by  Cambyses,  and  thus  to  have  become  acquainted 
with  all  the  mysteries  of  the  Persian  magi ;  after  which  he  settled  at 
Crotona  in  Italy,  and  founded  the  Italian  sect. 

About  440  years  before  the  Christian  era,  Philolaus,  a  celebrated  Phiioiaus. 
Pythagorean,  asserted  the  annual  motion  of  the  earth  round  the  sun ;  B' c'  441 
and  soon  after  Hicetas,  a  Syracusan,  taught  its  diurnal  motion  on  its 
own  axis.  About  this  time  also  flourished  Meton  and  Euctemon  at 
Athens,  who  took  an  exact  observation  of  the  summer  solstice  432 
years  before  Christ ;  which  is  the  oldest  observation  of  the  kind  we 
have,  excepting  some  doubtful  ones  of  the  Chinese.  Meton  is  said  to 
have  composed  a  cycle  of  nineteen  years,  which  still  bears  his  name ; 
and  he  marked  the  risings  and  settings  of  the  stars,  and  what  seasons 
they  pointed  out :  in  all  of  which  he  was  assisted  by  his  companion 
Euctemon.  The  science,  however,  was  obscured  by  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle, who  embraced  the  system  afterwards  called  the  '  Ptolemaic,' 
which  places  the  earth  in  the  centre  of  the  universe. 

After  Philolaus,  the  next  astronomer  we  meet  with  of  great  repu-  Eudoxus. 
tation  is  Eudoxus,  who  flourished  370  B.C.  He  was  a  contemporary  B-c-370- 
with  Aristotle  though  considerably  older,  and  is  greatly  celebrated  for 
his  skill  in  this  science.  He  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  to  apply 
geometry  to  astronomy,  and  is  supposed  to  be  the  inventor  of  many  of 
the  propositions  attributed  to  Euclid.  Having  travelled  into  Egypt 
in  the  early  part  of  his  life,  he  obtained  a  recommendation'  from  Age- 
silaus  to  Nectanebus,  king  of  Egypt,  and  by  his  means  got  access  to 
the  priests,  who  were  then  held  to  have  great  knowledge  of  astronomy ; 
after  which  he  taught  in  Asia  and  Italy.  Seneca  tells  us,  that  he 
brought  the  knowledge  of  astronomy,  i.  e.,  of  the  planetary  motions, 
from  Egypt  into  Greece ;  and  according  to  Archimedes,  his  opinion  was, 
that  the  diameter  of  the  sun  was  nine  times  that  of  the  moon.  He  was 
also  acquainted  with  the  method  of  drawing  a  sun-dial  on  a  plane. 

Soon  after  Eudoxus,  we  meet  with  Calippus,  whose  system  of  the  Caiippus. 
celestial  sphere  is  mentioned  by  Aristotle ;  but  he  is  better  known  for     B' c<  33U- 
a  period  of  seventy-six  years,  containing  four  corrected  Metonic  periods, 
and  which  had  its  beginning  at  the  summer  solstice,  in  the  year  330 
B.  c.     And  it  was  about  this  time,  or  rather  earlier,  that  the  Greeks 


334  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

having  begun  to  plant  colonies  in  Italy,  Gaul,  and  Egypt,  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  Pythagorean  system,  and  the  notions  of  the  ancient 
Druids  concerning  astronomy. 

Autoiycus.  Passing  over  the  names  of  various  other  astronomers  of  this  period, 
who  appear  to  have  done  very  little  towards  the  advancement  of  the 
science,  we  come  to  Autoiycus,  the  most  ancient  writer  whose  works 
have  been  handed  down  to  our  time.  He  wrote  two  books,  viz.,  '  Of 
the  Sphere  which  moves,'  and  the  other,  *  On  the  Risings  and  Settings 
of  the  Stars.'  These  works  were  composed  about  300  B.  c. 

We  have  now  passed  over  a  period  of  three  hundred  years  from  the 
time  of  Thales,  and,  therefore,  by  making  a  few  extracts  from  these 
works  of  Autoiycus,  we  shall  be  enabled  to  form  some  idea  of  the 
progress  of  astronomy  during  this  period.  In  the  work  on  the  move- 
able  sphere,  we  have  several  propositions,  of  which  the  following  are 
the  most  important : — 

Earliest  work  1.  If  a  sphere  move  uniformly  about  its  axis,  all  the  points  on  its 
sur^ace  which  are  not  in  its  axis,  will  describe  parallel  circles,  having 
for  their  common  poles,  those  of  the  sphere  itself,  and  of  which  all  the 
planes  will  be  perpendicular  to  the  axis. 

2.  All  these  points  will  describe,  of  their  respective  circles,  similar 
arcs  in  equal  times. 

3.  Reciprocally,  similar  arcs  will  indicate  equal  time. 

4.  If  a  great  fixed  circle,  perpendicular  to  the  axis,  divide  the  sphere 
into  two  hemispheres,  the  one  visible,  the  other  invisible,  and  that  the 
sphere  turns  about   its   axis,   those   points  on  the  surface  that  are 
hidden  will  never  rise,  and  those  that  are  visible  will  never  set.     This 
is  what  we  now  denominate  a  parallel  sphere ;  the  great  fixed  circle 
corresponding  with  our  equator. 

5.  If  a  great  circle  pass  through  the  poles,  all  the  points  of  the 
surface  will  rise  and  set  alternately.     This  corresponds  to  our  horizon, 
and  to  our  right  sphere. 

6.  If  the  great  circle  be  oblique  to  the  axis,  it  will  touch  two  equal 
parallel  circles ;  of  which,  that  adjacent  to  the  one  pole  will  be  always 
apparent,  the  other  always  invisible. 

The  first  of  these  circles  was  called  by  the  Greeks  (although  not  by 
this  author),  as  we  still  denominate  it,  the  arctic  circle,  and  the  other 
the  antarctic  circle. 

7.  If  the  horizon  be  oblique,  the  circles,  perpendicular  to  the  axis, 
will  always  have  their  points  of  rising  and  setting  in  the  same  points 
of  the  horizon,  to  which  they  are  all  equally  inclined. 

8.  The  great  circles  which  touch  the  arctic  and  antarctic  circle,  will, 
during  the  complete  revolution  of  the  sphere,  twice  coincide  with  the 
horizon. 

9.  In  the  oblique  sphere,  of  all  the  points  which  rise  at  the  same 
instant,  those  which  are  nearest  to  the  visible  pole  will  set  last ;  and 
of  the  points  which  set  at  the  same  instant,  those  that  are  nearest  the 
same  pole  will  rise  first. 


ASTRONOMY.  335 

10.  In  the  oblique  sphere,  every  circle  which  passes  through  the 
poles,  will  be  perpendicular  to  the  horizon  twice  in  the  course  of  one 
complete  revolution. 

We  omit  some  other  propositions  of  this  author,  which  are  of  less  ^e.™^o°rn 
importance  than  the  above ;  and  even  those  which  we  have  given,  are  4 
such  as  one  would  imagine  could  not  have  escaped  the  observation  of 
any  one  who  would  think  of  employing  an  artificial  sphere  to  represent 
the  celestial  motions ;  yet  from  the  tenor  of  the  work  in  question,  it 
would  seem,  that  if  they  were  known,  they  were  never  before,  at  least, 
embodied  in  the  form  of  a  regular  treatise. 

Here,  then,  we  may  begin  to  date  the  first  scientific  form  of  astro- 
nomy ;  because  in  this  work,  however  low  and  elementary,  we  have 
an  application  of  geometry  to  illustrate  the  motions  of  the  heavenly 
bodies ;  but  we  shall  still  find  two  other  centuries  pass  away,  before 
the  same  principles  were  applied  to  actual  computation. 

Contemporary  with  Autolycus  was  Euclid ;  whose  elements  of  geo-  Eucli<L300 
metry,  after  so  many  ages,  still  maintain  their  pre-eminence,  and  con- 
tain all  the  propositions  that  are  necessary  for  establishing  every  useful 
theorem  in  trigonometry ;  yet  it  is  perfectly  evident  that  no  ideas  were 
yet  conceived  of  the  latter  science.  Neither  Euclid  nor  Archimedes, 
great  as  were  their  skill  and  talents  in  geometry,  had  any  idea  of  the 
method  of  estimating  the  measure  of  any  angle  by  the  arc,  which  the 
two  lines  forming  it  intercepted ;  nor  does  it  appear  that  they  knew 
of  any  instrument  whatever  for  taking  angles ;  a  very  convincing  proof 
of  which  appears  in  the  process  adopted  by  the  latter  justly-celebrated 
philosopher,  in  order  to  determine  the  apparent  diameter  of  the  sun. 

Passing  over  the  poet  Aratus,  who  is  supposed  to  have  embodied  Aristarchus. 
in  his  poem  all  the  astronomical  knowledge  of  the  time  in  which  he 
wrote,  viz.,  270  B.  c.,  but  who  had  not  himself  made  any  observa- 
tions, we  come  to  Aristarchus,  who  has  left  us  a  work,  entitled  *  Of 
Magnitudes  and  Distances;'  in  which  he  teaches,  that  the  moon  re- 
ceives her  light  from  the  sun,  and  that  the  earth  is  only  a  point  in 
comparison  with  the  sphere  of  the  moon.  He  likewise  added,  that 
when  the  moon  is  dichotomized,  we  are  in  the  plane  of  the  circle  which 
separates  the  enlightened  part  from  the  unenlightened,  Which  is  the 
most  curious  and  original  remark  of  this  author ;  in  this  state  of  the 
moon,  he  also  observes,  that  the  angle  subtended  by  the  sun  and  moon, 
is  one-thirtieth  less  than  a  right  angle ;  which,  in  other  words,  is  say- 
ing, that  the  angle  is  87°,  whereas  we  now  know  that  this  angle  ex- 
ceeds 89°  50'.  In  another  proposition  he  asserts,  that  the  breadth  of 
the  shadow  of  the  earth  is  equal  to  two  semi-diameters  of  the  moon, 
whereas  these  are  to  each  other  as  83  to  64.  In  his  sixth  proposition, 
he  states  the  apparent  diameter  of  the  moon  to  be  one-fifteenth  part 
of  a  sign,  or  2° ;  whereas  we  know  that  it  is  only  about  half  a  degree. 
Again,  the  distance  of  the  earth  from  the  moon  being  assumed  as  unity, 
the  distance  of  the  moon  from  the  sun  was  said  to  be  17*107,  and  the 
distance  of  the  earth  from  the  sun  19*081.  Such  was  the  astronomical 


336 


GREEK   SCIENCE. 


i.e.  230. 


Ancient 

armillary 

sphere. 


Determina- 
tion of  the 
equinoxes. 


knowledge  in  the  time  of  Aristarchus,  who  lived  about  two  hundred 
and  sixty-four  years  before  the  Christian  era. 

Eratosther.es.  In  order  of  time  we  pass  now  to  Eratosthenes,  who  may,  perhaps, 
with  more  propriety  than  Autolycus,  be  considered  as  the  founder  of 
astronomical  science ;  particularly  if  it  be  true  that  he  placed  in  the 
portico  of  Alexandria  certain  armillary  spheres ;  of  which  so  much 
use  was  afterwards  made,  and  which,  it  is  said,  he  owed  to  the  mu- 
nificence of  Ptolemy  Euergetes,  who  called  him  to  Alexandria,  and 
gave  him  the  charge  and  direction  of  his  library. 

According  to  the  description  given  of  these  armillaries  by  Ptolemy, 
they  were  assemblages  of  different  circles ;  the  principal  one  of  which 
served  as  a  meridian ;  the  equator,  the  ecliptic,  and  the  two  colures, 
constituted  an  interior  assemblage,  which  turned  on  the  poles  of  the 
equator.  There  was  another  circle,  which  turned  on  the  poles  of  the 
ecliptic,  and  carried  an  index  to  point  out  the  division  at  which  it 
stopped.  The  instrument  of  which  the  above  appears  to  be  the  ge- 
neral construction  was  applied  to  various  uses ;  amongst  others,  it 
served  to  determine  the  equinoxes,  after  the  following  manner : — The 
equator  of  the  instrument  being  pointed  with  great  care  in  the  plane  of 
the  celestial  equator,  the  observer  ascertained,  by  watching  the  mo- 
ment when  neither  the  upper  nor  the  lower  surface  was  enlightened  by 
the  sun;  or  rather,  which  was  less  liable  to  error,  when  the  shadow 
of  the  anterior  convex  portion  of  the  circle  completely  covered  the  con- 
cave part  on  which  it.  was  projected,  This  instant  of  time  was  evi- 
dently that  of  the  equinox.  And  if  this  did  not  happen  at  a  time 
when  the  sun  shone,  two  observations  were  selected,  in  which  the 
shadow  was  projected  on  the  concave  part  of  the  circle  in  opposite 
directions ;  and  the  mean  of  the  interval  between  these  observations 
was  accounted  the  time  of  the  equinox.  At  this  time  we  find  enu- 
merated five  planets,  viz.,  Qaivtav,  QaiQuv,  Hvpoeidri^  which  appear 
to  indicate  Jupiter,  Saturn,  and  Mars ;  and  to  which  were  added 
Venus  and  Mercury. 

Magnitude  of  Eratosthenes  not  only  taught  the  spherical  figure  of  the  earth,  but 
irth>  attempted  to  ascertain  its  actual  circumference,  by  measuring,  as  exactly 
as  could  be  done  in  his  time,  the  length  of  a  certain  terrestrial  arc,  and 
then  finding  the  astronomical  arc  in  degrees  intercepted  between  the 
zeniths  of  the  two  places.  The  segment  of  the  meridian  which  he 
fixed  upon  for  this  purpose,  was  that  between  Alexandria  and  Syene. 
The  measured  distance  of  which  was  found  to  be  5,000  stadia.  The 
angle  of  the  shadow  upon  the  scaphia,  which  was  observed  at  Alex- 
andria, was  equal  to  the  fiftieth  part  of  the  circle  ;  and  at  Syene  there 
was  no  shadow  from  this  gnomon  at  noonday  of  the  summer  solstice. 
That  this  last  observation  might  be  the  more  accurately  taken,  they 
dug  a  deep  well,  which,  being  perpendicular,  was  completely  illumi- 
nated at  the  bottom  when  the  sun  was  on  the  meridian.  The  exact 
quantity  which  this  philosopher  assigned  to  the  circumference  of  the 
earth  is  not  known ;  at  least,  different  opinions  have  been  advanced  : 


ASTRONOMY.  337 

some  state  it  at  250,000,  and  others  at  252,000  stadia :  the  length  of 
this  unit  of  measure  is  also  somewhat  uncertain.  It  is,  however,  of 
small  importance,  as  we  may  be  pretty  well  convinced  that,  by  such 
means  as  he  employed,  no  very  accurate  conclusion  could  be  expected; 
it  is  sufficient  that  he  attempted  the  solution  of  the  problem  in  a  very 
rational  manner,  to  entitle  him  to  the  honour  of  being  one  of  the  most 
celebrated  of  the  Grecian  astronomers. 

Eratosthenes  also  observed  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic,  and  made  Obliquity  of 
it  to  consist  of  -reV^h  °f  a  circumference,  which  answers  to  about l  e  ec  lptlc< 
23°  51'  19 '5".     This  observation  is  commonly  stated  to  have  been 
made  in  the  year  230  B.  c. 

Archimedes,  the  justly-celebrated  geometer  of  Syracuse,  was  con-  Archimedes, 
temporary  with  Eratosthenes;  and  although  most  conspicuous  as  a  B'c* 
mechanic  and  geometrician,  the  great  impulse  which  he  gave  to  the 
sciences  generally,  will  not  admit  of  our  passing  him  over  in  silence 
in  this  history.  All  that  we  have  of  this  author  with  reference  to 
astronomy,  is  found  in  his  '  Arenarius,'  a  work  which  has  been  trans- 
lated into  most  modern  languages ;  where  he  undertakes  to  prove, 
that  the  numerical  denominations  which  he  has  indicated  in  his  books 
to  Zeuxippus,  are  more  than  sufficient  to  express  the  grains  of  sand 
that  would  compose  a  globe,  not  only  as  large  as  our  earth,  but  as  the 
whole  universe.  He  supposes  that  the  circumference  of  the  earth  is 
not  more  than  three  million  stadia ;  that  the  diameter  of  the  earth  is 
greater  than  that  of  the  moon,  and  less  than  that  of  the  sun  ;  that  the 
diameter  of  the  sun  is  300  times  greater  than  that  of  the  moon ;  and 
moreover,  that  the  diameter  of  the  sun  is  greater  than  the  side  of  the 
inscribed  chiliagon,  that  is  greater  than  ^Wo,  or  21'  36". 

