Transcriber’s Note: As a result of editorial shortcomings in the original,
some reference letters in the text don’t have matching entries in the
reference-lists, and vice versa.
THE HISTORIANS’ HISTORY OF THE WORLD
[Illustration: GROTE]
THE HISTORIANS’
HISTORY
OF THE WORLD
A comprehensive narrative of the rise and development of nations
as recorded by over two thousand of the great writers of all ages:
edited, with the assistance of a distinguished board of advisers
and contributors, by
HENRY SMITH WILLIAMS, LL.D.
[Illustration]
IN TWENTY-FIVE VOLUMES
VOLUME IV--GREECE TO THE ROMAN CONQUEST
The Outlook Company
New York
The History Association
London
1904
COPYRIGHT, 1904,
BY HENRY SMITH WILLIAMS.
_All rights reserved._
Press of J. J. Little & Co.
New York, U. S. A.
Contributors, and Editorial Revisers.
Prof. Adolf Erman, University of Berlin.
Prof. Joseph Halévy, College of France.
Prof. Thomas K. Cheyne, Oxford University.
Prof. Andrew C. McLaughlin, University of Michigan.
Prof. David H. Müller, University of Vienna.
Prof. Alfred Rambaud, University of Paris.
Prof. Eduard Meyer, University of Berlin.
Dr. James T. Shotwell, Columbia University.
Prof. Theodor Nöldeke, University of Strasburg.
Prof. Albert B. Hart, Harvard University.
Dr. Paul Brönnle, Royal Asiatic Society.
Dr. James Gairdner, C.B., London.
Prof. Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Möllendorff, University of Berlin.
Prof. H. Marnali, University of Budapest.
Dr. G. W. Botsford, Columbia University.
Prof. Julius Wellhausen, University of Göttingen.
Prof. Franz R. von Krones, University of Graz.
Prof. Wilhelm Soltau, Zabern University.
Prof. R. W. Rogers, Drew Theological Seminary.
Prof. A. Vambéry, University of Budapest.
Prof. Otto Hirschfeld, University of Berlin.
Baron Bernardo di San Severino Quaranta, London.
Prof. F. York Powell, Oxford University.
Dr. John P. Peters, New York.
Dr. S. Rappoport, School of Oriental Languages, Paris.
Prof. Hermann Diels, University of Berlin.
Prof. C. W. C. Oman, Oxford University.
Prof. I. Goldziher, University of Vienna.
Prof. E. C. Fleming, University of West Virginia.
Prof. R. Koser, University of Berlin.
CONTENTS
VOLUME IV
GREECE
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. THE EVOLUTION OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY. By Dr.
Hermann Diels xiii
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE REIGN OF TERROR IN ATHENS (404-403 B.C.) 1
Lysander, 2. Cruelties of the Thirty, 3. The Sycophants, 4. The
revolt of Thrasybulus, 10.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE DEMOCRACY RESTORED (403-400 B.C.) 16
The end of Alcibiades, 23. Life at Athens, 25. Aristophanes, 27.
Euripides, 30.
CHAPTER XXXIX
SOCRATES AND THE SOPHISTS (_ca._ 425-399 B.C.) 33
The prosecution of Socrates, 36. Plato’s account of the last
hours of Socrates, 39. Grote’s estimate of Socrates, 45.
CHAPTER XL
THE RETREAT OF THE TEN THOUSAND (404-399 B.C.) 49
The affairs of Persia, 49. Xenophon’s account of Cunaxa, 53. The
retreat, 59. Xenophon’s picture of the hardships, 61. End of the
march, 63. The meaning of Xenophon’s feat, 64.
CHAPTER XLI
THE SPARTAN SUPREMACY (480-240 B.C.) 66
Grote’s comparison of Spartan and Athenian rule, 72. Harshness of
the Spartan hegemony, 76. Degeneracy of Sparta, 77.
CHAPTER XLII
SPARTA IN ASIA (400-394 B.C.) 82
War of Lacedæmon and Elis, 86. Cinadon’s plot, 90. Agesilaus in
Asia, 91. Persian gold, 95. War rises in Greece, 96. Lysander’s
plot, 99. Agesilaus recalled, 101.
CHAPTER XLIII
THE CORINTHIAN WAR (394-387 B.C.) 104
Battle of Cnidus, 107. Battle of Coronea, 108. Land affairs of
the Corinthian War, 111. The great deeds of Conon, 115. Conon
rebuilds the Long Walls, 117. The embassy of Antalcidas, 119. The
King’s Peace, 123.
CHAPTER XLIV
THE RISE OF THEBES (387-371 B.C.) 126
Mantinea crushed, 127. The Olynthian War, 129. The surprise of
Thebes, 130. Fate of Evagoras and the Asiatic Greeks, 133. The
revolt of Thebes, 135. The second Athenian League, 140. Corcyra,
144. The trial of Timotheus, 148. The congress at Sparta, 151.
Athens abandons Thebes, 153.
CHAPTER XLV
THE DAY OF EPAMINONDAS (371-367 B.C.) 154
Sparta invades Bœotia, 156. Battle of Leuctra, 157. Significance
of Leuctra, 159. Jason of Thessaly, 160. Von Stern on the Theban
policy, 165. A congress at Athens, 167. Mantinea restored, 167.
The Arcadian Revolution, 169. Spartan intolerance of cowardice,
171. The Thebans in the Peloponnesus, 172. Founding of Messene,
175. Athens in league with Sparta, 177. Second invasion of
Peloponnesus, 177. Expedition into Thessaly, 180. An embassy to
Persia and a congress at Thebes, 182.
CHAPTER XLVI
WHEN THEBES WAS SUPREME (368-360 B.C.) 185
Joint work of Epaminondas and Pelopidas, 185. The end of
Pelopidas, 189. Battle of Mantinea and death of Epaminondas,
191. Xenophon’s account of how Epaminondas fought, 194. Grote’s
estimate of Epaminondas, 196. Confusion following Epaminondas’
fall, 199.
CHAPTER XLVII
THE TYRANTS IN SICILY (410-337 B.C.) 202
CHAPTER XLVIII
THE RISE OF MACEDONIA (490-357 B.C.) 208
Early history of Macedonia, 210. Philip, the organiser, 215.
Military discipline, 216. Macedonian culture, 217. Olympias,
mother of Alexander, 219. The Macedonian phalanx, 220. The waxing
of Philip, 221.
CHAPTER XLIX
THE TRIUMPHS OF PHILIP (359-336 B.C.) 222
Demosthenes, the orator, 222. Æschines, the rival of Demosthenes,
223. The unpopularity of Demosthenes, 224. Philip’s better side,
225. The Sacred War, 227. The First Philippic, 227. Philip and
Athens, 229. A treaty of peace, 231. Punishment of the Phocians,
232. The attitude of the Athenians, 232. The Macedonian party,
233. The patriotic party, 234. Philip’s intrigues and the
outbreak of war, 235. The Third Philippic, 236. Philip returns
to the fray, 237. Siege of Perinthus and Byzantium, 238. Decline
of Philip’s prestige; the Scythian expedition, 238. The crusade
against Amphissa, 239. Alliance between Athens and Thebes, 241.
The armies in the plain of Chæronea, 243. Battle of Chæronea,
245. Philip takes Thebes, 247. Peace of Demades, 248. Philip in
Peloponnesus, 249. Political schemes; family broils, 250. The
death of Philip, 251. A summing-up of Philip’s character, 253.
Grote’s estimate of Philip, 254.
CHAPTER L
ALEXANDER THE GREAT (336-335 B.C.) 256
Philip and Alexander compared by Justin, 257. Alexander’s youth
according to Quintus Curtius, 258. Aristotle as his teacher,
261. Bucephalus, 263. Alexander’s first deeds, 263. Demosthenes
ridicules Alexander, 265. Alexander dashes through Greece, 267.
Alexander winnows the North, 268. The revolt of Thebes, 269. The
fate of Thebes, 271.
CHAPTER LI
ALEXANDER INVADES ASIA (334 B.C.) 274
Schemes of conquest, 274. The problem and the troops, 276. The
size of the army, 277. The phalanx and the cavalry, 278. The
light troops, 280. The condition of the Persian Empire, 281.
The entry into Asia, according to Arrian, 283. Battle of the
Granicus, 284. Courage and danger of Alexander, 287. Effects of
Alexander’s victory, 289.
CHAPTER LII
ISSUS AND TYRE (334-332 B.C.) 290
Halicarnassus, 292. Gordium, 295. Darius musters a new host, 297.
Darius at Issus, 299. Preparing for battle, 301. Battle of Issus,
302. Flight of Darius, 303. From Issus to Tyre, 305. The siege of
Tyre, 307.
CHAPTER LIII
FROM GAZA TO ARBELA (332-331 B.C.) 312
The siege of Gaza according to Arrian, 312. Incidents from
Quintus Curtius, 314. Alexander in Egypt, 315. The visit to
Ammon, 317. Alexander leaves Egypt, 318. Battle of Arbela, 320.
CHAPTER LIV
THE FALL OF PERSIA (331-327 B.C.) 329
The entry into Babylon described by Quintus Curtius, 329. At
the border of Persia, 331. A shepherd guide, 332. The released
captives; sacking Persepolis, 334. Curtius tells of the
enormous loot, 335. Curtius describes an orgy and the burning
of Persepolis, 336. The new meaning of the conquest, 338. The
pursuit of Darius, 338. Conspiracies against Alexander, 342.
Capture of Bessus, 346. Limit of Alexander’s progress northward,
348. Alexander murders his friend, 348. Remorse of Alexander,
350. Conspiracy of the royal pages, 353.
CHAPTER LV
THE CONQUEST OF INDIA (327-324 B.C.) 355
The war with Porus, 358. The eastern limit, 360. The march to
the West, 362. The brave Mallians, 363. Alexander’s severe wound
and the army’s grief, 365. The desert march, 367. Excesses and
cruelties described by Curtius, 369. The return of Nearchus, 371.
CHAPTER LVI
THE END OF ALEXANDER (324-323 B.C.) 375
His projects, 375. The marriage of Greece with Persia, 377. The
mutiny, 379. The last expedition, 383. Grief for Hephæstion, 384.
To Babylon, 386. Last illness, 390. The death-bed of Alexander,
391.
CHAPTER LVII
VARIOUS ESTIMATES OF ALEXANDER 393
His vices and virtues (Arrian), 393. His favour with fortune
(Ælianus), 394. If Alexander had attempted Rome (Livy), 395. A
patriotic estimate of Rome’s greatness, 398. His invincibility
(Grote), 399. His meanness (Ménard and Rollin), 401. His evil
influence (Niebuhr), 403. His motives (Droysen), 405. His effect
on federalisation (Pöhlmann), 407. His heritage (Hegel), 408.
Alexander’s true glory (Wheeler), 409.
CHAPTER LVIII
GREECE DURING THE LIFE OF ALEXANDER (333-323 B.C.) 410
Confederacy against Macedonia, 411. War in Greece, 412. Affairs
at Athens, 413. Demosthenes and Æschines, 414. Deification of
Alexander; the gold of Harpalus, 416.
CHAPTER LIX
THE SUCCESSORS OF ALEXANDER (323-232 B.C.) 420
Council at Babylon after Alexander’s death, 422. Perdiccas,
Meleager, Eumenes, and the puppet king, 425. The compact,
426. The partition, 427. Alexander’s posthumous plans, 428.
Alexander’s funeral described by Diodorus, 430. Alexander’s
heirs, 431. Arrhidæus, the imbecile, 431. The Diadochi, 432.