The  manner  in  which  he  arrives  at  his  conclusion  is  very  interesting,  Archimedes 
as  showing  the  state  of  the  sciences  at  this  time,  even  in  the  hands  of  ?heerap™ent 
this  great  master : — "  I  have  used,"  says  he,  "  every  effort  to  deter-  diameter  of 
mine,  by  means  of  instruments,  the  angle  which  comprehends  the  sun, the  sun* 
and  has  its  summit  at  the  eye  of  the  observer ;  but  this  is  not  easy ; 
for  neither  our  eyes  nor  our  hands,  nor  any  of  the  means  which  it  is 
possible  for  us  to  employ,  have  the  requisite  precision  to  obtain  this 
measure.  This,  however,  is  not  the  place  to  enlarge  upon  such  a 
subject.  It  will  suffice  to  demonstrate  that  which  I  have  advanced, 
to  measure  an  angle  which  is  not  greater  than  that  which  includes  the 
sun's  apparent  diameter,  and  has  its  summit  in  our  eyes ;  and  then  to 
take  another  angle  which  is  not  less  than  that  of  the  sun,  and  which 
equally  has  its  summit  in  our  eyes.  Having,  therefore,  directed  a 
long  ruler  on  a  horizontal  plane  towards  the  point  of  the  horizon 
where  the  sun  ought  to  rise,  I  place  a  small  cylinder  perpendicularly 
on  this  ruler.  When  the  sun  is  on  the  horizon,  and  we  look  at  it 
without  injury,  I  direct  the  ruler  towards  the  sun,  the  eye  being  at 
one  of  its  extremities,  and  the  cylinder  is  placed  between  the  sun  and 
the  eye  in  such  a  manner,  that  it  entirely  conceals  the  sun  from  view. 
I  then  remove  the  cylinder  farther  from  the  eye,  until  the  sun  begins 
[G.  E.  P.]  z 


338  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

to  be  perceived  by  a  thin  stream  of  light  on  each  side  of  the  cylinder. 
Now,  if  the  eye  perceived  the  sun  from  a  single  point,  it  would 
suffice  to  draw  from  that  point  tangential  lines  to  the  two  sides  of  the 
cylinder.  The  angle  included  between  these  lines  would  be  a  little 
less  than  the  apparent  diameter  of  the  sun ;  because  there  is  a  ray  of 
light  on  each  side.  But  as  our  eyes  are  not  a  single  point,  I  have 
taken  another  round  body,  not  less  than  the  interval  between  the  two 
pupils ;  and  placing  this  body  at  the  point  of  sight  at  the  end  of  the 
ruler,  and  drawing  tangents  to  the  two  bodies,  of  which  one  is 
cylindric,  I  obtained  the  angle  subtended  by  the  suns  (apparent) 
diameter.  Now  the  body,  which  is  not  less  than  the  preceding  dis- 
tance (between  the  pupils),  I  determine  thus:  I  take  two  equal 
cylinders,  one  white,  the  other  black,  and  place  them  before  me ;  the 
white  further  off,  the  other  near,  so  near  indeed  as  to  touch  my  face. 
If  these  two  cylinders  are  less  than  the  distance  between  the  eyes,  the 
nearer  cylinder  will  not  entirely  cover  the  one  that  is  more  remote, 
and  there  will  appear  on  both  sides  some  white  part  of  that  remote 
cylinder.  By  different  trials,  we  may  find  cylinders  of  such  magnitude, 
that  the  one  shall  completely  conceal  the  other :  we  then  have  the 
measure  of  our  view  (the  distance  between  the  pupils),  and  an  angle, 
which  is  not  smaller  than  that  in  which  the  sun  appears.  Now, 
having  applied  these  angles  successively  to  a  quarter  of  a  circle,  I  have 
found  that  one  of  them  has  less  than  its  164th  part,  and  the  other 
greater  than  its  200th  part.  It  is  therefore  evident,  that  the  angle 
which  includes  the  sun,  and  has  its  summit  at  our  eye,  is  greater  than 
the  164th  part  of  a  right  angle,  and  less  than  the  200th  part  of  a 
right  angle." 

By  this  process,  Archimedes  found  the  sun's  apparent  diameter  to 
be  between  27'  and  32'  56". 

singular  It  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  considering  the  obvious  inaccuracy  of 

S^TraSt!*  the  method,  that  the  maximum  limit  thus  obtained,  differs  only  ^  of  a 
minute  from  32'  35'6",  which  is  the  largest  angle  actually  subtended 
by  the  sun's  diameter,  and  which  is  observed  about  the  time  of  the 
winter  solstice,  when  the  sun  is  nearest  to  the  earth.  But  this  quo- 
tation from  the  '  Arenarius '  is  extremely  curious  also  on  other  accounts. 
We  may  learn  from  it,  first,  that  Archimedes,  with  all  his  fecundity 
of  genius,  and  with  all  the  variety  of  his  inventions,  had  no  means  of 
diminishing  the  effect  of  the  sun's  rays  upon  his  eyes,  and  therefore 
performed  this  interesting  experiment  when  the  sun  was  in  the  horizon, 
that  the  optic  organ  might  sustain  its  light  without  inconvenience.  It 
also  proves  to  us,  that  there  was  not  then  any  instrument  known  to 
Archimedes,  which  he  thought  capable  of  giving  the  diameter  of  the 
sun,  to  within  four  or  six  minutes;  since  he  found  it  necessary  to 
devise  means  at  which  he  stopped,  after  an  attempt  not  very  satis- 
factory. We  see,  further,  that  he  carried  his  angles,  or  their  chords, 
over  a  quarter  of  a  circle ;  but  he  does  not  say  expressly  that  his  arc 
had  been  divided;  to  render  his  language  accurately,  it  is  simply 


ASTRONOMY.  339 

requisite  to  say,  having  carried  one  of  the  chords  200  times  over  upon 
the  arc,  he  found  it  exhausted ;  and  that  the  other  chords  could  only 
be  applied  164  times  upon  the  quadrant. 

We  see,  also,  that  Archimedes  had  not  the  means  of  computing  the 
angle  at  the  vertex  of  an  isosceles  triangle,  of  which  he  knew  the  base 
and  the  two  equal  sides.  He  was  obliged  to  recur  to  a  graphical 
operation  as  uncertain  as  the  observation  itself.  Thus  he  was  entirely 
ignorant  even  of  rectilinear  trigonometry,  and  he  had  not  any  notion 
of  computing  the  chords  of  circular  arcs. 

We  now  come  to  the  great  father  of  true  astronomy,  Hipparchus ; 
but  our  limits  will  not  admit  of  our  entering  very  deeply  into  his 
discoveries  and  improvements.  One  of  his  first  cares  was  to  rectify  Finds  the 
the  length  of  the  year,  which  before  his  time  we  have  seen  had  been  ^J  ' 
made  to  consist  of  365  days  and  6  hours.  By  comparing  one  of  his 
own  observations  at  the  summer  solstice  with  a  similar  observation 
made  145  years  before  by  Aristarchus,  he  shortened  the  year  about 
7  minutes;  making  it  to  consist  of  365  days,  5  hours,  53  minutes; 
which,  however,  was  not  sufficient:  but  the  cause  of  the  mistake  is  said 
to  have  rested  principally  with  Aristarchus  and  not  with  Hipparchus ; 
for  the  observations  of  the  latter,  compared  with  those  of  modern  times, 
give  365  days,  5  hours,  48  min.  49^-  sec.  for  the  duration  of  the  year ;  a 
result  which  exceeds  the  truth  very  little  more  than  a  second.  It  is  to 
be  observed,  however,  that  this  is  110  very  exact  criterion,  unless  the 
same  be  compared  with  the  observation  of  the  more  ancient  observer ; 
for  supposing  all  the  error  on  the  side  of  Hipparchus,  it  is  more  divided 
by  comparing  it  with  others  at  the  distance  of  19  or  20  centuries,  than 
in  comparing  it  with  one,  where  the  distance  of  time  is  only  145  years. 

One  of  the  greatest  benefits  which  astronomy  derived  from  this  Introduction 
philosopher  was  his  enunciation  and  demonstration  of  the  method  of  ^eSyTy" 
computing  triangles,  whether  plane  or  spherical.     He  constructed  a  chords, 
table  of  chords,  which  he  applied  nearly  in  the  same  manner  as  we 
now  do  our  tables  of  sines.     As  an  observer,  however,  he  rendered 
great  service  to  the  doctrine  of  astronomy,  having  made  much  more 
numerous  observations  than  any  of  his  predecessors,  and  upon  far 
more  accurate  principles.      He  established  the  theory  of  the  sun's  Establishes 
motion  in  such  a  manner,  that  Ptolemy,  130  years  afterwards,  found  o^elu'n's 
no  essential  alteration  requisite ;    he  determined  also  the  first  lunar  motion, 
inequality,  and  gave  the  motions  of  the  moon's  apogee  and  of  its  fijst  lunar 
nodes,  which  Ptolemy  afterwards  very  slightly  modified.     Hipparchus  inequality, 
also  prepared  the  way  for  the  discovery  of  the  second  lunar  inequality, 
and  from  his  observation  it  was,  that  the  fact  of  the  precession  of  the 
equinoxes  was  first  inferred.     He  employed  the  transit  of  the  stars  Hour  of  the 
over  the  meridian  to  find  the  hour  of  the  night,  and  invented  the  S^the  stars, 
planisphere,  or  the  means  of  representing  the  concave  sphere  of  the 
stars,  on  a  plane,  and  thence  deduced  the  solution  of  problems  in 
spherical  astronomy,  with  considerable  exactness  and  facility.     To  him 
also  we  owe  the  happy  idea  of  marking  the  position  of  towns  and 

z2 


340 


GREEK  SCIENCE. 


the  stars. 


Ptolemy. 
A.  c.  120. 


cities,  as  we  do  those  of  the  stars,  by  circles  drawn  through  the  poles 
perpendicularly  to  the  equator;  that  is,  by  latitudes  and  by  circles 
parallel  to  the  equator,  corresponding  to  our  longitudes.  From  his 
projection  it  is,  that  our  maps  and  nautical  charts  are  now  principally 
constructed,  and  his  method,  by  means  of  eclipses,  was  for  a  long 
time  the  only  one  by  which  the  longitude  could  be  determined. 
Catalogue  of  Another  most  important  work  of  Hipparchus,  was  his  formation  of 
a  catalogue  of  the  stars*  The  appearance  of  a  new  star  in  his  time, 
caused  him  to  form  the  grand  project  of  enabling  future  astronomers 
to  ascertain  whether  the  general  picture  of  the  heavens  were  always 
the  same.  This  he  aimed  to  effect,  by  attempting  the  actual  enume- 
ration of  the  stars.  The  magnitude  and  difficulty  of  the  undertaking 
did  not  deter  this  indefatigable  astronomer ;  he  prepared  and  arranged 
an  extensive  catalogue  of  the  fixed  stars,  which  subsequently  served  as 
the  basis  of  that  of  Ptolemy.  So  great,  indeed,  is  the  merit  of  this 
prince  of  Grecian  astronomy,  that  the  enthusiastic  language  in  which 
Pliny  speaks  of  him  in  his  Hist.  Nat.  (lib.  ii.  cap.  26)  may  rather  be 
admired  than  censured. 

After  Hipparchus,  we  meet  with  no  astronomer  of  eminence  amongst 
the  Greeks  till  the  time  of  Ptolemy,  who  flourished  between  the  years 
125  and  140  of  the  Christian  era;  a  space  of  nearly  three  hundred 
years.  There  were,  however,  some  astronomical  writers,  both  Greeks 
and  Romans  in  the  course  of  this  time,  whom  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
enumerate,  although  the  little  progress  that  the  science  made  in  their 
hands  will  exempt  us  from  the  necessity  of  entering  minutely  into  an 
analysis  of  their  several  works :  these  were,  Geminus,  who  lived  about 
70  years  B.  c.,  whose  book  is  entitled  *  Introduction  to  the  Phenomena;' 
Achilles  Tatius,  of  about  the  same  period ;  Cleomedes,  who  lived  in 
the  time  of  Augustus;  Theodosius,  Menelaus,  and  Hypsicles,  who 
are  supposed  to  have  written  about  the  year  50  B.  c. ;  Manilius,  Strabo, 
Posidonius,  and  Cicero,  who  were  about  half  a  century  later;  after 
which,  we  meet  with  no  one  to  whom  it  is  at  all  necessary  even  to 
refer,  till  we  come  to  Ptolemy,  who  was  born  in  the  year  of  Christ  70; 
and  who  made,  as  we  have  stated  above,  most  of  his  observations 
between  the  years  125  and  140  of  our  era. 

Ptolemy  has  rendered  all  succeeding  astronomers  indebted  to  him, 
both  for  his  own  observations,  which  were  very  numerous,  and  his 
construction  of  various  tables,  but  most  of  all  for  the  important  collec- 
tion which  he  made  of  all  astronomical  knowledge  prior  to  his  time, 
and  which  he  entitled,  MeyaX?/  Zvvra£ic,  or  Great  Collection.1  Of 
his  own  labours,  we  may  mention  his  theory  and  calculation  of  tables 
of  the  planets,  and  his  determination,  with  a  precision  little  to  be 
expected  in  his  time,  of  the  ratio  of  their  epicycles  to  their  mean  dis- 
tances; that  is  to  say,  in  other  terms,  the  ratio  of  their  mean  distances 
to  the  distance  of  the  earth  from  the  sun.  This  theory,  imperfect  as 

1  Called  by  the  Arabs,  who  translated  it,  the  Almagest  (from  the  Arabic  art.  al, 
and  the  Greek  superlative  megistos,  greatest). 


Various 
labours  of 
Ptolemy. 


ASTRONOMY.  341 

it  was,  was  adopted  and  generally  admitted,  for  the  space  of  fourteen 
centuries,  during  which  time,  it  was  transmitted  to  the  Arabs,  the 
Persians,  arid  the  Indians,  with  whom  it  is  still  held  sacred. 

To  this  celebrated  Grecian  we  also  owe  the  substitution  of  the  Sines 
sines  of  arcs  instead  of  their  chords ;  as  also  the  first  enumeration  of  SnJ 
some  important  theorems  in  trigonometry. 

Ptolemy  was  the  author  of  that  system  of  astronomy  which  still  Ptolemy's 

•,  ,  .  -r  i         v  i  ."•      i  L    '     f       ji  •  arguments 

bears  his  name  ;  or,  it  he  did  not  entirely  invent  it  (as  there  is  great  to  prove  the 
reason  to  suppose  he  did  not),  he  enforced  it  by  such  arguments  as  led  immobility  ' 
to  its  establishment ;  and  it  was  afterwards  rendered  sacred  through  the 
stupid  bigotry  and  intolerance  of  the  Romish  church.  He  endeavours 
to  prove  the  absolute  immobility  of  the  earth,  by  observing,  "  If  the 
earth  had  a  motion  of  translation  common  to  other  heavy  bodies, 
it  would,  in  consequence  of  its  superior  mass,  precede  them  in  space, 
and  pass  even  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  heavens,  leaving  all  the 
animals  and  other  bodies  without  any  support  but  air ;  which  are 
consequences  to  the  last  degree  ridiculous  and  absurd."  In  the  same 
place  he  adds,  "  Some  persons  pretend,  that  there  is  nothing  to 
prevent  us  from  supposing  that  the  heavens  remain  immoveable,  while 
the  earth  turns  on  its  own  axis  from  west  to  east,  making  this  revo- 
lution in  a  day  nearly  ;  or  that,  if  the  heavens  and  the  earth  both 
turn,  it  is  in  a  ratio  corresponding  with  the  relations  we  have  observed 
between  them.  It  is  true,  that  as  to  the  stars  themselves,  and  con- 
sidering only  their  phenomena,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  us,  for  the 
sake  of  simplicity,  from  making  such  a  supposition.  But  these  people 
are  not  aware  how  ridiculous  their  opinion  is,  when  considered  with 
reference  to  events  which  take  place  about  us;  for  if  we  concede  to 
them  that  the  lightest  bodies,  consisting  of  parts  the  most  subtle,  are 
not  possessed  of  levity  (which  is  contrary  to  nature),  or  that  they 
move  not  differently  from  bodies  of  a  contrary  kind  (although  we 
daily  witness  the  reverse) ;  or,  if  we  concede  to  them  that  the  most 
compact  and  heaviest  bodies  possess  a  rapid  and  constant  motion  of 
their  own  (while,  it  is  well  known,  that  they  yield  only  with  difficulty 
to  the  impulses  we  give  to  them),  still,  they  would  be* obliged  to 
acknowledge,  that  the  earth,  by  its  revolution,  would  have  a  motion 
more  rapid  than  any  of  those  bodies  which  encompass  it,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  great  circuit  through  which  it  must  pass  in  so  short 
a  period ;  wherefore  such  bodies  as  are  not  supported  on  it,  would 
always  appear  to  possess  a  motion  contrary  to  itself;  and  neither 
clouds,  nor  any  projected  bodies,  nor  birds  in  flight,  would  ever 
appear  to  move  towards  the  east;  since  the  earth,  always  preceding 
them  in  this  direction,  would  anticipate  them  in  their  motion;  and 
everything,  except  the  earth  itself,  would  constantly  appear  to  be 
retiring  towards  the  west." 

If  we  did  not  feel  convinced  that,  in  certain  cases,  even  the  errors 
and  false  reasoning  of  such  a  man  as  Ptolemy,  possess  a  greater 
interest  than  the  more  correct  and  refined  arguments  of  minor 


342 


GREEK  SCIENCE. 


Analysis 
of  the 
Almagest. 


Theorems 
in  trigono- 
metry. 


Climates. 


Length  of 
the  year,  &c. 


philosophers,  we  should  certainly  not  have  laid  before  our  readers  this 
extract  from  the  introduction  to  the  *  Almagest ;'  but  considering  it 
as  the  defence  of  an  hypothesis,  which  maintained  its  ascendency  for 
fourteen  centuries  amongst  all  nations,  and  which  is  still  held  sacred 
throughout  every  part  of  Asia,  it  is  impossible  to  divest  it  of  its 
interest  and  importance. 

The  other  part  of  this  great  work  is  more  worthy  of  the  talents  of 
its  author,  and  is  more  deserving  of  our  attention ;  but  the  limits  of 
this  article  will  not  admit  of  our  giving  more  than  a  very  concise 
abstract  of  its  contents.  The  first  book,  beside  what  we  have  hitherto 
mentioned,  exhibits  a  highly-interesting  specimen  of  the  ancient  trigo- 
nometry; and  the  method  of  computing  the  chords  of  arcs,  which,  in 
fact,  involves  our  fundamental  theorems  of  trigonometry,  though 
expressed  in  a  manner  totally  different. 

Ptolemy  first  shows,  how  to  find  the  sides  of  a  pentagon,  decagon, 
hexagon,  square,  and  equilateral  triangle,  inscribed  in  a  circle,  which 
he  exhibits  in  parts  of  the  diameter,  this  being  supposed  divided  into 
120.  He  next  demonstrates  a  theorem  equivalent  to  our  expression 
sin  (a  —  b)  =  sin  a  cos  b— sin  6  cos  a;  by  means  of  which  he  finds 
the  chord  of  the  difference  of  any  two  arcs,  whose  chords  are  known. 
He  then  finds  the  chord  of  any  half  arc,  that  of  the  whole  arc  being 
given,  and  then  demonstrates  what  is  equivalent  to  our  formula  for 
the  sine  of  two  arcs ;  that  is,  sin  (a-f-6)  =  sin  a  cos  b  -f-  sin  b  cos  a  ; 
and  by  means  of  this  he  computes  the  chord  to  every  half  degree  of 
the  semicircle.  These  theorems  it  may  be  said  belong  rather  to  the 
history  of  trigonometry  than  to  that  of  astronomy ;  but  we  trust  that 
the  obvious  dependence  of  the  latter  science  upon  the  former,  will 
be  found  to  justify  us  in  introducing  them  to  the  reader  in  this  place. 

We  are  next  presented  with  a  table  of  climates  nearly  equivalent  to 
our  nonagesimal  tables,  and  it  is  not  a  little  singular,  that  amongst 
them,  we  find  none  appertaining  to  the  latitude  of  Alexandria; 
because,  without  such  an  auxiliary,  Ptolemy  must  have  contented 
himself  with  interpolations,  which  were  not  only  difficult  to  make, 
but  attended  at  the  same  time  with  great  inaccuracy  ;  a  circumstance 
from  which  it  has  been  concluded,  that  Ptolemy  himself  made  few 
observations,  or  that  he  was  not  very  particular  concerning  the 
accuracy  of  his  calculations.  The  examination  of  this  question  would 
carry  us  too  far  out  of  our  track  to  admit  of  our  entering  upon  it  in 
this  place  ;  but  the  reader  may  see  it  developed  in  all  requisite  detail, 
in  the  learned  '  History  of  Astronomy,'  lately  published  by  Delambre. 

Having  passed  over  the  above  preliminary  details,  the  author  treats 
of  the  length  of  the  year,  the  motion  of  the  sun,  the  mean  and 
apparent  anomaly,  &c.  &c.  The  length  of  the  year,  according  to  the 
sexagesimal  notation,  he  makes  365d.  14'  48",  which  answers  to 
365d.  5h.  55'  12" ;  the  diurnal  motion  of  the  sun  is  stated  to  be 
0°  59'  8"  1"'  13iv  12V  31vi,  and  the  horary  motion  2'  27"  50'" 
43iv  3V  lvi.  To  this  is  also  added  two  tables,  one  of  the  mean 


ASTRONOMY.  343 

motion  of  the  sun r  and  the  other  of  the  solar  anomaly.  The  fourth 
book  of  the  '  Almagest '  is  employed  in  treating  of  the  motion  of  the 
moon,  being  prefaced  by  a  few  remarks  respecting  the  observations 
which  are  most  useful  for  that  purpose  :  he  then  gives  an  abstract  of 
all  the  lunar  motions,  with  a  table  of  them  ;  in  the  first  of  which  the 
motion  is  exhibited  for  periods  of  eighteen  years  :  in  the  second  for 
years  and  hours ;  and  in  the  third  for  Egyptian  months  and  days. 
Four  other  columns  of  the  same  table  present  the  number  of  degrees 
which  belong  to  each  of  the  times  indicated  in  the  first  column  ;  viz. 
the  second,  the  longitude ;  the  third,  the  anomaly ;  the  fourth,  the 
ktitude  ;  and  the  fifth,  the  elongation. 

The  author  next  treats   of  various  subjects   connected  with  the  Lunar 
lunar  motion ;  as,  for  instance,  its  general  anomaly  ;  its  eccentricity ;  motlon- 
the  lunar  parallax  ;  the  construction  of  instruments  for  observing  the 
parallax  ;  the  distance  of  the  moon  from  the  earth,  which  he  states  at 
38'4i    terrestrial   radii,    when    in    the   quadratures ;    the   apparent 
diameters  of  the  sun  and  moon  ;  the  distance  of  the  sun  from  the 
earth,  which  is  stated  at  1210  radii  of  the  latter;   and  the  relative 
magnitudes  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  earth.     The  diameters  of  these  are 
stated  to  be  to  each  other,  as  the  numbers  18 '8,  1,  and  3|  ;    also 
their  masses  as  6644J,  1,  and  39±. 

The  next  book  is  entirely  occupied  with  the  doctrine  of  eclipses 
of  the  sun  and  the  moon ;  the  determination  of  their  limits  and 
durations ;  tables  of  conjunctions ;  and  methods  of  computation  and 
construction,  &c. 

We  cannot  extend  the  analysis  of  this  important  work  to  a  greater  Particular 
length ;  but  must  content  ourselves  with  a  few  remarks  relative  to  jJfpJUJjUJ 
some  of  the  deductions  to  which  we  have  referred.  We  have  seen 
that  Ptolemy  made  the  length  of  the  year  to  be  more  than  365  days, 
5h.  55m.,  which  is  about  6  minutes  longer  than  it  really  is ;  but 
considering  that  the  observations  before  his  time,  with  the  exception 
of  those  of  Hipparchus,  were  very  imperfect ;  and  that  the  distance 
of  time  between  these  two  celebrated  astronomers,  was  not  sufficient 
to  determine  such  a  question,  with  the  means  they  possessed,  to  the 
greatest  nicety,  we  may  rather  admire  the  near  approximation  to  the 
truth,  than  be  astonished  at  the  difference  between  his  result  and 
that  deduced  from  numerous  and  long-continued  observations. 

His  researches  on  the  theory  of  the  sun  and  moon  were,  however,  -j^  evection 
attended  with  better  success.     Hipparchus  had  shown  that  these  two  discovered, 
bodies  moved  in  orbits,  of  which  the  earth  was  not  the  centre ;  and 
Ptolemy  demonstrated  the  same  truths  by  new  observations.     He, 
moreover,  made  another  important  discovery,  which  belongs  exclusively 
to  him,  except  so  far  as  relates  to  the  observations  of  Hipparchus,  by 
a  comparison  of  which  with  his  own,  his  conclusion  was  deduced, — 
we  allude  here  to  the  second  lunar  inequality,  at  present  distinguished 
by  the  term  evection.     It  is  known,  generally,  that  the  velocity  of  the 
moon  in  its  orbit,  is  not  always  the  same,  and  that  it  augments  or 


344:  GREEK   SCIENCE. 

diminishes,  as  the  diameter  of  this  satellite  appears  to  increase  or  de- 
crease ;  we  know,  also,  that  it  is  greatest  and  least  at  the  extremities 
of  the  line  of  the  apsides  of  the  lunar  orbit.  Ptolemy  observed  that 
from  one  revolution  to  another,  the  absolute  quantities  of  these  two 
extreme  velocities  varied,  and  that  the  more  distant  the  sun  was  from 
the  line  of  the  apsides  of  the  moon,  the  more  the  difference  between 
these  two  velocities  augmented ;  whence  he  concluded  that  the  first 
inequality  of  the  moon,  which  depends  on  the  eccentricity  of  its  orbit, 
is  itself  subject  to  an  annual  inequality,  depending  on  the  position  of 
the  line  of  the  apsides  of  the  lunar  orbit  with  regard  to  the  sun. 

When  we  consider  Ptolemy's  system  of  astronomy,  as  founded  upon 
a  false  hypothesis,  the  complication  of  his  various  epicycles,  in  order 
to  account  for  the  several  phenomena  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  the 
rude  state  of  the  ancient  astronomy,  it  is  impossible  to  withhold  our 
admiration  of  the  persevering  industry  and  penetrating  genius  of  this 
justly-celebrated  philosopher;  who,  with  such  means,  was  enabled  to 
discover  an  irregularity  which  would  seem  to  require  the  most  delicate 
and  refined  aid  of  modern  mechanics  to  be  rendered  perceptible. 

The  work  of  this  author  to  which  we  have  hitherto  confined  our 
remarks,  is  the  '  Almagest;'1  but  Ptolemy  also  composed  other  trea- 
tises ;  which,  if  not  equal  to  the  above  in  importance,  are  still  such  as 
to  be  highly  honourable  to  his  memory  and  talents,  particularly  his 
geography. 

Ptolemy's  This  work,  although  imperfect  as  to  its  detail,  is  notwithstanding 
geography.  foun(je(j  Up0n  correct  principles ;  the  places  being  marked  by  their 
latitude  and  longitude  agreeably  to  the  method  of  Hipparchus.  As 
to  the  inaccuracies  of  their  position,  although  they  cannot  be  denied, 
they  will  readily  be  pardoned,  when  we  consider  that  he  had  for  the 
determination  of  the  situation  of  cities  and  places  of  which  he  speaks, 
only  a  small  number  of  observations,  subject  to  considerable  errors ; 
and  the  mere  report  of  travellers,  whose  observations  we  may  readily 
grant  were  still  more  erroneous  than  those  of  his  own.  It  requires  many 
years  to  give  great  perfection  to  geography  :  even  in  the  present  time, 
when  observations  with  accurate  instruments  have  been  made  in  every 
part  of  the  globe,  we  are  still  finding  corrections  necessary ;  a  remark- 
able instance  of  which  seems  to  have  occurred  lately  (1818)  to 
Captain  Ross,  in  his  voyage  into  Baffin's  Bay,  where  he  is  said  to  have 
found  some  parts  of  the  land  laid  down  nearly  a  degree  and  a  half  out 

1  The  first  printed  edition  of  this  celebrated  performance  was  a  Latin  translation 
from  the  Arabic  version  of  Cremoneus ;  which,  however,  abounds  so  much  in  the 
idiom  of  that  language,  as  to  render  it  nearly  unintelligible,  without  a  constant 
reference  to  the  Greek  text.  This  was  published  at  Venice  in  1515  ;  and  in  1538 
the  collection  appeared  in  its  original  language,  under  the  superintendence  of  Simon 
Grynaeus,  at  Basil,  together  with  the  eleven  books  of  the  Commentaries  of  Theon. 
The  Greek  text  was  again  republished  at  the  same  place,  with  a  Latin  version,  in 
1541  ;  and  again,  with  all  the  works  of  Ptolemy,  in  1551  ;  and  lastly,  a  splendid 
French  edition,  with  the  Greek  text,  by  M.  Halma,  in  three  beautiful  volumes,  royal 
quarto,  Paris,  1813. 


MECHANICS.  345 

of  their  proper  places.  Many  other  minor  pieces  on  astronomy  and 
optics  are  also  attributed  to  this  author  ;  but  we  have  already  extended 
our  accounts  of  his  works  to  a  greater  length  than  we  had  intended, 
and  must  now  therefore  pass  on  to  his  successors. 

After  the  time  of  Ptolemy  we  find  no  Greek  astronomers  of  Greeks 
eminence,  although  we  have  some  few  writers  on  this  subject.  The 
science  of  astronomy  had  now  obviously  passed  its  zenith,  and  began 
rapidly  to  decline.  The  Alexandrian  school,  it  is  true,  still  subsisted  ; 
but  during  the  long  period  of  five  hundred  years,  all  that  can  be  said 
is,  that  the  taste  for,  and  the  tradition  of,  the  science  was  preserved,  by 
various  commentators  on  Hipparchus  and  Ptolemy  ;  of  whom  the  most 
distinguished  were  Theon  and  the  unfortunate  Hypatia,  his  daughter. 
The  latter  is  said  to  have  herself  computed  certain  astronomical  tables, 
which  are  lost. 

We  now  arrive  at  that  period,  so  fatal  to  the  Grecian  sciences.  Destruction 
These  had  for  a  long  time  taken  refuge  in  the  school  of  Alexandria ;  Alexandrian 
where,  destitute  of  support  and  encouragement,  they  could  not  fail  to  school, 
degenerate.  Still,  however,  they  preserved,  as  we  have  said  above, 
at  least  by  tradition  or  imitation,  some  resemblance  of  the  original ; 
but  about  the  middle  of  the  seventh  century,  a  tremendous  storm  arose 
which  threatened  their  total  destruction.  Filled  with  all  the  enthu- 
siasm a  military  government  is  calculated  to  inspire,  the  successor  of 
Mahomet  ravaged  that  vast  extent  of  country,  which  stretches  from  the 
east  to  the  southern  confines  of  Europe.  All  the  cultivators  of  the 
arts  and  sciences  who  had  from  every  nation  assembled  at  Alexandria, 
were  driven  away  with  ignominy :  some  fell  beneath  the  swords  of  their 
conquerors,  while  others  fled  into  remote  countries,  to  drag  out  the  re- 
mainder of  their  lives  in  obscurity  and  distress.  The  places  and  the 
instruments  which  had  been  so  useful  in  making  an  immense  number 
of  astronomical  observations,  were  involved  with  the  records  of  them, 
in  one  common  rain.  The  entire  library,  containing  the  works  of  so 
many  eminent  authors,  which  was  the  general  depository  of  all  human 
knowledge,  was  devoted  to  the  devouring  flames,  by  the  Arabs  ;  the 
caliph  Omar  observing,  "  that  if  they  agreed  with  the  Koran,  they 
were  useless ;  and  if  they  did  not,  they  ought  to  be  destroyed' :"  a  senti- 
ment worthy  of  such  a  leader,  and  oif  the  cause  in  which  he  was  en- 
gaged. In  the  midst  of  this  conflagration,  the  sun  of  Grecian  science, 
which  had  long  been  declining  from  its  meridian,  finally  set;  never, 
perhaps,  again  to  rise  in  those  regions  once  so  celebrated  for  the  culti- 
vation of  every  art  and  science  that  does  honour  to  the  human  mind. 

II.  MECHANICS. 

It  is  not  our  intention,  in  the  present  article,  to  enter  upon  the  history 
of  practical  mechanics,  but  to  confine  ourselves  exclusively  to  the 
theory  of  the  science ;  we  shall  not,  therefore,  have  to  travel  into  those 
dark  ages  in  which  historical  facts  and  fables  are  so  blended,  that  it 


346 


GREEK   SCIENCE. 