The women claimants, 433. Death of Perdiccas, 435. The feats
of Eumenes, 436. The empire of Antigonus, 437. Polysperchon
_versus_ Cassander, 438. Lysimachus, 441. Cassander in power,
442. The name of “king” assumed, 446. The siege of Rhodes, 447.
The fall of Antigonus, 449. Demetrius at large, 450. Death of
Cassander; Demetrius wins and loses, 452. Lysimachus, Arsinoe,
and Agathocles, 454. Seleucus; Antigonus; the Ptolemies, 455.
Ptolemy Ceraunus in Macedonia, 457. Anarchy in Macedonia, 458.
Antigonus Gonatas, 459. The Chremonidean War, 460. Pyrrhus’ son
takes Macedonia, 461.
CHAPTER LX
AFFAIRS IN GREECE PROPER AFTER ALEXANDER’S DEATH (323-318 B.C.) 463
The Lamian War, 463. Return of Demosthenes; death of
Leosthenes, 466. Leonnatus, 467. Death of Leonnatus; naval
war; war in Thessaly, 468. Dissolution of the league, 469. The
capitulation, 470. The end of Demosthenes, 470. Grote’s estimate
of Demosthenes, 472. Antipater in Greece, 474. The deaths of
Antipater and of Demades, 476. Polysperchon and Cassander, 477.
Olympias and Eumenes, 478. Imperial edict recalling exiles, 479.
Contest at Athens, 480. Intrigues of Phocion, 481. Phocion’s
disgrace, 482.
CHAPTER LXI
THE FAILURE OF GRECIAN FREEDOM (318-279 B.C.) 486
Hellas at peace, 487. Athens under Demetrius; Sparta behind
walls, 488. The last acts of Olympias’ power, 490. Ptolemy
in Greece, 493. Athens passive and servile, 494. Success of
Demetrius in Greece, 497. Battle of Ipsus, 498.
CHAPTER LXII
THE EXPLOITS OF PYRRHUS (_ca._ 360-272 B.C.) 502
The antecedents of Pyrrhus, 503. The last adventures of
Demetrius, 504. The end of Lysimachus, king of Macedon, 505.
Death of Seleucus, 506. Invasion of the Gauls, 506. Defence of
the temple at Delphi, 507. Pyrrhus and the Romans, 508. Pyrrhus
summoned by the Tarentines, 508. Pyrrhus in Sicily; his return to
Italy, 510. Magna Græcia subdued by the Romans, 511. Return of
Pyrrhus to Macedonia, 512. Expedition of Pyrrhus against Sparta,
512. Death of Pyrrhus, 513. Antigonus Gonatas, 514.
CHAPTER LXIII
THE LEAGUES AND THEIR WARS (249-167 B.C.) 516
The Ætolians, 516. The Ætolian League, 517. The Achæan League and
Aratus of Sicyon, 518. Aratus controls the league, 520. Aratus
takes Corinth, 521. Sparta under Cleomenes, 523. Antigonus called
in, 524. The Social War, 526. Alliance with Rome, 528. Greek
freedom proclaimed, 531. The Ætolians crushed, 531. Greece at the
mercy of “friendly” Rome, 533. Rome against Philip, 535. Perseus,
king of Macedonia, 537. The humiliation of Greece, 538.
CHAPTER LXIV
THE FINAL DISASTERS (156 B.C.-540 A.D.) 540
The Macedonian insurrection, 542. The Achæan War, 542. The
destruction of Corinth, 545. Greece under the Romans, 546.
CHAPTER LXV
THE KINGDOM OF THE SELEUCIDÆ (323-65 B.C.) 552
Seleucus, 553. Antiochus Soter, 555. Seleucus Philopator, 559.
CHAPTER LXVI
THE KINGDOM OF THE PTOLEMIES (323-30 B.C.) 562
Ptolemy Philadelphus, 568. Ptolemy Euergetes, 570. Ptolemy
Philopator, 572. Epiphanes, 573. Philometor and Physcon, 573.
Roman Interference, 575. Ptolemy Auletes; Cleopatra and the end,
576.
CHAPTER LXVII
SICILIAN AFFAIRS (317-216 B.C.) 578
Agathocles, 578. Pyrrhus and the Romans, 583.
CONCLUDING SUMMARY
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE HELLENIC SPIRIT. By Dr. Ulrich von
Wilamowitz-Möllendorff 587
BRIEF REFERENCE-LIST OF AUTHORITIES BY CHAPTERS 614
A GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY OF GRECIAN HISTORY 617
[Illustration]
THE EVOLUTION OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY
WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THE PRESENT WORK
BY DR. HERMANN DIELS
Professor in the University of Berlin.
It is a primary law of development that each generation should supplant
and supersede that which preceded it. The parents bring forth the child,
and when the child has advanced to full maturity they themselves lapse
into oblivion; and the same fate overtakes their children and children’s
children.
So it is with nations. One civilisation rises above the level of
the rest, then sinks, yielding place to the fresh vigour of younger
nations, to which it bequeaths its heritage of culture. For a while the
elder mother-nation is held in remembrance as a teacher and model; but
ultimately--when the new generation of nations has grown strong enough to
maintain an independent existence--the elder vanishes to return no more.
Such a stage we ourselves seem to have reached. The peoples of the
Classic Age have long passed away, but in the Renaissance the culture of
their time rose again from the dead. A bevy of daughters entered upon
the heritage of this mother--Italy, France, England, Germany, and many
others--and added to it, each after her own fashion. Then they outgrew
the imitation and mere echo of the antique, passing on to express in act
an independent culture of their own; and now the time seems to have come
when the modern spirit claims absolute liberty of action in every sphere,
without the slightest reference to the traditions of antiquity. For the
modern technician, the modern naturalist, the modern historian, the
modern artist, the modern poet, the ancient world has no message. It is
dead--dead past recovery, as we may say.
There is, however, one sphere in which it is not dead, where it still
imparts fresh stimulus to the minds of men from day to day, in which it
is still recognised as the guide to every fresh enterprise. This sphere
is philosophy.
The last and loftiest height to which thinking humanity can climb
is that comprehensive vision of all things which we Germans call
_Weltanschauung_, and which the Greeks called _Philosophia_. In
speculation of this illimitable range we have made but little advance
upon the Greeks; nay, even those most modern of philosophers who, on
the basis of biological knowledge, have built up the most modern of
all conceptions of the world, are in unconscious agreement with the
rudiments of Greek natural science in the sixth century B.C. Let anyone
compare the “cosmological perspective” to which Ernest Haeckel has
attained in his book _Die Welträthsel_ [_The Riddle of the Universe_]
(1900) p. 15, “from the highest point of monistic science yet reached,”
with what Anaximandros taught in the reign of Cyrus, and he will perceive
with amazement that modern times have hardly gone further by a single
step. The eternity, infinity, and illimitability of the Cosmos; the
substance thereof, with its attributes of matter and energy, which in
perpetual motion occupy the boundless space; perpetual motion itself
in its periodic changes of becoming and ceasing to be; the constant
progress of decay and destruction in the innumerable celestial bodies
which give place to fresh formations of a similar character; the process
of biogenesis on our own planet, by which in the course of æons animal
life was brought forth, and by which, through gradual metamorphoses,
the vertebrates were evolved from its earliest forms, the mammalia
from vertebrates, the primary apes from mammalia, and lastly, through
progressive evolution, man was brought into being towards the end of the
tertiary period--all these propositions had already been recognised and
stated in germ by the Greek thinker who lived during the first generation
of Greek philosophy. The sum total of the progress made in twenty-five
hundred years, that what was then surmised from, rather than disclosed
by, an empiric consideration of some few facts, has now been demonstrated
in detail by scientific observation.
But these main propositions, which the modern scientist regards as his
own gains, because he has had to win them afresh by his own toil from the
errors of the ancient and mediæval world, are of no great significance
when compared with the far greater residuum of questions that still
remain unanswered. Du Bois-Raymond, as is well known, described these
“world riddles” in the year 1880 as in part unsolved, in part insoluble.
They are seven in number: (1) The nature of matter and force; (2) the
origin of motion; (3) the first beginning of life; (4) the adaptation of
nature to certain ends; (5) the rise of sensation and consciousness; (6)
the origin of thought and speech; (7) freedom of will.
It is easy to see that, compared with these fundamental questions, which
may be summed up in the great question of all, “God and the world,” the
whole sequence of cosmic research from Anaximander to Haeckel is merely
of secondary importance. It is, as it were, the surface of the matter;
and even if, with Goethe, we feel the inadequacy of the apothegm of
Haller, the poet and naturalist, “Into the heart of nature no created
spirit may penetrate,” yet we cannot but see that as yet we poor mortals
are only nibbling at the rind, and that centuries more of labour are
needed to penetrate its diamond hardness.
Thus everything that has hitherto been achieved is, as it were, a
mere prelude to the abstract presentment of cosmic principles, and
consequently the rudimentary beginnings of study in this sphere are far
less remote from its present condition than is the case in any other
department of the intellectual activity of mankind. And hence, even at
the present day, the consideration of Greek philosophy is not only the
most interesting, but also by far the most directly profitable part of
the study of antiquity. No man who has not thoroughly studied the systems
of Democritus, Plato, and Aristotle can become a profound philosopher in
our own time.
“The love of wisdom” was the name which, from the fifth century B.C.
onwards, the Greeks bestowed on any kind of intellectual endeavour which
was diverted from the practice and directed to the theory of life. The
scope of this striving naturally varied in different periods. In the
infancy of Greek speculation, _i.e._, in the sixth and fifth centuries
B.C., men pored with wide, childlike eyes over the marvels of nature
that lay about them and tried to find in natural science the solution
of the riddle of existence. Philosophy was then mainly the embodiment
of scientific and mathematical research, that is to say, it was what we
nowadays call “Science.”
A troublous period followed, represented by the Sophists, a time of
youthful storm and stress, out of which the mature philosophy of ideas
developed towards the end of the fifth century. The term “philosopher”
begins to acquire a professional meaning. Side by side with the Sophist,
who supplied “culture” in return for money, stood the philosopher, who
directed the course of education without remuneration. At first, it is
true, this education was confined to morals. But in Plato it proceeded
to expand into a study that comprised mathematics, logic, physics, and
ethics, as well as politics, forming a pyramid built on the broadest
of possible bases and culminating in the idea of Good. By that time
a “philosopher” had come to mean one who is capable of grasping the
eternal idea (Plato, Rep. VI, 484 A). Next, in the Universal Encyclopædia
of Aristotle, this platonic structure is completed and made habitable
within and fitted to human requirements. Under him the idea and the term
“philosopher” attained its maximum extension. Thereafter both begin to
narrow down. The end of the fourth century witnessed the collapse of the
Greek state, to the insecure structure of which the philosophers had
never been blind.
With the fall of the Hellenic municipal system and the rise of the
Macedonian sovereignty a new world comes into being, in which the leaders
are monarchs and no longer individual citizens. The outlook and sphere
of action of the individual is restricted. Men grow to be eminent in
practical affairs, experts in the art of living, less eager to solve the
riddle of the universe than that of the personal Ego, by withdrawing
men from the tumult of external affairs and guiding them into the
imperturbable calm of philosophic conviction as into a sure haven. Hence
in the systems of the Stoa and of Epicurus and Pyrrho the designation of
philosopher assumes the meaning of a counsellor in the conduct of life,
who, in the lack of political liberty then prevailing, held up an ideal
of liberty within, which no tyrant could menace.