Archimedes. 
B.C.  289. 


Centre  of 
gravity. 


is  nearly  impossible  to  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other.  We  learn 
at  once  from  the  writings  of  Aristotle,  what  the  state  of  mechanical 
theory  was  in  his  time :  for  we  find  him  maintaining,  that  if  one  body 
have  ten  times  the  density  of  another,  it  will  move  with  ten  times  the 
velocity,  and  that  both  being  let  fall  from  the  same  height,  the  one 
will  fall  through  ten  times  the  space  that  the  other  will  in  the  same 
time ;  that  the  velocity  of  the  same  body,  in  different  mediums,  is 
reciprocally  as  their  densities ;  and  other  equally  absurd  and  incon- 
sistent notions :  and  the  difficulty  which  Galileo  experienced  in  eradi- 
cating these  false  hypotheses,  is  a  proof  that,  in  the  long  interval 
between  his  time  and  that  of  the  Stagirite,  no  theory  of  motion  of  a 
more  intelligible  and  satisfactory  description  had  appeared ;  although 
the  doctrine  of  equilibrium  had  already  begun  to  assume  a  scientific 
form  in  the  hands  of  Archimedes  and  Pappus. 

In  the  writings  of  Archimedes  that  are  still  extant,  we  find  the 
earliest  attempt  to  reduce  the  laws  of  equilibrium  to  order  and  con- 
sistency. His  work  '  De  jEquiponderantibus '  first  unites  and  assimi- 
lates them  with  the  pure  principles  of  geometry.  With  this  view,  he 
began  by  considering  the  case  of  a  lever  or  balance,  supported  on  a 
fulcrum,  and  loaded  with  a  weight  at  each  extremity ;  then  assuming 
it  as  an  axiom,  that  when  the  two  arms  of  the  balance  are  equal,  the 
two  weights  supposed  in  equilibrio  are  also  necessarily  equal,  he  de- 
monstrated that  if  one  of  the  arms  of  this  lever  be  augmented  in 
length,  the  weight  applied  to  it  in  order  to  preserve  the  equilibrium, 
must  be  reduced  in  the  same  ratio :  and  hence  he  concluded,  that 
generally,  when  two  weights  suspended  from  the  unequal  arms  of  a 
lever  are  in  equilibrio,  these  weights  ought  to  be  reciprocally  propor- 
tional to  the  distance  of  their  respective  points  of  application  from  the 
centre  of  motion.  He  also  observed,  that  each  of  these  two  weights 
produced  the  same  pressure  on  the  fulcrum  or  point  of  support  as  it 
would  do  if  it  were  immediately  applied  at  that  point ;  he  next  pro- 
ceeded to  make  this  substitution  mentally,  and  to  combine  the  sum  of 
the  two  weights  with  a  third ;  thus  attaining  the  same  conclusion  for 
an  assemblage  of  the  three  weights  as  for  the  first  two ;  and  so  on 
for  any  greater  number.  Hence  he  demonstrated,  step  by  step,  that 
there  exists  in  every  system  of  bodies,  as  well  as  in  every  single  body, 
regarded  as  a  system,  a  general  centre,  which  we  denominate  the 
centre  of  gravity.  He  then  applied  this  theory  to  certain  examples, 
and  determined  the  centres  of  gravity  in  the  parallelogram,  the  tri- 
angle, the  trapezium,  the  area  of  the  parabola,  &c.  &c. 

This  deduction,  as  we  have  above  observed,  was  the  first  step 
towards  establishing  a  rational  theory  of  mechanics  ;  and  the  surprise 
expressed  by  Hiero  at  the  famous  assertion  of  our  philosopher,  "  Give 
me  a  place  to  stand  on,  and  I  will  move  the  earth,"  shows  at  once 
the  novelty  of  the  doctrine,  and  the  wretched  state  of  mechanical 
knowledge  prior  to  this  discovery.  To  the  same  author  has  also  been 
attributed  the  theory  of  the  inclined  plane,  the  pulley,  and  the  screw ; 


HYDROSTATICS.  347 

much  doubt,  however,  remains  upon  this  subject,  and  he  is  too  rich  in 
honours  to  render  it  desirable  to  increase  them  by  any  of  uncertain 
authority.  The  machines  which  he  constructed  for  the  annoyance  of 
the  Roman  army,  during  the  siege  of  Syracuse,  astonish  even  our 
present  proficients  in  the  science ;  but  as  no  writings  particularly  de- 
scriptive of  them  have  come  down  to  us,  we  are  in  a  great  measure 
unacquainted  with  the  nature  of  their  powers :  and  while  much  of 
what  is  invaluable  has  been  lost,  much  may  have  been  exaggerated  by 
succeeding  writers,  and  little  of  scientific  detail  can  be  relied  upon 
respecting  them.  No  theory  of  mechanics,  with  the  exception  of  what 
little  is  found  in  the  collection  of  Pappus,  and  which  is  chiefly  a 
repetition  of  the  doctrines  of  Archimedes,  appeared  from  the  time  of 
the  latter  philosopher,  till  near  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

III.  HYDROSTATICS. 

We  have  seen,  in  the  historical  chapter  prefixed  to  our  treatise  on 
Mechanics,  that  we  are  indebted  to  Archimedes  for  the  first  correct 
theoretical  notions  of  the  doctrine  of  statics ;  and  it  was  the  same 
celebrated  philosopher  who  first  established  the  fundamental  laws  of 
hydrostatics,  or  that  branch  of  hydrodynamics  which  relates  to  the 
equilibrium  of  fluids. 

With  regard  to  the  theory  of  the  motion  of  bodies,  whether  solid  or 
fluid,  or  the  sciences  of  dynamics  and  hydraulics,  they  have  had  their 
birth  wholly  amongst  the  moderns ;  the  former  of  these  we  have 
already  noticed  in  the  chapter  above  alluded  to,  and  the  latter  will  be 
introduced  in  its  proper  place  in  the  present  article. 

According  to  some  authors,  the  work  which  Archimedes  composed  Hydrostatics. 
on  Hydrostatics,  we  owe,  as  it  now  exists,  to  a  translation  from  the  Archimedes. 
Arabic ;  while  others  maintain  that  we  have  derived  it  from  an  imme- 
diate translation  of  the  original  Greek  text.  This  work  is  entitled 
'  De  Humido  insidentibus,'*  and  is  divided  into  two  books.  The  basis 
on  which  this  author  founds  his  theory  is  this :  that  every  particle  of 
a  fluid  being  supposed  equal,  and  equally  heavy,  will  renjain  in  the 
place  in  which  it  is  found  ;  or  that  the  whole  mass  will  be  in  equi- 
librio  when  each  particular  particle  is  equally  pressed  in  every  direction. 
This  equality  of  pressure,  on  which  the  state  of  equilibrium  is  made 
to  depend,  is  demonstrated  by  experiment.  The  author  afterwards 
examines  the  conditions  which  ought  to  obtain,  in  order  that  a  solid 
homogeneous  body,  floating  on  a  fluid,  may  take  and  preserve  the  situ- 
ation of  equilibrium :  he  shows  that  the  centre  of  gravity  of  the  body, 
and  that  of  the  part  immersed,  must  be  situated  in  the  same  vertical 
right  line ;  that  the  weight  of  the  body  is  equal  to  the  portion  of  fluid 
displaced  by  it ;  that  the  body  will  be  entirely  immersed  when  its  spe- 
cific gravity  is  equal  to,  or  exceeds  that  of  the  fluid ;  and  other  princi- 
ples of  the  science  of  hydrostatics,  which  constitute  the  basis  of  the 
theory  of  present  times.  It  appears,  likewise,  from  his  investigations, 


348  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

that  two  bodies  of  equal  magnitude,  both  heavier  than  the  fluid  in 
which  they  are  immersed,  will  lose  equal  parts  of  their  weights  ;  and 
that  reciprocally,  when  the  weights  lost  in  the  same  fluid  are  equal, 
the  bodies  are  of  equal  magnitudes.  The  solution  of  the  well-known 
problem  of  Archimedes,  relative  to  the  crown  of  Hiero,  king  of  Syra- 
cuse, depends  on  the  above  principles. 
Screw  of  Besides  the  theoretical  principles  of  Hydrostatics,  we  owe  also  to 

Archimedes.    , -,  .         -,  .-,  i  j.  ,1  .  .  i      j        v 

this  philosopher,  according  to  some  authors,  an  ingenious  hydraulic 
engine,  called,  from  the  name  of  its  supposed  inventor,  the  screw  of 
Archimedes.  It  is  employed  in  elevating  water  to  small  heights ; 
and  is  very  simple  in  its  construction,  and  commodious  in  its  appli- 
cation. 

Diodorus  asserts,  that  Archimedes  invented  this  machine  in  his 
voyage  to  Egypt,  and  that  the  Egyptians  afterwards  employed  it  for 
the  purpose  of  draining  the  marshes  of  that  country ;  but  Vitruvius, 
a  contemporary  of  Diodorus,  does  not  enumerate  it  amongst  the  dis- 
coveries of  Archimedes,  of  whom  he  was  nevertheless  a  great  admirer  j 
and  Claudius  Perrault,  the  translator  and  commentator  of  Vitruvius, 
adds,  that  the  use  Diodorus  gives  to  this  machine,  namely,  that  it  was 
employed  to  render  Egypt  habitable,  by  draining  off  the  waters  with 
which  it  was  formerly  inundated,  makes  it  highly  probable  that  the 
engine  is  of  much  earlier  date  than  the  time  of  the  Syracusan  philo- 
sopher. If  this  conjecture  have  any  foundation,  let  us  not  mix  with 
the  legitimate  claims  of  Archimedes,  an  invention  which  may  be  con- 
tested with  him  :  he  is  too  rich  in  other  respects  to  render  important 
the  sacrifice  of  an  equivocal  right. 

ctesibiusand      About  a  century  after  Archimedes,  two  mathematicians   of  the 
Hero.  Alexandrian  school,  viz. :  Ctesibius,  and  Hero,  his  disciple,  invented 

thl^ump  °  the  pump,  the  siphon,  and  the  fountain  of  compression ;  the  latter  of 
and  siphon.  whlch  is  to  this  day  known  under  the  appellation  of  Hero's  fountain. 
We  owe  more  especially  to  Ctesibius,  a  machine  of  the  same  kind, 
composed  of  a  sucking  and  a  forcing  pump;  so  combined,  that  by  their 
alternate  action,  the  water  is  drawn  and  forced  into  a  tube  placed 
between  them.  The  effects  produced  by  these  machines  are  in 
truth  highly  curious  and  interesting,  and  doubtless  must  have  ap- 
peared very  extraordinary  to  their  original  inventors,  who,  not  know- 
ing to  what  principle  to  attribute  them,  had  recourse  to  their  grand 
scheme  of  occult  qualities,  so  commodious  for  explaining  all  the 
phenomena  of  nature.  The  water  rose  in  the  pumps,  according 
to  these  philosophers,  because  nature  abhorred  a  vacuum,  and 
consequently  the  place  abandoned  by  the  piston  was  immediately 
supplied  by  the  water :  we  know  not  whether  at  that  time  philoso- 
phers were  aware  of  the  limit  to  which  the  elevation  of  the  water  was 
confined;  but  we  do  know,  that  when  this  was  pointed  out  to  the 
great  Galileo,  the  father  of  modern  physics,  he  could  only  explain  it 
by  stating,  that  nature's  abhorrence  of  a  vacuum  only  extended  to 
about  thirty-three  or  thirty-four  feet !  Such  were  the  illustrations  of 


HYDROSTATICS.  349 

the  ancients  :  their  whole  science  consisted  in  the  operations  of  secret 
and  occult  powers ;  they  transferred  from  the  moral  to  the  physical 
world,  the  ideas  of  affection  and  hatred ;  both  celestial  and  terrestrial 
bodies  had  their  sympathies  and  antipathies ;  and  philosophers  con- 
sidered that  they  had  explained  a  phenomenon,  when  they  had,  after 
one  manner  or  another,  brought  it  under  the  influence  of  these  chi- 
merical agents. 

The  Clepsydra,  or  water-clock,  may  be  considered  as  an  hydraulic  Clepsydra, 
machine,  of  which  the  invention  is  attributable  to  the  Egyptians.  This 
instrument  indicated  the  hours  by  the  successive  elevations  of  the  water 
which  entered  into  a  vessel,  in  quantities,  regulated  according  to  the 
proposed  divisions  of  time,  or  by  means  of  a  hand,  which  the  falling 
water  caused  to  revolve  on  a  graduated  face  or  dial-plate.  Ctesibius, 
and  even  some  moderns,  as  Tycho  Brahe,  Dudley,  and  others,  have 
not  disdained  to  turn  their  attention  to  the  improvement  of  this 
machine ;  the  great  perfection,  however,  that  has  been  attained  in  the 
construction  of  clocks  and  wratches,  renders  the  clepsydra,  in  the 
present  day,  a  mere  matter  of  curiosity. 

Water-mills,  which  must  be  classed  amongst  the  most  valuable  Water-mills, 
hydraulic  engines,  were  also  an  ancient  invention,  of  the  date  of  which 
we  are  ignorant.  An  epigram  of  the  Greek  Anthology  seems  to  indi- 
cate that  water-mills  were  first  invented  in  the  time  of  Augustus  ;  but 
Vitruvius,  who  flourished  under  this  prince,  in  his  descriptions,  does 
not  speak  of  them  as  a  recent  invention;  it  is,  therefore,  highly  pro- 
bable that  they  were  known  long  before  that  period.  As  to  wind-mills,  Wind-mills, 
they  were  not  employed  in  Europe  till  long  after  water-mills  :  some 
authors  pretend,  that  the  former  were  first  invented  by  the  French  in 
the  sixth  century  of  the  Christian  era ;  while  others  assert  that  we 
owe  them  to  the  Crusaders,  who  brought  them  from  the  East,  where 
they  were  even  then  very  ancient ;  and  generally  preferred  to  water- 
mills,  in  consequence  of  the  sources  of  the  rivers  being  much  more 
rare  and  uncertain  in  those  countries  than  in  Europe.  But  whether 
they  are  the  invention,  or  merely  the  adoption  of  Europeans,  this  is 
certain— that  the  progress  of  their  improvement  was  very  slow,  and 
that  we  generally  prefer  the  use  of  water-mills  as  more  commodious 
and  regular  in  their  operation. 

Bossut,  when  speaking  of  these  ancient  and  important  constructions, 
observes,  "In  viewing  so  many  labours,  so  many  monuments  of 
human  genius,  the  man,  alive  to  gratitude,  asks,  to  whom  do  we  owe 
all  these  useful  and  sublime  discoveries  ?  What  honours,  what  recom- 
penses, have  these  benefactors  of  man  received  of  their  country,  or  of 
the  world  at  large  ?  history  commonly  answers  nothing  to  these  in- 
quiries :  while  great  pains  are  taken  to  transmit  the  names  and  the 
exploits  of  conquerors,  who  have  ravaged  the  earth,  and  left  traces  of 
misery  and  destruction  in  all  their  steps." 

It  is,  however,  only  the  construction  of  certain  hydraulic  engines 
that  we  owe  to  the  ancients ;  for  they  were  wholly  ignorant  of  any 


350  GEEEK  SCIENCE. 

theoretical  hydraulic  principle :  we  may,  therefore,  easily  conceive, 
that  their  first  attempts  were  very  rude  and  imperfect,  and  the  defects 
of  one  machine  were  their  only  lessons  for  the  construction  of  others 
less  imperfect ;  and  it  was  thus,  by  successive  attempts,  and  reiterated 
experiments  and  failures,  that  they  were  led  by  degrees  to  that  state 
of  perfection  to  which  they  ultimately  attained. 

Frontinus,          To  Sextus  Julius  Frontinus  is  commonly  attributed  the  first  theo- 

first  theorist.  r^c  notions  of  the  motion  of  fluids.     This  author  was  inspector  of 

the  public  fountains  of  Rome,  under  the  emperors  Nerva  and  Trajan, 

and  he  left,  on  this  subject,  a  work  entitled  '  De  aquaeductibus  urbis 

Romse  commentarms.' 