In proportion as the sphere of philosophy in the Hellenistic world
narrowed to the consideration of the Useful and the Practicable, the
sphere of its influence widened. Alexander’s expedition had thrown
the East open to Greek civilisation, and the assiduous and subjective
temperament of the youth of the Semitic peoples was drawn to the wisdom
of the Greeks. An active process of endosmosis and exosmosis set in
between the countries of the West and East. During the period from
the third to the first century B.C. this interchange created a new
civilisation, destined to form the basis of the _Imperium Romanum_ in
matters temporal and the _Imperium Christi_ in matters spiritual. But at
this period the clear outlines of development tend to become blurred.
As the Hellenic nation expands into the Hellenistic peoples, as the
national language of Greece becomes the common medium of the East, nay,
of the whole civilised world, the eclecticism which had been formed
out of certain elements of the old Greek philosophy under the dominant
influence of the Stoa gained ground on all sides. In the time of Christ,
Greek philosophy is an indispensable requisite of the higher culture,
and the university of Athens, with its professors, whose appointment the
state soon took upon itself, is the one where the educated Roman and
Cappadocian alike must have studied. The Greek private tutor, recommended
by the head of some school or other at Athens, becomes a standing
institution in Roman families of distinction, and is treated with the
contempt due to such a _Græculus_, ranking first among the slaves of the
household.
Times soon change, however. Under the philosopher Marcus, philosophy
gained admission to courtly circles, and presently became indispensable
in the conflict with the increasing might of Christianity. After the
Christian conception of the world had conquered under Constantine, the
university of Athens became the bulwark of Paganism. Neo-Platonism, a
new philosophy bred of the enthusiastic temperament of the East, the
congenial philosophy of Plato and the erudition of Aristotle, fought the
last fight with the courage of despair. But though its champions were,
for the most part, superior in courage, moral character, and scientific
learning to the bishops whom they withstood, philosophy and the ancient
world had played out their part. In the latter end of the period of
antiquity the overseer of any craft (as, for example, the overseer of the
quarrymen in the _Passio Sanctorum IV Coronatorum_) was called in popular
parlance _philosophus_ to distinguish him from the artisans. _Sic transit
gloria mundi._
I
With the term “philosophy” as our guide, we have made a rapid superficial
survey of the progress of the studies it included in these eleven
hundred years of development (585 B.C.-529 A.D.). We will now consider
in somewhat fuller detail the three phases which cover the Greek epoch
proper, _i.e._, the first three centuries, from Thales to Pyrrho
(585-270), with a special view to the study of their internal evolution.
The Greek nation is almost the last of all the civilised peoples of the
ancient world to enter upon the scene of history and bulk largely in
the minds of men. The long period during which the Greeks dwelt among
their Aryan kindred, fruitful in intellectual progress as their language
proves it to have been, has passed utterly out of the historic memory
of the race. And yet the beginnings of scientific knowledge must have
fallen within this period, in so far as the dim prevision of eternal and
perpetual motion dawned upon men’s minds from the observation of the
moon (_mēnē_, from the root _mē_, to measure), from chronology, and the
consequent observation of cosmic laws. Nor have any other than mythical
records come down to us from the first thousand years in which the
Hellenes dwelt in the Balkan peninsula, then-future home, side by side
with the original inhabitants and other migratory tribes; but from the
buildings and monuments which the earth has yielded to Schliemann’s and
Evans’ spades we can form some conception of the might of these rulers
and the splendour of the knightly life they led.
A faint reflection of the Middle Age of Greece has been preserved in
the epic poetry of Homer, the most ancient portions of which date back
to the year 1000 B.C., while the latest bring us down to the time of
Thales, that is to say, to the sixth century. The Homeric bards do not
philosophise as the Stoics fancied they did, they look upon life with
living eyes in the true artist spirit, and reproduce it “not sickbed
o’er with the pale cast of thought.” Only in a few later passages of
the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ do we catch strange notes that harmonise
ill with that _joie de vivre_ which is the keynote of the epics. We see
that in those strenuous days, when the Greeks were bent upon carrying
their commerce to the uttermost ends of the earth and satisfying the ever
increasing clamour of the populace for food and power, the nation begins
to pass over from the light-hearted carelessness of the epic of chivalry
to the harsher and more reflective didactic poetry of Hesiod. Indeed, in
one of the later passages of the _Odyssey_ (_Nekyia_) we note an evident
reflex of the Orphic cosmologies, in which, under the name of a Thracian
bard of remote antiquity, a mournful and pessimistic strain of poetry,
dealing with sin and penitence, stands contrasted with the optimistic
acceptance of the existing order of things which is characteristic of
Homer.
The forces which brought philosophy, properly so called, to the birth
at the beginning of the sixth century were three in number. First,
the poetry then extant, which had cast into artless shape a number of
speculative observations on the subject of the Cosmos--such as the
conceptions of Oceanus encircling the earth, of Zeus dwelling in ether
above it, of Tartarus beneath it, and so forth. Nothing but a cool
head and a turn for systematisation was needed to convert these images
into “ideas” and to combine the latter into a homogeneous and coherent
conception. Another service was rendered by the study of geography,
mathematics, and astronomy, developed as it had been by the long voyages
of Milesians and Phocæans in the Mediterranean after they had supplanted
the Phœnicians. A school of navigation came into being at Miletus, which
city had successfully opened up the Euxine in the seventh century; and
both Thales and Anaximander were trained in it. Miletus, where the trade
with Egypt was started about the same time and the establishment of
permanent factories like Naucratis taken in hand, likewise constituted
the meeting-place of the geometry and astronomy of the Egyptians,
whose learning was formerly much over estimated, with the far superior
astronomical science of the Babylonians. The reports of mariners, charts,
the catalogue of the stars, all combined with Oriental tradition and the
unbiassed perspicacity of the Greeks to give the world the first science,
_i.e._, research built upon a basis of empiricism, tested by the methods
of mathematics and logic, and aiming at a harmonious interpretation of
the Cosmos. To give a name to this study the Ionians evolved the idea of
_Historia_, which in the sixth century took the place of _Philosophia_;
the latter not coming into use until the fifth century.
In this place I must mention the third element, although it is not in
evidence in the earliest exponents of Ionian philosophy. It is the
tendency to mysticism, to abstraction from the world, then beginning to
develop in the Orphic school, which has left traces of its influence with
ever-increasing distinctness in Anaximander, Pythagoras, Heraclitus, and
Empedocles. It favoured the rise of a transcendental idealism which,
although we do not find it matured into immaterial conceptions in these
first natural philosophers, yet contains the germ of Plato’s dualistic
idea of the universe. Not that the curve of development runs in smooth
ascent from Thales to Plato; it exhibits the spiral windings inseparable
from historic processes, since every new tendency calls forth the
antagonistic principle to that which has spent its force, and thus brings
about the necessity of reaction in a retrospective sense.
Thales, who enjoyed great repute in his native city of Miletus and
throughout Asia Minor at the commencement of the sixth century, calls
water the beginning of all things. This was no new idea. For before his
time poets had spoken of Oceanus, of the origin of the gods, and of the
deluge from which the world was born anew. And the infinite sea could not
but lie close to the thoughts of a seafaring nation.
The novel and genuinely philosophic element in this proposition is
rather the monistic endeavour to refer all phenomena to a single cause,
to be sought not in heaven but on earth. For that which is taken as
the beginning is not Oceanus, or, it may be, Poseidon, as in the older
cosmogonies, but this palpable substance of water, out of which all
things come and to which they all return. This original matter is
indeed supposed to be animated by a divine spirit, but this divinity
is not a person. There is no place for it on Olympus. Rather is it the
expression of the immanent force which this philosopher recognised in
the incomprehensible properties of the magnet, and there called “soul.”
This enduing of nature with a soul is characteristic of the infancy
of speculation, and hence this Ionic philosophy has also been called
Hylozoism (the doctrine of living matter). The monistic impulse, which
would bind the world and this single and supposed divine primeval force
together, is diametrically opposed to the polytheistic tendency of the
popular religion of Greece. Even in the first Greek philosophers this
aspiration after unity points forward to monotheism, which was preached
by Xenophanes, the Ionian, at the end of this same century.
Of all the achievements of Thales his prediction of the eclipse of
the sun (May 28, 585) is that which caused the greatest amazement,
although its scientific significance is the most trifling of any. For,
as the history of astronomy proves beyond controversy, Thales and his
whole generation lacked the rudiments of knowledge necessary for the
calculation of eclipses, and had not the faintest notion of how they
came about. Hence he can only have employed according to a fixed method
some such formula as the Chaldeans had gained from empiric observation
in calculating their eclipse period of eighteen years and eleven days
(_Saros_). The rule only suffices for approximate predictions. As a
matter of fact, Herodotus, the earliest witness to this event, states
that Thales allowed a margin of a whole year for the occurrence of the
eclipse.
Thales himself left no written works, and this Ionic _Historia_ first
emerges into the full light of day with Anaximander of Miletus, who
founded the Ionic school about a generation later. In him the three
forces are strongly marked and defined--first the scientific spirit,
which impelled him to give visible expression to the geographical ideas
of his countrymen by means of a map of the earth’s surface, and to
make a systematic description of the heavens with the stationary and
revolving celestial bodies. With him originated the conception of the
constellations as a system of spheres rotating through and within one
another, and it was his mathematical imagination that led him to assume
the existence of certain fixed intervals between the revolving spheres,
arbitrarily determined as to number, but expressing in their proportion
the idea of harmony.
Here we have the germ of the speculations of Pythagoras, on which, as is
well known, the laws of Copernicus and Kepler are founded. The vein of
poetry in the Ionian character is manifest not only in this intuitive
perception but in the aptness of his imagery, when he calls these spheres
“chariot-wheels,” from the rim of which the fiery flames of the sun,
moon, etc., start out like felloes. The scientific element in his system
is evident in the manner in which he follows out biologically the idea of
Thales concerning water. If all things have at one time been water, then
organisms cannot originally have been created as land animals. Hence man,
who now comes into the world utterly helpless, has been gradually evolved
from pisciform creatures--the first germ of Darwinism.
Lastly the pessimistic mysticism which had lately arisen is clearly
manifest in him. When he regards the origin of all individual existences
as a wrong committed by them in separating themselves from the All-One,
we can only understand him by referring to Orphic religious ideas, in
which birth is looked upon as a decline and fall from the blissful
seats of the gods and earthly life is represented as a vale of misery.
Death is consequently the penalty which the individual pays for his
presumption, whether the individual be a man or a celestial body. For
the earth and all other Cosmoi are doomed to extinction in an “Infinite”
which corresponds to the ancient idea of Chaos, and, like that, is
not conceived of as a vacuum but as matter in an undefined form. This
alternation of creation and annihilation, this perpetual motion,
anticipates the eternal flux of Heraclitus of Ephesus, who at the end
of the sixth century and the beginning of the fifth, transformed the
teaching of Anaximander into keener dialectics.
In comparison with this Ephesian thinker the successors of Anaximander
at Miletus and whatsoever following they had down to the end of the
fifth century sink into total obscurity. Before turning our attention
to Heraclitus, however, we must first consider the man who transplanted
the Ionic _Historia_ from Ionia to Italy and there elaborated both the
scientific and mystic side of it with marvellous assiduity--that is,
Pythagoras.