In  this  treatise,  the  author  first  describes  the  aqueducts  of  Rome, 
cites  the  names  of  those  which  the  Romans  had  constructed,  and  the 
dates  of  their  constructions ;  he  then  fixes  and  compares  with  each 
other  the  measures  of  capacity  which  he  employed  at  Rome  for  measur- 
ing the  products  of  the  adjutages.  Thence  he  passes  to  a  description 
of  the  means  of  distributing  the  waters  of  an  aqueduct,  or  of  a  fountain. 
On  these  subjects  he  made  several  correct  observations ;  for  example, 
he  showed  that  the  quantity  of  water  issuing  from  an  adjutage,  did 
not  wholly  depend  upon  its  magnitude  or  superficies,  but  that  the  height 
of  the  reservoir  above  it  must  also  be  considered ;  a  very  obvious  fact, 
but  yet  such  an  one  as  some  more  recent  constructors  have  neglected 
to  introduce  into  their  investigations.  He  knew,  also,  that  the  tube 
designed  to  carry  off  part  of  the  water  of  an  aqueduct,  ought  to  have, 
according  to  circumstances,  a  position  more  or  less  oblique  with  respect 
to  the  course  of  the  fluid,  &c.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  however,  he 
did  not  exhibit  a  mathematical  precision  on  this  subject ;  for  he  did 
not  know  the  correct  law  which  obtained  between  the  velocity  of  the 
adjutage,  and  the  height  of  the  reservoir. 

No  other  ancient  author  approximated  in  any  mariner  towards  a 
theoretical  view  of  the  principle  of  hydraulics ;  we  are,  therefore,  com- 
pletely justified  in  claiming  the  honour  of  the  discovery  of  this  science 
as  wholly  due  to  the  moderns. 

IV.  PNEUMATICS. 

As  the  science  of  Pneumatics  is  in  a  great  measure  involved  in  the 
general  doctrine  of  the  theory  of  fluids,  many  branches  of  its  history 
are  so  connected  with  that  of  hydrodynamics,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
separate  them  from  it ;  and,  accordingly,  many  of  the  circumstances 
given  under  the  latter  head  will  equally  apply  to  the  former.  There 
is,  however,  one  important  distinction :  most  of  the  properties  of  water 
are  striking  and  obvious,  while  those  of  air  are  hidden  and  obscure ; 
that  water  is  a  heavy  body  is  a  fact  which  must  have  been  known 
from  the  earliest  observations,  but  the  gravitating  properties  of  atmo- 
spheric air  were  by  no  means  so  evident,  and  therefore  long  remained 
a  matter  of  doubt,  even  after  the  idea  of  its  ponderability  had  been 


PNEUMATICS.  351 

suggested.  That  some  of  the  ancients  had  formed  certain  vague  ideas 
of  the  gravitating  power  of  the  air,  is  obvious  from  many  of  their 
works  still  extant ;  but  their  notions  were  very  confused,  and  involved 
in  considerable  obscurity.  Thus  Aristotle  says,  that  all  the  elements  Aristotle. 
have  weight,  with  the  exception  of  fire;  adding,  that  a  bladder  inflated 
with  air  will  weigh  more  than  when  it  is  quite  empty.  (De  Caelo, 
lib.  iv.  c.  i.  op.  torn.  i.  p.  485.)  Plutarch  and  Stobasus  quote 
Aristotle  as  teaching  that  the  weight  of  air  is  between  that  of  fire  and 
earth;  and  the  latter  philosopher  himself  quotes  Empedocles  as 
attributing  the  act  of  respiration  to  the  pressure  of  the  air,  by  which  it 
insinuates  itself  into  the  lungs.  Again,  Plutarch  (De  Placit.,  lib.  iv. 
c.  xxii.  torn.  ii.  p.  903)  expresses,  in  similar  terms,  the  opinion  of 
Asclepiades  on  this  subject,  and  represents  him  as  saying,  that  the 
external  air,  by  its  weight,  opened  its  way  by  force  into  the  breast. 
Hero  of  Alexandria,  in  his  work  '  Spiritalia,'  applies  the  principle  of  Ctesibiusand 
the  elasticity  of  the  air  to  produce  and  explain  various  effects,  in  such  Hero> 
a  way,  as  sufficiently  to  convince  us  that  he  was  no  stranger  to  several 
of  the  properties  of  atmospheric  air ;  and  Ctesibius,  adopting  the  prin- 
ciple of  its  elasticity,  constructed  wind-guns,  which  afterwards  passed 
for  modern  inventions.  There  is,  however,  some  difference  between 
the  ancient  and  modern  air-gun :  in  that  of  Ctesibius,  for  example,  the 
ball  was  not  immediately  exposed  to  the  action  of  the  air,  but  was 
impelled  by  the  longer  arm  of  a  lever,  while  the  air  acted  on  the 
shorter ;  but  the  principle  of  operation  is  the  same  in  both,  and  shows 
clearly  that  the  elastic  property  of  common  air,  if  it  could  not  be  accu- 
rately measured,  was  at  least  known  at  that  period.  To  this  philo- 
sopher is  also  commonly  attributed  the  invention  of  the  sucking-pump. 

Hero,  to  whom  we  have  above  referred,  was  a  contemporary  and 
scholar  of  Ctesibius ;  he  describes  in  his  treatise  '  On  Pneumatics,'  a 
number  of  very  ingenious  inventions,  a  few  of  which  are  calculated  for 
utility,  but  the  greater  part  only  for  amusement ;  they  are  principally 
siphons,  variously  concealed  and  combined,  fountains  and  water-organs, 
besides  the  syringe  and  fire-engine.  This  machine  is  said  to  agree  in 
principle  with  the  common  engine  of  the  present  day ;  it  consists  of 
two  barrels,  discharging  the  water  alternately  into  an  air-vessel ;  and 
it  appears,  from  Vitruvius,  that  this  was  the  original  form  in  which 
Ctesibius  invented  the  pump.  Hero  supposes  the  possibility  of  a 
vacuum  in  the  intervals  of  the  particles  of  a  body,  observing,  that 
without  it  no  substance  could  be  compressible  ;  but  he  imagined  that 
a  vacuum  could  not  have  existed  throughout  a  perceptible  space,  and 
thence  derives  the  principle  of  suction.  The  air  contained  in  a  given 
cavity,  he  says,  may  be  rarefied  by  sucking  out  a  part  of  it,  and  he 
describes  a  cupping  instrument,  which  approaches  very  nearly  to  an 
imperfect  air-pump. 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  at  this  time,  viz.  (B.  c.  100),  many  of  the 
properties  of  air  were  fully  understood,  particularly  its  gravity  and 
elasticity;  but  the  followers  of  these  philosophers,  abandoning  the 


352 


GREEK  SCIENCE. 


opinions  of  their  masters,  maintained  a  different  doctrine,  and  invented 
many  absurd  hypotheses  to  account  for  the  operations  of  the  various 
machines  above  alluded  to. 


Mirrors. 


Hebrew 
mirrors. 


V.  OPTICS. 

It  would  be  more  easy  to  become  the  encomiast  of  this  science  than 
to  trace  its  history ;  for  there  is  no  department  of  philosophy  more 
deserving  of  our  study,  whether  we  consider  its  beauty  or  the  multi- 
plicity of  its  phenomena.  Air,  which  serves  as  the  medium  of  speech, 
and  the  vehicle  of  sound,  enables  us  to  carry  on  an  intellectual  inter-  • 
course  with  our  fellow- creatures ;  but  how  considerably  is  that  inter- 
course improved  and  facilitated  by  light,  which  brings  before  us  their 
image — their  image  which  tells  us  so  much  of  their  character  and  of 
their  thoughts!  The  eye,  so  susceptible  of  multifarious  impressions, 
conveys  to  the  mind  ideas  of  the  forms  by  which  bodies  are  limited, 
the  colours  by  which  they  are  adorned,  their  relative  positions,  and 
their  motions.  By  a  single  look  this  admirable  organ  enables  us  to 
seize  the  indefinite  modifications  of  the  numerous  objects  that  diversify 
our  richest  landscapes ;  and  when  it  becomes  aided  by  the  instruments 
furnished  by  our  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  reflection  and  refraction,  it 
contemplates  the  two  kinds  of  infinity  that  would  otherwise  have  re- 
mained unknown — that  of  animalcule  and  of  small  inanimate  objects, 
imperceptible  by  reason  of  their  minuteness — and  that  of  the  celestial 
bodies,  invisible  by  reason  of  their  remoteness  ;  thus  opening  to  natural 
history  a  new  field,  to  astronomy  a  new  heaven,  and  inviting  us  suc- 
cessfully to  contemplate  the  universe  of  the  poet : — 

"  Without  bound, 

Without  dimension,  where  length,  breadth,  and  height, 

And  time  and  place  are  lost." 

But  our  present  employment  must  not  be  that  of  eulogy. 

The  ancients  for  several  centuries  seem,  as  was  naturally  to  be  ex- 
pected, to  have  had  no  knowledge  of  the  theory  of  optics,  and  to  have 
made  no  advances  of  consequence  in  the  construction  of  optical  instru- 
ments. The  observance  of  a  straight  rod,  partially  immersed  in  water, 
would  suggest  to  them  the  idea  of  refraction ;  and  the  sight  of  their 
own  image,  reflected  from  the  smooth  surface  of  a  quiescent  liquid, 
would  naturally  lead  them  to  attempt  the  construction  of  artificial 
mirrors.  Accordingly,  we  find  mention  not  merely  of  mirrors,  but  of 
metallic  mirrors,  in  the  earliest  writings  now  extant,  those  of  Moses. 
In  Exodus  xxxviii.  8,  though  Luther,  and  some  few  after  him,  trans- 
late the  passage  "  He  made  the  hand-bason  of  brass,  and  its  stand  also 
of  brass,  in  the  presence  of  the  women  who  served  before  the  door  of 
the  tabernacle;"  yet  they  have  been  censured  for  this,  since  the  Sep- 
tuagint,  the  Vulgate,  the  English,  and  the  Dutch  Bibles,  agree  in 
translating  '  Beramoth'  "  of  the  mirrors,"  made,  say  many  of  the  com- 
mentators, of  polished  brass.  In  the  book  of  Job,  too,  now  generally 


OPTICS.  353 

assigned  by  biblical  critics  to  Moses  as  the  author,  we  have  (xxxvii.  18) 
in  the  address  of  Elihu  to  his  afflicted  friend,  the  inquiry : — 

"  Hast  thou  with  him  [God]  spread  out  the  heavens, 
Polished  as  a  molten-mirror?" 

Pliny  assures  us1  that  the  pagan  women,  when  attending  the  worship 
of  their  deities,  were  ornamented  with  metallic  mirrors ;  and  it  seems 
extremely  probable,  as  Cyril,  of  Alexandria,  has  affirmed,2  that  the 
Israelitish  women  borrowed  this  custom  from  the  Egyptians,  and 
attempted  to  introduce  it  into  their  own  worship.  These  early  mirrors 
were  flat,  and  so  they  appear  to  have  been,  generally,  down  to  the  time 
of  Prasitelis,  who  lived  in  the  reign  of  Pompey  the  Great. 

His  mirrors  chiefly  consisted  of  hammered  plates  of  pure  silver,  as  Prasiteiis's 
we  learn  from  the  words  of  Pliny : — "  Lamina  duci  et  specula  fieri  mi"cjs'60 
non  nisi  ex  optimo  (argento)  posse  creditum  fuerat."  But  the  silver 
was  sometimes  mixed  with  other  metals : — "  Id  quaque  jam  fraude 
corrumpitur."  Pliny  further  informs  us,  that  "  Specula  quoque  ex  eo 
(stanno)  laudatissima,  Brandusii  temperabuntur,  donee  argenteis  uti 
caspere  et  ancillse."  Highly-praised  mirrors  were  manufactured  at 
Brundusium,  till  the  very  maid-servants  began  to  use  silver  ones.  The 
monster,  Nero,  who  it  seems  was  short-sighted,  employed  as  a  mirror 
an  emerald,  reduced  to  a  polished  surface,  on  which  he  viewed  by  re- 
flection, the  combats  of  the  gladiators.  Here,  however,  is  no  optical 
science. 

Aristotle  is  the  earliest  author  whose  writings  on  the  subject  of  Aristotle, 
optics  have  reached  our  times;   but,  unfortunately,  he  has  not  been    B>c-350' 
more  successful  in  this  branch  of  research  than  he  was  in  reference  to 
mechanics.     His  speculations  on  the  nature  of  the  rainbow,  on  the 
manner  in  which  we  perceive  objects,  and  on  different  optical  pheno- 
mena, are  not  merely  crude,  but  generally  erroneous;    and  in  his 
treatise,  Hepl  Xpo/zarw*',  '  De  Coloribus,'  everything  is  so  vague  and 
foreign  from  correctness  of  explication,  that  we  should  not  hold  our- 
selves justified  in  presenting  any  detail. 

Soon  after  Aristotle,  the  celebrated  geometer  Euclid  composed  a  Euclid, 
book  on  this  subject.    It  appears  under  the  title,  'OTTTIKO.  (neuter  plural),.    B* c>  300' 
and  has  been  sometimes  ascribed  to  another  author  bearing  the  same 
name. ,  We  are  of  opinion,  however,  that  it  fairly  belongs  to  the 
geometrician,  and  that  it  is  the  '  Introduction'  only  which  was  written 
by  another  hand.     As  the  deductions  of  Euclid,  though  founded  upon 
a  wrong  hypothesis,  are  curious,  considering  the  state  of  mixed  mathe- 
matics  at  the  epoch  in   which  they  appeared,  we  shall  present  a 
synopsis  of  them  in  this  place. 

Light  propagates  itself  in  right  lines,  as  is  shown  by  the  shadows  of  Propositions, 
bodies,  and  by  the  passage  of  light  through  a  door  or  window. 

If  the  luminous  object  be  equal  to  the  object  illuminated,  the  sections 

1  Lib.  xxxiii.  c.  9  ;  lib.  xxxiv.  c.  17. 

2  Lib.  ii.     De  Adoratione  in  Spiritu. 

[G.  E.  P.]  2  A 


354  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

of  the  shadow  are  equal  to  the  object,  because  the  extreme  rays  are 
parallel.  If  the  illuminated  body  be  less  than  the  luminous  body,  the 
shadow  will  gradually  diminish :  on  the  contrary,  if  the  illuminated 
body  be  largest,  the  shadow  will  become  gradually  larger  and  larger. 

Hypothesis.  Visual  rays  issue  from  the  eyes  in  diverging  right  lines, 
so  as  to  form  a  pyramid,  or  cone,  whose  vertex  is  in  the  eye,  and  whose 
base  encircles  the  object  which  we  contemplate.  Objects  to  which 
these  rays  are  directed  are  seen  by  us ;  but  we  cannot  see  those  to- 
wards which  these  visual  lines  do  not  point. 

Objects  appear  larger,  smaller,  or  equal,  according  as  the  angles 
under  which  we  see  them,  are  greater,  less,  or  equal.  The  object  is 
always  seen  in  the  direction  of  the  visual  ray ;  and  those  which  are 
seen  by  the  greatest  number  of  rays  are  most  distinct. 

We  never  see  the  whole  of  an  object.  Of  two  equal  objects,  the 
nearest  will  be  seen  most  distinctly.  Every  visible  object  becomes 
invisible  at  a  certain  distance. 

Of  equal  parts  of  a  right  line,  those  which  are  most  remote  are  seen 
under  the  smallest  angle,  and  appear  smallest. 

Equal  magnitudes,  seen  at  unequal  distances,  appear  unequal ;  that 
which  is  nearest  will  appear  greatest. 

Parallel  lines,  viewed  from  a  distance,  appear  to  converge. 
If  a  horizontal  surface  be  lower  than  the  eye,  the  part  which  is  most 
remote  will  appear  to  be  elevated :  if  the  horizontal  surface  be  higher 
than  the  eye,  the  most  remote  portion  will  appear  depressed. 

A  circle,  viewed  in  the  direction  of  its  own  plane,  will  appear  as  a 
right  line. 

When  we  look  at  a  sphere  with  one  eye,  we  never  see  so  much  as 
its  half. 

Viewed  from  a  distance,  a  sphere  appears  as  a  circle. 
When  we  look  at  a  sphere  with  both  eyes,  if  its  diameter  be  equal 
to  the  distance  between  the  two  pupils,  we  see  its  half:  if  the  interval 
between  the  pupils  be  greater,  we  see  more  than  half;  if  the  said  in- 
terval be  less,  less  than  the  sphere  half  will  be  seen. 

If  we  look  at  a  cylinder  with  one  eye,  we  shall  not  see  its  half;  as 
we  approach  nearer  to  it,  we  see  less  and  less. 

If  the  eye  be  in  a  line  that  passes  through  the  centre  of  a  circle  per- 
pendicularly to  its  plane,  all  the  radii  of  the  circle  appear  equal. 
A  circle,  seen  obliquely,  appears  flattened  or  contracted. 
If  several  objects  are  in  motion,  and  only  one  quiescent,  that  one 
will  seem  to  move  in  a  contrary  direction. 

If  several  bodies  move  with  unequal  velocities,  and  the  eye  is 
carried  along  in  the  same  direction,  those  objects  which  have  the  same 
velocity  as  the  eye  will  appear  stationary ;  those  which  have  greater 
velocities  will  appear  to  advance,  while  those  which  have  less  velocities 
will  seem  to  recede. 

If  several  objects  have  equal  velocities,  those  which  are  most  remote 
will  appear  to  move  most  slowly. 


OPTICS.  355 

If  the  eye  advance,  distant  objects  will  appear  to  be  left  behind. 
If  an  object  appear  to  augment,  we  judge  that  it  is  approaching 
towards  the  eye. 

Objects  unequally  distant,  which  are  not  in  a  right  line,  may  some- 
times give  the  idea  of  a  concave  surface,  and,  at  others,  the  idea  of  a 
convex  surface. 

These  propositions  relate  to  direct  vision :  there  are  a  few  which 
relate  to  reflection.     Among  these  we  find  the  problem,  to  find  the  Problem, 
height  of  an  object  by  its  shadow,  or,  in  the  absence  of  the  sun,  by 
means  of  a  mirror,  on  the  principle  of  the  equality  of  the  angles  of 
incidence  and  reflection. 

Euclid  also  attempts  to  determine  the  burning  point  of  a  concave 
spherical  mirror,  but  errs  in  his  conclusion ;  for  he  supposes  that  this 
point  is  the  centre  of  the  concavity,  or  the  centre  of  the  sphere. 

How  long  this  error  in  theoretical  deduction  remained  unconnected, 
it  is  not  easy  to  say :  it  is  well  known  that  the  ancients  employed 
concave  mirrors  to  rekindle  the  vestal  fires.     Plutarch,  in  his  '  Life  of 
Numa,'  gives  a  description,  not  very  distinct,  however,  of  the  cxce^tta,  Numa. 
or  dishes,  which  they  thus  employed.     They  seem  to  have  been  con-    B-c-  71°- 
cave  polished  hemispheres,  or  segments  nearly  hemispherical;   and     A.C. 98. 
Plutarch  tells  us,  that  the  combustible  matter  was  placed  in  their 
centre.     This  could  not  be ;  for  the  focus  is  at  the  distance  of  half  the 
radius. 

Imperfect,  however,  as  the  theory  appears  to  have  been,  there  can 
be  no  question  that  the  practice  of  setting  fire  to  substances  by  placing 
them  in  the  foci  of  catoptric  and  dioptric  instruments,  was  known 
some  centuries  before  the  Christian  era.    In  addition  to  what  is  already  Socrates, 
adduced,  we  may  cite  a  passage  from  the  *  Clouds'  of  Aristophanes,  in    ?• 
which  he  introduces  Socrates  as  giving  lessons  to  Strepsiades.     The 
object  of  the  dramatist  is  to  ridicule  the  philosopher.     Strepsiades 
proposes  an  expedient  by  means  of  which  he  intends  to  pay  his 
debts : — 

"  Strep.  You  have  seen  at  the  druggists  that  fine  transparent  stone 
with  which  fires  are  kindled. 

"  Soc.  You  mean  glass,  do  you  not  ? 
"  Strep.  Just  so. 

"  Soc.  Well,  what  will  you  do  with  that  ? 

"  Strep.  When  a  summons  is  sent  to  me  I  will  take  this  stone,  and, 
placing  myself  in  the  sun,  I  will,  though  at  a  distance,  melt  all  the 
writing  of  the  summons." 

Writing,  in  those  times,  was  traced  on  wax  spread  upon  a  more 
solid  substance.  Hence  we  see  why  Strepsiades  should  propose  to 
melt  the  writing. 

From  this  use  of  burning  glasses,  the  transition  to  the  mirrors,  said  Archimedes* 
to  have  been  employed  by  Archimedes,  is  not  either  so  extraordinary,  JjJJJJjjy 
or  so  difficult,  as  has  been  usually  imagined.     It  has  been  repeatedly     B.C. 218. 
affirmed,  on  the  authority  of  Hero,  Diodorus  Siculus,  Lucian,  and 

2  A2 


356 


GREEK   SCIENCE. 


Zonaras. 
A.C.  1160. 


Proclus. 
A.C.  514. 


Tzetzes. 
A.C.  1160. 


Napier. 
A.C.  1596. 


Pappus,  that  Archimedes,  by  means  of  burning  mirrors,  set  fire  to  the 
Roman  fleet  that  was  drawn  up  to  besiege  Syracuse.  This,  however, 
has  been  often  denied.  Descartes,  and  many  after  him,  have  regarded 
the  thing  as  impossible.  To  the  discussion  of  this  question  we  cannot 
devote  much  space ;  it  will  be  expected,  however,  that  we  do  not  pass 
it  over  in  total  silence. 

Father  Kircher,  although  he  was  among  the  incredulous,  in  reference 
to  the  Archimedean  mirrors,  concluded  from  an  actual  survey  of  the 
site  of  the  town  and  harbour  of  Syracuse,  that  the  distance  to  which 
the  philosopher  had  to  project  the  solar  rays  was  not  more  than  thirty 
paces.  And  whatever  may  have  been  the  doubts  formerly  entertained 
on  this  subject,  it  is  now  well  known,  that  the  solar  rays  may,  after 
reflection,  be  thrown  to  an  effective  focus  at  a  much  greater  distance 
than  this.  Our  deduction  will  not  be  speculative,  but  historical. 

Zonaras  affirms,  from  the  authorities  above  specified,  that  Archi- 
medes set  fire  to  the  Roman  fleet  by  means  of  the  solar  rays  collected 
and  reflected  by  a  polished  mirror.  He  then  adds,  that  Proclus, 
copying  his  example,  burnt  with  mirrors  of  brass  the  fleet  of  Vitalian, 
who  besieged  Constantinople,  under  the  emperor  Anastasius,  in  the 
year  514. 

Tzetzes,  who  also  quotes  the  same  authorities,  presents  a  particular 
explication  of  the  mechanism  of  Archimedes'  burning  mirrors.  "  When 
Marcellus  (says  he),  had  removed  his  fleet  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
darts,  Archimedes  brought  into  play  a  hexagonal  mirror,  composed  of 
several  other  smaller  mirrors,  each  of  which  had  twenty-four  angles, 
and  which  could  be  moved  by  means  of  their  hinges,  and  of  certain 
plates  of  metal.  He  placed  this  mirror  in  such  a  position  that  it  was 
in  the  midst  of  the  meridional  solar  rays  both  in  summer  and  in  winter ; 
so  that  those  rays,  being  received  on  the  mirror,  were  reflected  by  it, 
and  kindled  such  a  fire  as  reduced  the  Roman  vessels  to  ashes."  This 
is  much  such  a  description  as  might  naturally  be  expected  from  a 
person  not  skilled  in  either  optics  or  mechanics ;  and  such  a  person  was 
Tzetzes. 

A  very  obscure  hint,  however,  is  sufficient  to  bring  real  genius  into 
action ;  and  it  is  highly  probable,  that  the  celebrated  Napier,  putting  a 
happy  construction  upon  the  words  of  Tzetzes,  recovered  the  admir- 
able invention  of  Archimedes.  In  a  paper  of  Napier's,  bearing  date 
June  2,  1596,  and  containing  hints  of  secret  inventions,  we  meet  with 
the  following : — 

"  The  invention,  proof,  and  perfect  demonstration,  geometrical  and 
algebraical,  of  a  burning  mirror,  which,  receiving  of  dispersed  beams  of 
the  sun,  doth  reflex  the  same  beams  altogether  united,  and  concurring 
precisely  in  one  mathematical  point,  in  the  which  point  most  neces- 
sarily it  engendereth  fire ;  with  an  evident  demonstration  of  their  error, 
who  affirm  this  to  be  made  a  parabolic  section.  The  use  of  this  in- 
vention serveth  for  the  burning  of  the  enemy's  ships  at  whatsoever 
appointed  distance. 


OPTICS.  357 

2ndly.  "  The  invention  and  sure  demonstration  of  another  mirror 
which,  receiving  the  dispersed  beams  of  any  material  fire,  or  flame, 
yieldeth  also  the  former  effect,  and  serveth  for  the  like  use." 

Long  after  this,  viz.,  in  1726,  M.  Du  Fay  found  that  "  at  200,  300, 
and  even  as  far  as  600  French  feet  (about  640  English),  the  rays  of  A<c' 17! 
the  sun  received  on  a  plane  mirror,  one  foot  square,  and  thence  reflected 
to  a  concave  one,  17  inches  in  diameter,  consumed  combustible  bodies 
in  the  focus  of  the  latter." 

The  success  of  this  interesting  experiment,  doubtless,  stimulated  Buffon. 
Buffon  to  attempt  the  production  of  fire  at  a  distance,  after  the  manner    A*  °* 1' 
of  Archimedes,  by  one  reflection  only.    In  the  year  1 747,  after  various 
trials  with   combinations  of  plane   mirrors    (in   number   sometimes 
amounting  to  400),  placed  in  a  square  frame,  and  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  object  by  means  of  screws,  he  succeeded  in  melting  lead  and 
tin  at  the  distance  of  about  50  English  yards ;  and  in  burning  lighter 
substances,  at  the  distance  of  75  yards.     This  was  affected  in  March 
and  April.     With  summer  heat,  and  a  better  apparatus,  he  expresses 
a  certainty  of  producing  combustion  at  more  than  140  of  our  yards ;  a 
distance,  probably,  double  that  at  which  Archimedes  produced  his 
conflagration.    Since  the  publication  of  Buffon's  results,  the  scepticism 
which  prevailed  in  reference  to  the  burning  mirror  of  Archimedes  has 
been  rapidly  wearing  away.     The  philosopher  had  not  to  invent  the 
apparatus  for  the  purpose,  but  simply  to  apply  what  he  had  previously 
invented.     With  regard  to  the  probable  construction  of  Archimedes' 
apparatus,  since  this  would  not  be  the  proper  place  to  enter  into  detail, 
we  refer  to  the  speculations  in  Peyrard's  edition  of  Archimedes,  torn.  Peyrard. 
ii.,  pp.  464 — 508.     We  must  now  return  to  the  point  at  which  we    A<  c* 18 
commenced  this  inquiry. 

In  the  same  century  with  Archimedes,  lived  Ptolemy  Euergetes,  Ptolemy 
celebrated  by  historians  for  causing  to  be  placed  on  the  tower  of  the 
Pharos  at  Alexandria,  a  mirror,  which  represented  accurately  all  that 
was  done  on  water  or  land  within  its  scope ;  and  by  means  of  which, 
as  some  authors  relate,  an  enemy's  fleet  was  seen  at  the  distance  of 
600,000  paces.  We  do  not  hold  ourselves  responsible  for  the  truth 
of  this.  Father  Abat,  whose  '  Amusemens  Philosophiques'' were  pub- 
lished in  1763,  has  an  ingenious  attempt  to  prove  the  probable  exist- 
ence of  such  a  mirror  at  the  time  specified ;  and  a  copious  abridgment 
of  his  arguments,  by  a  very  able  writer,  was  given  in  the  nineteenth 
volume  of  Tilloch's  '  Philosophical  Magazine.' 

Among  the  writings  which  still  remain  of  the  celebrated  Claudius  Ptolemy  th 
Ptolemy,  the  Alexandrian  astronomer,  is  one  on  Optics.     It  is  com- 
prised  in  five  discourses,  or  books,  of  which  the  first  is  lost ;  most  part 
of  the  remaining  four  are  preserved,  and  have  been  carefully  examined 
in  the  manuscripts,  both  by  Delambre  and  by  Venturi. 

Although,  as  we  have  just  remarked,  the  first  book  is  wanting,  we 
are  not  entirely  ignorant  of  its  contents,  because  each  book  commences 
with  a  recapitulation  of  what  had  been  taught  in  the  former.  Thus 


358  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

we  learn,  that  the  first  book  treated  of  the  relations  between  light  and 
vision,  of  their  resemblance  and  of  their  difference.  It  was  probably  a 
philosophical  dissertation  after  the  manner  of  Aristotle.  Ptolemy 
supposes  that  vision  is  effected  by  means  of  a  pyramid  of  visual  rays, 
of  which  the  vertex  is  at  the  eye,  and  the  base  at  the  object  seen.  This 
agrees  with  the  notions  of  Euclid :  some  writers,  earlier  than  either  of 
these,  taught,  as  the  moderns  do,  that  the  rays  of  light  proceed  from 
the  visible  object ;  but  this  notion  had  few  partizans,  while  the  notions 
of  Euclid  and  Ptolemy  prevailed  extensively.  Vision  by  the  axis  of 
the  pyramid  is,  according  to  Ptolemy,  more  correct  and  perfect  than 
that  by  oblique  rays.  Vision  makes  bodies  known,  reveals  their  mag- 
nitude, colour,  figure,  rest,  and  motion  ;  but  all  this  requires  light. 

Shadows  are  not  seen :  we  know  them  only  by  privation. 

We  can  see  better  with  two  eyes  than  with  one :  with  one  only  we 
do  not  see  the  object  precisely  at  the  same  place  as  with  two.  We 
see  the  object  simple,  if  the  two  axes  of  the  pyramids  are  directed  in 
the  same  manner  upon  the  object ;  we  see  the  same  object  double,  if 
the  axes  are  not  directed  naturally,  and  if  the  distance  is  a  little  less 
than  that  between  the  two  eyes. 

Colour  makes  part  of  bodies,  it  is  the  exterior  crust.  The  eye  per- 
ceives the  direction  of  the  visual  ray  which  it  sends  towards  the  body ; 
it  perceives,  in  like  manner,  the  length ;  it  judges  of  the  magnitude  of 
the  object,  from  the  length  of  the  pyramid  combined  with  the  mag- 
nitude of  its  base.  If  the  humidity  of  the  visual  ray  be  promptly  dis- 
sipated, bodies  are  seen  better  when  near ;  if  it  be  slowly  dissipated, 
they  are  seen  better  at  a  distance. 

That  which  causes  certain  persons  to  see  better  than  others,  is  the 
abundance  of  the  visual  virtue ;  which,  like  all  other  faculties,  fails  in 
old  men. 

The  moon  has  a  colour  which  is  peculiar  to  it,  and  which  is  only 
perceived  in  eclipses. 

When  we  have  long  contemplated  an  object  highly  coloured,  and 
then  direct  our  eyes  to  another  object,  we  attribute  to  that  the  colour 
of  the  former. 

Things  which  we  see  by  reflection  partake  of  the  colour  of  the 
mirror ;  as  those  which  we  see  through  a  diaphanous,  or  transparent 
body,  assume  its  colour. 

When  we  observe  a  fire  or  a  light  at  the  horizon,  beyond  a  pool  of 
water,  we  perceive  a  long  luminous  train  which  follows  our  motion. 

A  sail  seen  from  far,  appears  more  curved  than  it  is  in  fact ;  because 
the  middle,  which  is  seen  directly,  is  perceived  better  than  the  edges, 
which  appear  to  fly.  Thus  painters,  when  they  would  excite  the  idea 
of  anything  concave,  give  a  less  vivid  tint  to  the  middle  than  to  the 
edges ;  and  the  contrary,  if  they  would  give  the  idea  of  convexity. 

Similar  to  these  are  the  remaining  speculations  in  the  second  book. 

In  the  third  book  Ptolemy  proceeds  to  the  subject  of  mirrors.  The 
principal  propositions  are  these : — In  the  plane  mirror,  the  object  is 


OPTICS.  359 

seen  in  the  continuation  of  the  perpendicular  let  fall  from  the  object 
itself  upon  the  plane,  and  as  far  behind  the  plane  as  the  object  is  before 
it.  This  had  been  previously  taught  by  Euclid;  as  had  been  the 
equality  of  the  angles  of  incidence  and  reflection. 

Ptolemy  then  recurs  to  the  consideration  of  objects  which  appear  in 
different  places  at  the  same  time,  though  simple ;  and  to  those  which, 
though  more  than  two,  appear  in  one  and  the  same  place.  We 
cannot  detail  his  speculations  on  these  points,  but  must  limit  ourselves 
to  one  only,  and  that  relating  to  astronomy.  "  It  results  (says  he) 
from  the  preceding,  that  of  things  which  are  in  the  sky  and  subtend 
equal  angles,  those  which  are  nearest  the  zenith  ought  to  appear  less, 
and  those  which  are  near  the  horizon  appear  greater ;  because  we  see 
the  latter  in  a  manner  to  which  we  are  more  accustomed.  Elevated 
objects  are  seen  in  a  way  with  which  we  are  less  familiar,  and  with 
difficulty  of  action."  Thus,  according  to  Ptolemy,  the  moon  in  the 
zenith  appears  smaller;  because  he  who  looks  towards  the  zenith,  is 
in  a  less  natural  position  than  when  he  looks  at  any  object  posited 
horizontally. 