Pythagoras left Samos about the year 530, and turned his steps towards
Croton in lower Italy, where he found virgin soil for his labours. The
mathematical foundation upon which the Ionic school is based attains
an excessive predominance with Pythagoras. Epoch-making maxims are
associated with his name, and probably not without good reason. But the
speculative tendency of the Ionic mind prompted him to set up number
itself as a principle; the Infinite of Anaximander being conceived of
arithmetically as the Uneven, _i.e._, that which cannot be divided by
two. Since the Even and Uneven alone co-exist, the sacred Three is
compounded of Unity and Duality, as is also the Four (_tetraktys_), the
root of Being. By simply adding these first four numbers together the
Decas (1 + 2 + 3 + 4 = 10) is obtained. The cosmos is made to consist
of ten celestial bodies, corresponding to this Decas, by the addition
of the heaven of the fixed stars as an outermost crust, and the earth
and the “anti-earth” (_antichthon_) containing the central fire, at the
heart of it. The earth and other stars moved round this centre, and here
we have the first glimpse of the modern conception which explains the
apparent diurnal motion of the heavens by the rotation of the earth. This
rudimentary idea, as elaborated by later Pythagoreans, and particularly
by Aristarchus of Samos in the Alexandrine period, constitutes the first
starting-point we can assign to the Copernican system of the universe.
Pythagoras made the astounding discovery that the harmonic intervals of
the seven-stringed lyre can be reduced to simple rational proportions
(the octave = 1:2, the fifth 2:3, the fourth 3:4, the whole tone 8:9). He
then sought for a like scheme in the harmony of the spheres, and, as the
geometric habit of the Greek mind converted these arithmetical relations
into lines and planes, the whole process by which the universe came into
existence seemed to be a sum in arithmetic.
The strong tinge of mysticism which Pythagoras had brought with him
from the Orphic influences of his native land to his new home in Italy
served as a wholesome corrective to this exaggerated rationalism. Every
religious sect thrives better in a colony than in the mother-country,
as is demonstrated in the case of William Penn and many others. The
aristocratic and religious league which Pythagoras founded at Croton
prospered mightily, and presently the whole of lower Italy and Sicily was
covered with branches of the order. Its religious ideas, particularly
that of the transmigration of souls, were not new, although they have
been claimed as peculiarly Pythagorean. Orphic mysticism had adopted
in precisely the same fashion the notion of the fall of the spirit and
its purification by transmigrations of all kinds into the bodies of
men and animals. But the earnestness with which noble-minded men lived
conformably to these ideas in matters of practice and brought them into
connection with the results of scientific research strongly impressed the
ancient world; and the close freemasonry which linked Pythagoreans from
every quarter with one another set forth an ideal of manly friendship
which served as a model for the institution of the Academy and similar
philosophic societies.
But the too strongly marked political complexion of these Pythagorean
societies contained the seed of their destruction. At the end of the
sixth century and the beginning of the fifth the aristocratic principle
was everywhere on the decline, and in Italy itself the Pythagoreans were
attacked on democratic grounds by Xenophanes of Colophon, who ridiculed
the aristocratic physical sports in which even distinguished Pythagoreans
(such as Milo) indulged, and vaunted the intellectual sport of his own
_Sophia_. The said wisdom, it must be confessed, was of a negative rather
than a positive character.
Xenophanes attacked Homer, the Bible of the ancients, in verses of fierce
satire, showing the gods as there depicted to be examples of every kind
of immorality. By the unparalleled vigour with which he transferred the
monistic tendency of Ionic rationalism to the religious problem, he,
first of all Greeks, originated the monotheistic conception of the Deity,
which none of the later philosophers ventured to maintain with such
unflinching boldness in face of the polytheism of the vulgar herd. To
the aristocratic submission to authority in matters of belief required
by the Pythagoreans this democratic philosopher opposed the prerogative
of doubt, and he has consequently been lauded by the sceptics of all
ages as their standard-bearer. At this stage of physical observation,
indeed, doubt sets in concerning natural objects. Xenophanes discovers
that the rainbow is an optical illusion. He promptly generalises in
his scepticism; the sun and the other stars are nothing but fiery
exhalations. This assumption will lead to further results among his
Eleatic friends.
Meanwhile in the mother-country speculation advanced with huge strides.
Heraclitus, a descendant of the royal dynasty of Ephesus, withdrew
from his democratic fellow-citizens into haughty isolation. Instead
of concerning himself with the scientific gossip which tended to make
the Ionic _Historia_ lose itself in detail, he laid stress upon the
vast concatenation of things. He made the fundamental laws of thought
his starting-point, in place of the principles of mathematics. The
selection of physical propositions which he deduced poetically from
his observations of nature are far more than mere natural symbolism.
Fire, constantly transformed into water and earth and as constantly
exhaling upwards to the celestial fire, is to him a type of the perpetual
change of phenomena that veils the eternal and immutable Law (_logos_),
identical in everything but name with the Harmony of the Pythagoreans,
which expresses itself in numbers eternally the same. The law of man
feeds, he says, upon the divine law manifesting itself in fire.
Here we have the germ of the vast scheme of law which binds God and the
world, physics and morals, into a compact entity in the Pantheism of the
Stoic philosophy. Since he places fire and soul upon the same footing, it
follows that human physiology and psychology are explicable by the same
formula, to which he likewise ingeniously adapts the Orphic ideas. Thus
Heraclitus has exercised great influence upon succeeding generations, and
Hegel’s system avowedly leans upon him.
Equally great is the influence of Parmenides, the Kant of the ancient
world. Descended from an Ionian family of rank which had taken refuge
at Elea in Italy at the time of the occupation of Phocæa (560), he
carries on the tradition of the philosophic poetry of Xenophanes, whose
Pantheistic Monism he defends in acute polemics against the “two-headed”
Heraclitus. Being--one, eternal, indivisible, immutable, unchangeable--is
alone intellectually conceivable. All beside--multiplicity, divisibility,
mobility, variability--is logically inconceivable and therefore
non-existent. Reason (_logos_) is consequently the measure of all things.