The  author  next  returns  to  plane  mirrors,  and  shows  that  in  them 
objects  are  not  disfigured ;  but  that  the  right  becomes  the  left,  and 
vice  versa. 

In  concave  mirrors,  objects  appear  concave ;  in  convex  mirrors,  they 
appear  convex.  In  convex  mirrors  objects  seem  diminished.  Thus, 
also,  taught  Euclid. 

In  a  concave  mirror,  a  curve  line  may,  according  to  circumstances, 
appear  either  convex,  concave,  or  rectilineal.  In  a  convex  mirror, 
objects  appear  on  the  side  on  which  they  really  are ;  yet,  by  reason  of 
our  habit  of  judging,  the  right  will  seem  to  be  on  the  left,  and  the  left 
on  the  right. 

Ptolemy's  fourth  book  relates  principally  to  concave  mirrors. 

He  treats  of  the  place  of  the  image,  and  shows  when  it  may  be 
upon  the  surface  of  the  mirror ;  when  before  that  surface,  when  behind 
the  eye,  when  behind  the  mirror. 

When  the  image  is  behind  the  mirror,  the  distance  of,  the  object 
from  the  mirror  is  less  than  that  of  the  image. 

When  the  image  is  between  the  eye  and  the  mirror,  the  distance  of 
the  object  from  the  eye,  will  be  greater,  equal,  or  less,  than  the  dis- 
tance of  the  image  from  the  mirror,  according  to  circumstances. 

When  the  object  is  between  the  eye  and  the  mirror,  it  appears  in  a 
different  place  from  that  in  which  it  really  is ;  and  when  we  move  it 
in  one  direction,  it  will  appear  to  move  in  the  contrary  one. 

Ptolemy  next  passes  to  the  consideration  of  mirrors  compounded  of 
a  plane  and  a  concave,  or  of  a  convex  and  a  concave ;  and  explains  the 
cases  in  which  the  image  is  direct  or  inverted,  augmented  or  dimi- 
nished ;  after  which  he  traces  the  peculiarities  of  pyramidal  mirrors 
with  circular  or  polygonal  bases,  having  the  eye  placed  in  the  axis  of 
the  pyramid.  In  all  this  Ptolemy  never  determines  the  precise  point 


360  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

of  reflection,  when  the  place  of  the  eye  and  that  of  the  image  are 
known  :  he  satisfies  himself  with  showing,  generally,  that  the  object  is 
before  or  behind  the  mirror,  or  the  eye,  or  nearer  to  the  mirror,  or 
more  remote  than  the  eye ;  the  relations  being  not  measured,  but  indi- 
cated vaguely. 

The  fifth  book  of  Ptolemy's  '  Optics'  contains  his  researches  into  the 
nature  of  refraction. 

He  explains  the  experiment  of  the  piece  of  money  so  placed  in  a 
vessel  that  its  edges  render  it  invisible,  until  water  is  poured  in,  when 
the  money  is  brought  into  sight,  while  it  has  remained  quiescent. 
After  this,  he  proceeds  to  a  curious  set  of  experiments,  which  we 
cannot  here  detail,  in  order  to  determine  the  relation  between  the 
positions  of  the  incident  and  refracted  ray,  the  media  being  air  and 
water,  for  all  degrees  of  incidence,  varying  by  tens,  up  to  80°.  The 
medium  ratio  of  the  sine  of  incidence  to  that  of  refraction,  when  the 
ray  passes  from  air  into  water,  is  4  to  3*06936:  according  to  the 
experiments  of  Newton,  the  ratio  of  these  sines  is  4  to  2*99432. 
When  the  ray  passes  from  air  into  glass,  the  result  of  Ptolemy's 
experiments  is,  that  the  sines  of  incidence  and  refraction  are  as  3  to 
2*02158.  Newton  gives  for  the  ratio  of  these  sines  3  to  1*93048. 
The  correspondence  between  these  respective  ratios  is  greater  than 
might  reasonably  have  been  expected,  considering  that  the  instruments 
employed  by  Ptolemy  would  not  enable  him  to  measure  angles  to 
nearer  than  half  a  degree.  Newton  employed  rain  water :  Ptolemy 
has  simply  informed  us  that  the  water  employed  by  him  was  always  of 
the  same  density.  Newton,  again,  employed  common  glass :  Ptolemy 
calls  his  the  purest  glass :  what  that  was  we  cannot  say,  because  we 
know  nothing  of  the  glass  manufactory  among  the  Egyptians  in  the 
time  of  Ptolemy. 

In  the  explication  of  astronomical  refraction,  Ptolemy  proceeded  in 
several  respects  as  Cassini  did  in  the  last  century.  He,  also,  taught 
expressly,  that  the  more  a  star  is  elevated,  the  less  will  be  the  differ- 
ence between  the  true  and  the  apparent  place,  and  that  this  difference 
is  nothing  when  the  star  is  in  the  zenith,  because  the  vertical  ray  does 
not  undergo  any  flexure.  This  Ptolemy  demonstrates  by  means  of  a 
figure ;  from  which  it  appears,  that  in  all  cases  the  refraction  carries 
the  star  towards  the  zenith. 

Ptolemy  afterwards  describes  different  experiments  connected  with 
the  subject  of  refraction ;  but  his  deductions  from  them  are,  in  general, 
erroneous.  Altogether,  however,  this  fifth  book  of  his  '  Optics '  is 
highly  curious  and  interesting ;  and,  indeed,  the  whole  work  is  me- 
thodical and  instructive;  on  which  account,  we  have  entered  more 
fully  into  description  of  it  than  has  been  usual  among  the  historians  of 
optics. 

It  is  an  interesting  inquiry,  but  by  no  means  of  easy  determination, 
how  far  the  ancients  attempted  to  assist  sight  by  dioptrical  instru- 
ments. Roger  Bacon,  in  his  piece  *  On  the  Secret  Works  of  Nature 


OPTICS.  361 

and  Art,  and  on  the  Nullity  of  Magic,'  says,  "  transparent  bodies  may 

be  so  figured  that  things  at  the  greatest  distance  may  appear  to  be  the 

nearest,  and  the  contrary ;  so  that,  from  an  incredible  distance,  we 

may  read  the  smallest  letters,  and  number  things,  however  minute  : 

thus  it  is  thought  that  Julius  Caesar,  on  the  coast  of  Gaul,  discerned,  JuUns  c«sar. 

by  or  through  very  large  glasses,  the  disposition  and  situation  of  the 

camps  and  (coast)  cities  of  Britannia  Major."     We  here  render  per 

ingentia  specula,  by  or  through  very  large  glasses,  because  the  author 

is  speaking  of  perspicua,  transparent  things.     On  what  evidence  he 

grounds  his  assertion  we  know  not. 

The  ancients  are  well  known  to  have  used  dioptric  as  well  as  catop- 
tric burning-glasses ;  and  it  is  not  probable  that  they  would  employ 
the  former  thus,  and  yet  remain  ignorant  of  their  magnifying  power. 
The  contrary,  indeed,  is  plainly  affirmed  by  Seneca :  Liters  quamvis  Seneca, 
minutae  et  obscurae,  per  vitream  pilam  aqua  plenam,  majores  clario-     A-c-64- 
resque   cernuntur.     "  Letters,  though   minute   and   obscure,,  appear 
larger  and  clearer  through  a  glass  bubble  filled  with  water."1     Such  a 
phenomenon,  often  observed,  would  naturally  lead  inquisitive  men  a 
few  steps  farther.     But  they  could  make  no  important  advance  (says 
Dr.  Hook)  without  the  art  of  grinding  glass.     This  they  had  ;  so  at 
least  says  Pliny.     "  Some  glass  is  fashioned  by  blowing ;  some  is  Pliny, 
ground  upon  a  wheel,  or  in  a  turning  lathe;  and  some  is  engraved     A'0-  '9 
like  silver.     Sidon  was  celebrated  for  its  glass-works,  having  also  in- 
vented specula.     Such  was  the  ancient  art  of  glass."2     What  were 
here  meant  by  specula?     The  phrase  "siquidem  etiam  specula  exco- 
gitaverat"  points  evidently  to  some  notable  invention. 

That  glass  was  ground  by  the  ancients  is  also  fairly  deducible  from 
the  language  of  Seneca.  He  tells  us  that  prisms  were  in  use  among 
the  virtuosi  of  Rome,  in  the  days  of  Nero ;  and  how  could  a  glass 
prism  be  made  by  blowing?  "  A  rod,  or  bar  of  glass  (says  he)  is 
made  with  several  angles ;  and  if  the  rays  of  the  sun  pass  through  it, 
such  colours  are  made  as  we  see  in  the  rainbow."3  Seneca  also  speaks 
of  multiply  ing-glasses,  the  several  faces  of  which  must  have  been  cut 
upon  a  wheel. 

All  this,  however,  brings  us  not  to  any  such  invention  as  that  of 
telescopes.  Nor  are  we  aware  of  anything  in  antiquity  that  can  indu- 
bitably be  so  interpreted.  We  have  seen  adduced,  for  this  purpose,  a 
passage  from  Pisidas,  a  Christian  writer,  who  flourished  at  Constan- 
tinople  in  the  seventh  century : — Ta  /zeXXovra  WQ  8ia  c)io7rrpou  av  A- c-  67°* 
/3\£7r£tc  5  "  you  see  things  future  as  by  a  dioptrum"  They  who  con- 
tend for  the  early  invention  of  telescopes,  say  that  this  dioptrum  was 
a  prospective  glass.  But,  if  it  were  the  same  as  the  dioptrum  em- 
ployed by  Hipparchus,  and  afterwards  by  Ptolemy,  it  was  no  other 
than  a  straight  ruler  of  about  four  feet  long,  on  which  were  fixed 

1  Seneca,  Nat.  Quast.  lib.  i.  c.  7. 

2  Plin.  Nat.  Hist.  lib.  xxxvi.  c.  26. 

3  Seneca,  Nat.  Qusest.  lib.  i.  c.  7. 


362 


GREEK   SCIENCE. 


three  equidistant  "  sights,"  as  they  are  technically  called.     A  figure  of 
it  is  given  in  M.  Halma's  edition  of  the  '  Almagest.' 

From  what  has  been  stated,  then,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  ancients 
had  but  little  that  deserved  the  name  of  optical  science ;  that  what 
they  possessed  was  confined  almost  entirely  to  catoptrics,  and  was, 
even  in  reference  to  that  department,  extremely  imperfect ;  that  their 
instruments  were  chiefly  catoptrical,  some  of  which,  however,  they 
carried  to  very  high  perfection ;  and  that  we  have  no  proof  that  their 
dioptric  instruments  went  beyond  single  lenses,  prisms,  and  multiply- 
ing glasses.  In  reference  to  refraction,  the  few  researches  which  they 
had  instituted,  seem  to  have  been  ingenious  and  partially  successful. 


Thales. 
B.  c.  600. 


Theophras- 
tus. 

B.C.  321. 


Pliny. 

A.  C.  70. 


Solinus. 
A.C.  218. 


VI.  ELECTRICITY. 

In  attempting  to  give  a  short  abstract  of  the  history  of  that  branch 
of  Physics  now  universally  termed  Electricity,  it  will  be  perceived 
that  a  single  fact  observed  in  the  earliest  ages,  and  as  far  as  our  in- 
formation can  reach,  at  first  recorded  by  the  Greek  philosophers,  has 
by  the  subsequent  addition  of  analogous  phenomena,  created  and  given 
name  to  a  separate  and  important  science. 

Thales  of  Miletus,  who  flourished  about  600  years  before  the 
Christian  era,  is  reported  by  subsequent  writers  to  have  described  the 
power  developed  in  amber  by  friction,  by  which  it  was  enabled  to  at- 
tract bits  of  straw,  and  other  light  bodies ;  and  an  attempted  expla- 
nation of  this  phenomenon  is  given  as  one  of  his  philosophical  dogmas. 
In  the  treatise  of  Theophrastus  upon  stones,  we  have  the  earliest  de- 
scription extant  of  this  property,  "  eirel  Se  KCU  TO  rjktKTpov  XiOog,  Kal 
yap  opvKTOv  TO  Trtpl  AtyvffTiKijv  Kal  TOVTMV  av  r;  TOV  e\Keiv  ^vvafjug 
aKoXovddrj"  (Theoph.  '  de  Lapid.'  p.  134,  Hill's  edit.)  Speaking 
also  of  the  '  Lyncurium,'  he  says,  "  2Xm  yap  dffirep  TO  ijXeKTpov  61 
3e  tyaaiv  6v  povov  Kapfyr)  Kal  £uAov,  dXXa  Kal  ^a\Kor  Kal  crifirjpov,  iav 
TI  XtTrroc  <u(77rep  Kal  Aic/cX^e  f'Xtyev."  (p.  124.) 

It  does  not  appear  that  Pliny's  knowledge  upon  this  subject  ex- 
tended beyond  that  of  Theophrastus :  he  states  of  pieces  of  amber 
that  "  attritu  digitorum  accept^,  vi  caloris  attrahunt  in  se  paleas  et 
folia  arida,  ut  magnes  lapis  ferrum  "  (Plin.  lib.  xxxvii.  cap.  iii.) ;  and 
"  nee  folia  autem  aut  stramenta  in  se  rapere,  sed  seris  aut  ferri  laminas." 
Like  Theophrastus,  he  also  mentions  the  lapis  Lyncurius  as  possessed 
of  the  same  property.  In  the  same  chapter  he  adds,  "  In  Syria 
quoque  foeminas  verticillos  inde  facere  et  vocare  harpaga,  quia  folia,  et 
paleas,  vestium  fimbreas  ad  se  rapiat."  Similar  quotations  might 
easily  be  adduced  from  the  writings  of  Priscian  and  Solinus.  Salma- 
sius,  in  his  commentary  upon  the  latter  author,  asserts  that  karabe,  the 
word  by  which  amber  was  known  among  the  Arabs,  is  said  by  Avi- 
cenna  to  be  of  Persian  origin,  and  to  signify  the  power  of  attracting 
straws.  ('  Hyl.  lat.') 


ELECTRICITY.  363 

The  ancient  naturalists  were  well  aware  of  another  interesting  elec- 
trical phenomenon  in  the  shocks  of  the  torpedo.     Aristotle  says  that  Aristotle. 
"  this  tish  causes  or  produces  a  torpor  upon  those  fishes  it  is  about  to    B-c* 341' 
seize,  and  having  by  that  means  got  them  into  its  mouth,  feeds  upon 
them."     He  further  adds,  that  this  fish  "  hides  itself  in  the  sand  and 
mud,  and  catches  those  fish  that  swim  over  it  by  benumbing  them, 
and  of  this  some  have  been  eye-witnesses :  the  same  fish  has  also  the 
power  of  benumbing  men."     Pliny  says  that  "  this  fish,  if  touched  by 
a  rod  or  spear,  even  at  a  distance,  paralyses  the  strongest  muscles, 
and  binds  and  arrests  the  feet  however  swift."    ('  Nat.  Hist.'  xxxii. 
ch.  i.)     Galen  the  physician  has  given  a  similar  description  ('  De 
Locis  Affect.')     Oppian  describes  the  organs  by  which  the  animal  Oppian. 
produces  this  effect  (lib.  ii.  ver.  62) ;  and  Claudian  has  a  short  poem  ciaudiam** 
upon  the  subject.     The  medical  writers  speak  of  applying  the  shocks     A- c- 395- 
of  the  torpedo  for  the  cure  of  diseases.     Scribonius  Largus,  (cap.  xli.)  Scribonius 
relates,  that  Anthero,  a  freedman  of  Tiberius,  was  by  this  means  La2J "!  5o. 
cured  of  the  gout.    Dioscorides  advises  the  same  remedy  for  inveterate 
pains  of  the  head   (lib.  ii.  art.  Torpedo).     Further  notices  of  this 
application  may  be  found  in  Galen,  *  Simp.  Medic.'  lib.  xi.    Paulus  Galen,  &c. 
JSgineta,  lib.  vii.     Such  is  a  summary  of  the   knowledge  of  the    A-c*144* 
ancients  upon  electricity ;  but  the  curious  reader  will  also  find  much 
interesting  matter  on  this  subject  in  a  dissertation  by  Dr.  Falconer, 
contained  in  the  third  volume  of  the  *  Memoirs  of  the  Manchester 
Society,'  wherein  it  is  rendered  exceedingly  probable  that  the  use 
of  conductors  for  attracting  lightning  from  the  clouds,  was  not  un- 
known even  in  these  early  times. 

The  scanty  fragments  of  information  which  the  literature  of  the 
middle  ages  affords  on  this  and  every  other  scientific  subject  may  be 
passed  over  in  silence ;  and  it  may  fairly  be  asserted,  that  from  the 
time  of  Pliny  until  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  no  advance  what- 
ever took  place  in  the  branch  of  natural  philosophy  now  before  us. 
There  is,  however,  mention  made  of  more  than  one  electrical  pheno- 
menon in  the  scholia  upon  Homer,  by  Eustathius,  bishop  of  Thessalo-  Eustathius. 
nica,  about  A.  c.  1160;  one  of  these  passages,  relating  to^Walimer,  A'°' 
the  king  of  the  Goths,  who  commenced  his  reign,  according  to  Du 
Fresnoy,  A.  c.  415,  is  too  singular  to  be  passed  by  unnoticed. 
"  BaXijjiep  6  Qev^epi-^ov  Trcm/p,  6  /carcticpanfo'ae  'IraXtaf  (jxifflv 
cnrdffrjQ,  rov  oiKtic,  awparog  ffTrtvdrjpae  aTreVaXXe.  Kal  rig  Se  aofycQ 
TraXcuo'e  <j>r](ri  Trepl  eavTOv,  on  ivdvofjievov  TTOTE  Kal  eK^vopevov  ai/rov, 
ffTTivdfipciQ  a7T£7n]C(i)v  e^aiffioi,  'icmv  ore  Kal  KTVTTOVVTEQ.  kv'iole  $£  Kal 
0Xoy££  6'Xcu  rareXajuTrov,  ^ijtri,  TO  iuaTiov  JJ.TJ  jccuovacu."  (Eustath. 
4  in  II.'  E.  p.  515,  lin.  4,  ed.  Rom.) 

"  Walimer,  the  father  of  Theodoric,  (uncle,  Trarpug  ?)  who  con- 
quered, as  they  say,  the  whole  of  Italy,  used  to  emit  sparks  from  his 
own  body;  and  a  certain  ancient  philosopher  says  of  himself,  that 
once  when  he  was  dressing  and  undressing  himself,  sudden  sparks 


364  GREEK  SCIENCE. 

were  emitted,  occasionally  crackling,   and  sometimes,  he  says,  entire 
flames  blazed  from  him,  not  burning  his  garment." 

Although  it  is  clear  that  philosophical  speculations  upon  the  natural 
properties  of  matter  were  by  no  means  valued  or  pursued  in  what 
we  should  now  call  a  truly  scientific  manner;  yet  the  following 
singular  passage  from  St.  Jerome  may  afford  a  sufficient  proof  that 
the  facts  which  had  been  before  recorded,  were  neither  lost  nor 
forgotten.  "  Arguit  in  hoc  loco  Porphyrius  et  Julianus  Augustus,  vel 
imperitiam  historic!  mentientis,  vel  stultitiam  eorum  qui  statim  secuti 
sint  Salvatorem,  quasi  irrationabiliter  quemlibet  vocentem  hominem 
sint  secuti :  cum  tantse  virtutes,  tantaque  signa  pracesserint,  qua? 
Apostolos  antequam  crederent,  vidisse  non  dubium  est.  Certe  fulgor 
ipse,  et  majestas  divinitatis  occultae  qua3  etiam  in  human&  facie  reluce- 
bat,  ex  primo  ad  se  videntes  trahere  poterat  aspectu.  Si  enim  in 
magnete  lapide  et  succinis  haec  esse  vis  dicitur,  ut  anulos  et  stipulam 
et  festucas  sibi  copulent ;  quanto  magis  Dominus  omnium  creaturarum 
ad  se  trahere  poterat  quos  vocabat."  Sti.  Hieronymi,  Presb.  lib.  i. 
1  Com.  in  Matt.'  cap.  ix. 


INDEX. 


,  birth,  4 

a  slave,  4 

anecdotes,  5 

liberation,  6 

travels,  8 

settles  at  Babylon,  9 

precepts,  9 

last  journey  to  Greece,  10 

death,  12 

Alexander's  early  masters,  120 

obligations  to  Aristotle,  121 

education,  122 

.  fellow  pupils,  125 

.          coolness  to  Aristotle,  134 

Alexandrian  school,  destruction  of,  345 

Amelius,  291 

Ammianus  Marcellinus,  296 

Ammonius  Saccas,  288 

Anaxagoras,  birth,  21 

,  doctrines,  23,  308,  332 

Anaximander,  birth,  19 

,  doctrines,  20,  307,  332 

Anaximenes,  20,  332 

Ancient  commentators  on  Aristotle,  155 

Ancient  Theists  and  Atheists,  21 

Antisthenes,  250 

Apellicon  the  Teian,  168 

Apollodorus'  Summary  of  Aristotle's  Life,  101 

Apollonius,  324 

Arcesilas,  218 

Archelaus,  24 

,  philosophy,  25 

Archimedes,  315 

,  science  and  inventions,  314-321,  337, 

346,  347 

,  birth,  315 

,  death,  322 

Archytas,  308 
Aristarchus,  314,  335 
Aristillus,  314 
Arithmetic,  311 
Aristotle,  346,  351,  353,  363 

,  early  histories  of,  96 

,  birthplace,  101 

,  early  education,  102 


Aristotle  comes  to  Athens,  103 

,  works,  105 

,  reputed  ingratitude  to  Plato,  108 

gives  lectures,  113 

at  the  court  of  Hermias,  114 

flies  to  Mytilene,  116 

marries  Pythias,  117 

is  calumniated,  117 


goes  to  Macedon  to  educate  Alexander, 

123 

,  influence  over  Alexander,  123 

,  misrepresented,  124 

returns  to  Athens,  126 

,  division  of  his  scholars,  127 

,      their  social  meetings,  127 

,      their  public  exercises,  128 

,  prosperity,  131 

returns  to  Chalcis,  132 

accused  of  impiety,  133 

,  defence,  133 

advice  to  Callisthenes,  134 

,  death,  145 

,  will,  147 

,  descendants  of,  148 

,  fate  of  his  works,  150 

,  writings  known  to  the  early  Peripatetics, 

157 

,  style  of  his  exoteric  works,  163 

,  popularity  of  his  exoteric  works,  1 65 

,  difficulty  of  his  scientific  works,  165 

,  imputed  variance  in  his  views,  166 

,  literary  notice  of  his  existing  writings, 

172 

,  Categories,  172 

,  on  Interpretation,  172 

,  Former  Analytics,  172 

,  Topics,  172 

,  on  Sophistical  Proofs,  173 

,  Physical  Lectures,  173 

-,  on  the  Heavens,  173 


,  on  Generation  and  Decay,  174 

,  Meteorology,  174 

,  to  Alexander,  on  the  World,  174 

,  on  the   Soul,  174 

,  tracts  on  physical  subjects,  174 


366 


INDEX. 


Aristotle,  on  Breath,  17 

,  Accounts  of  Animals,  175 

. ,  on  the  Parts  of  Animals,  175 
,  on  the  Movement  of  Animals,  175 

,  on  the  Locomotion  of  Animals,  176 

,  on  the  Engendering  of  Animals,  176 

,  on  Colours,  176 

,  from  the  Book  on  Sounds,  176 

,  Physiognomica,  176 

,  on  Plants,  176 

,  on  Wonderful  Stories,  176 

,  Mechanics,  176 

,  Problems,  177 

,  on  Indivisible  Lines,  178 

,  the  Quarters  and  Names  of  the  Winds, 

178 

,  on  Xenophanes,  Zeno,  and  Gorgias,  178 

,  the  Metaphysics,  178 

,  Nicomachean  Ethics,  179 

,  the  Great  Ethics,  180 

,  the  Eudemian  Ethics,  180 

,  on  Virtues  and  Vices,  180 

,  Politics,  180 

,  Economics,  180 

,  the  Art  of  Rhetoric,  180 

,  the  Rhetoric  to  Alexander,  181 

,  on  the  Poetic  Art,  182 

Astronomy,  307,  329 

Athenseus's  account  of  Aristotle's  works,  153 
Athenian  social  intercourse,  128 
Autolycus,  310,  334 

BUFFON,  357 

CALIPPUS,  333 

Callisthenes,  134 

Carneades,  219 

Cephisodorus'  book  against  Aristotle,  113 

Chrysippus,  260 

Cicero.     Imitations  of  Aristotle,  162 

,  birth  and  education,  207 

,  Consulate,  209 

,  Triumvirate,  211 

,  exile  and  return,  211 

,  Governor  of  Cilicia,  212 

,  Philosophical  Writings,  216-227 

,  Rhetorical  Works,  227-230 

,  Moral  and  Physical  Writings,  230-234 

,  Epistles,  235 

,y  Poetical  and  Historical  Works,  235 

,  Orations,  235 

,  MSS.,  editions,  &c.,  242 

Claudian,  363 
Cleanthes,  259 
Comparison  between  the  Plotinian  School  and 

the  Quielists,  301 
Crates,  252 
Ctesibius,  323,  348,  351 


Cynical  Doctrines,  review  of,  252 
Cynicism  the  parent  of  Stoicism,  249 

DAMASCIUS,  225 
Democritus,  21,  308 
Destruction  of  ancient  literature,  154 
Dialectics,  32 

Difference  between  the  Greek  and  Latin  lan- 
guages, 238 
Diogenes,  251 
Diogenes  Apolloniates,  24 
Dion  Prusaeus,  265 
Dogmatism,  effects  of,  269 
Du  Fay,  357 

ECLECTICISM,  rise  of,  287 
Eclectic  Philosophy  calculated  to  impede  Chris- 
tianity, 302 

English  translations  of  Plato,  90 
Epictetus,  265 
Epicurus,  birth,  185 

visits  Athens,  185 

opens  school,  185 

,  manner  of  life,  186 

,  success  as  a  teacher,  186 

,  death,  187 

,  will,  187 

emancipates  his  slaves,  188 

,  doctrines,  188 

,  views  of  physical  science,  189 

— — ,  views  of  moral  philosophy,  190 

,  divisions  of  his  philosophy,  191 

,  Physics — the  universe,  192 

,      atoms,  193 

,      images,  196 

,      psychology,  197 

,      astronomy,  197 

,  Moral  Philosophy — the  gods,  128 

,      death  and  pain,  200 

,      the  chief  good,  201 

,      justice,  203 

,  successors  of,  204 

Eratosthenes,  323,  336 
Eubulus,  115 
Euclid,  313,  335,  353 
Eudoxus,  308,  333 
Eustathius,  363 

FABLE,  use  of,  3 
Frontinus,  350 

GALEN,  363 

Gellius's  account  of  Aristotle,  130 

Gorgias,  29 

Greek  Geometry,  307 

Mechanics,  312 

Music,  312 

Optics,  312 


ItfDEX. 


367 


HERACLITUS,  57 

Herennius,  289 

Hermias,  114,  116 

Hermolaus,  a  friend  of  Callisthenes,  138 

Hero,  348,  351 

Herpyllis,  149 

Hiero's  crown,  319 

Hierocles,  294 

Hipparchus,  339 

Hippias,  30 

Hippocrates,  308 

Hostility  between  Aristotle  and  Isocrates,  112 

Hypatia,  296 

Hydrostatics,  347 

IMMORTALITY  of  the  soul,  56 

Introduction  of  the  Greek  Philosophy  to  Rome, 

216 

Isocrates'  hostility  to  Aristotle,  112 
Isodorus,  295 

JAMBLICDS,  293 

LEONID  AS,  120 

Leucippus,  21 

Literature  fashionable  in  Rome,  98 

Longinus,  289 

Lysimachus,  121 

MACROBIUS,  296 

Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus,  265 

Marinus,  295 

Mechanics,  312,  345 

Menechmus,  308 

Modern  Platonists,  89 

Monimus  252 

Music,  311 

NAPIER,  356 
Neo-platonic  School,  294 
New  Academy  (the),  218 
Numa,  355 

ONESICRITUS,  252 

Oppian,  363 

Optics,  312 

Orators  before  Cicero,  240 

Origen,  289 

PAMPHILA,  99 
Pansetius,  261 
Peripatetics,  126 
Peyrard,  357 
Phavorinus,  99 

Philip's  acquaintance  with  Aristotle,  119 
Philo  and  Antiochus,  223 
Philosophy  of  the  ancients,  more  speculative 
than  practical,  215 


Philosophy  of  the  early  poets,  15 

of  Italy,  57 

Philolaus,  333 
Pisidas,  361 

Plato,  fables  concerning,  53 

,  birth,  53 

,  a  disciple  of  Socrates,  54 

,  early  writings,  54 

retires  to  Megara,  55 

composes  the  Phaedo,  &c.,  55 

— —  visits  Italy,  57 

visits  Egypt,  59 

opens  a  school  at  Athens,  61 

,  Dialogues,  61 

ridicules  the  Sophists,  61 

visits  Dionysius,  63 

,  doctrine  of  virtue,  63 

,  idea  of  a  commonwealth,  64 

,  Cosmogony,  65 

,  on  Time  and  Eternity,  66 

,  creation  of  living  beings,  67 

,  properties  of  matter,  67 

,  system  of  Laws,  67 

,  death,  68 

,  spurious  writings,  68 

,  Philosophy,  71 

,  Politics,  76 

,  Natural  Theology,  79 

,  Physical  System,  79 

,  reprobates  superstition,  81 

,  opinions  on  Logic  and  Rhetoric,  82 

,  successors,  89 

,  admirers  in  Britain,  90 

,  English  translations  of,  90 

sentiments  towards  Aristotle,  107 

,  as  a  mathematician,  309 

Pliny,  361,  362 

Plotinian  school,  291 

doctrines,  297,  301 

Plotinus,  289 

,  intended   Platonopolis   or  philosophical 

colony,  291 

works,  297 

Plutarch,  355 

,  account  of  Aristotle's  works,  151 

Pneumatics,  350 
Porch,  the,  255 
Porphyry,  291 
Posidonius,  261 
Potamo,  288 
Prasitelis,  358 
Proclus,  295,  355 
Prodicus,  29 
Protagoras,  29 
Ptolemy,  340,  357 

Euergetes,  357 

Pyrrho,  birth  of,  271 
,  disciples  of,  273 


368 


INDEX. 


Pyrrhonism,  causes  of,  270 
Pythagoras,  58,  307,  332 
Pythias,  wife  of  Aristotle,  117 

QUIETISTS,  the,  301 
ROMAN  eloquence,  240 

SCEPTICAL  Philosophy,  270 

,  history  of,  270 

,  account  of,  275-283 

School  of  Alexandria,  313 
Scribon  Largus,  363 
Seneca,  birth,  261 
,  education,  261 

,  banishment,  262 

,  tutor  of  Nero,  263 

,  death,  203 

,  -works,  264 

Sextus  Chaeronensis,  273 
Sextus  Empiricus,  273 

,  works  of,  274,  283 

Socrates,  birth,  34 

,  a  student,  34 

,  a  soldier,  35 

',  marriage  with  Xanthippe,  36 

,  poverty,  37 

,  method  of  teaching,  37 

,  the  '  Irony '  of,  38 

,  the  '  Demon '  of,  39 

,  religion,  41 

,  moral  character,  42 

,  calumnies  regarding,  43 

,  doctrines,  44 

,  precepts,  44 


Socrates,  politics,  45 

,  accusation,  48 

,  trial  and  condemnation,  48 

,  death,  49 

,  sects  founded  by  his  followers,  50 
Solinus,  362 
Sophists,  the,  26 

,  effects  of  their  teaching,  32 

,  ridiculed  by  Plato,  61 

Stagirus  built,  124 

Stoical  philosophy,  249 

Stoicism  introduced  into  Rome,  261 

Strabo's  account  of  Aristotle's  works,  150 

Superstition  in  Greece,  26 

THALES,  birth,  17 

,  doctrines,  18,  307,  330,  362 

Themistus,  296 
Theophrastus,  362 
Timocharis,  314 
Timon  the  Phliasian,  273 
Tzetzes,  356 

UNCONGENIALITY  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  110 
WISE  Men  of  Greece,  16 

XANTHUS,  master  of  ^Esop,  4 
Xanthippe,  wife  of  Socrates,  36 

ZENO,  254 

,  his  doctrines,  255—259 

Zenodorus,  309 
Zenodotus,  295 
Zonaras,  356 


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