His system is abstract and logical to absurdity, but his postulate
that this monistic Being must be bounded like a globe that is equally
closed in all directions reminds us that we are still in the age of
physics. In him the scepticism of Xenophanes hardens into the assertion
that everything which contravenes his logical postulate of the Sole
Existent--such as multiplicity, colour, motion, becoming and ceasing to
be--is mere illusion.
The logical and sceptical bias of the Eleatics is surpassed by the
hair-splitting dialectics of Zeno, whose evidences against motion and
multiplicity still perplex the thinkers of to-day. On the one hand
this precise manipulation of the laws of thought which represents the
culminating point of Ionic rationalism redeems the negative Sophism
which was beginning to deny the actuality and perceptibility of things
themselves (Protagoras, Gorgias), while on the other hand the positive
result of this strict definition of the highest conception of Being
was to call forth a series of systems which came into existence almost
simultaneously, though subject in part to reciprocal influence, a little
before the middle of the fifth century. Such was the Doctrine of the
Elements taught by Empedocles of Agrigentum, who once more found the idea
of the imperishable principle in the fourfold root of Being (the four
elements) and brought about the Heraclitic alternation of the external
world by the introduction of the two polar forces of love and hate.
The idea of the Element in endless subdivision (which could not be evaded
in the world-process of Empedocles) and in endless diversity of quality
was strongly brought out by Anaxagoras the Ionian in his _homoiomere_.
To this chaos he opposed the thinking and directing reason (_nous_)
as a distinct existence, thus definitely breaking with the idea of a
hylozoistic union of matter and force, which had already threatened to
go to pieces in the systems of Heraclitus and Parmenides, and setting
forth the positive dualism of God and the world, _i.e._, of the Universal
Reason working towards predetermined ends and the blind chaotic mass of
matter.
More important than either of these two is Leucippus of Miletus, the
founder of the atomistic theory, who, as Theophrastus rightly asserts,
starts from the position of Parmenides. For he finds the homogeneous,
eternal, complete, and indivisible, unchangeable Existence, to which no
quality can be ascribed, in the “atom,” and solves the difficulties which
arose for the Eleatics out of the idea of multiplicity by assuming the
existence of an infinite number of such units. Hence results a mechanical
interpretation of nature, which proved of all ancient systems the most
serviceable for the elucidation of physical and physiological facts. By
explaining sensory impressions by mechanical transmission from object
to subject, he propounds the first theory of sensory perception, and
since, in consequence of this assumption, he regards such qualities as
colour, taste, etc., as subjective sensory impressions to which atoms in
different arrangements correspond objectively, he lays the foundation of
a distinction between primary and secondary qualities which has not been
rightly appreciated until modern days.
Generally speaking, the value of the Leucippic theory has only been
recognised since the Renaissance. For although Democritus of Abdera
extended his master’s admirable system to fresh departments of knowledge,
established it more firmly by combating the sensualism of Protagoras and
other theories arising from a misunderstanding of Leucippus, and, above
all, brought it to a high pitch of mathematical and notional exactitude,
yet the atomistic school which continued to exist at Abdera till into
the fourth century has passed almost utterly out of mind. Plato ignored
it, although he adopted many of its theories indirectly; Aristotle alone
made use of it, though not as regards the main points of its teachings;
and Epicurus, who borrowed from it almost the whole of his theoretical
science, by this very absorption played the chief part in the destruction
of the Abderite writings, the greatest loss that science has ever
suffered.
How can we explain this astounding disregard of atomistic philosophy? In
some degree by the fact that Leucippus settled in the barbarous north,
far away from Athens, which had grown since the Persian wars to be more
and more the _prytaneion_, or central focus of warmth to Hellas, and
drew all talent to itself from every quarter; and further, from the fact
that the natural science which was dominant in the sixth century and the
beginning of the fifth--and was regarded, indeed, as the only legitimate
kind of scientific thought--lost its hold on men’s minds towards the
middle of the fifth century. We have evidence of this in Eleatism,
which, with Zeno and Melissus, devoted itself to purely dialectical
questions and abandoned the interpretation of nature. We have evidence
of it, again, in Empedocles, who in his second series of didactic poems
(_Katharmoi_) flings himself into the arms of Orphic mysticism; and in
his pupil, Gorgias, who proceeded from physics to nihilism and thence
to mere superficial rhetoric. We have the strongest proof of all in
Democritus himself, who embraced inductive logic, æsthetics, grammar,
and ethics within the range of his studies as well as the old questions
of physics. Thus during the Peloponnesian War the way was prepared for
the new epoch which was performed with Athens for a stage, and Socrates,
Plato, and Aristotle for heroes.
II
Socrates, the Athenian, brought philosophy, as Cicero says, from heaven
to earth; that is to say, in place of one-sided speculation upon nature
he pursued an equally one-sided study of ethics. In his practical,
matter-of-fact way he availed himself of what Eleatic ontology had
acquired in order to settle the fundamental ideas of morality and to
demonstrate the possibility of scientific proof in face of the nihilistic
fallacies of sophistry which despaired of both. So much we may accept
as certain from received accounts. All the details of his teaching are
wrapped in doubt, for we possess no historical account of it, but merely
works of an apologetic character, in which liberal and justifiable
advantage is taken of the prerogatives of fiction. Neither Plato nor
Xenophon (the latter of whom did not take up his pen until after a
superabundant crop of Socratic literature had come into being) can be
accepted as historic evidence without further ado. Nevertheless both the
disciples of Socrates and his opponents, Aristophanes and Spintharus (the
father of Aristoxenus), bear witness to the extraordinary personality of
the man.
The rights of the individual were not recognised until the fifth century.
The atomistic theory of Leucippus and Democritus sees the Eternal and
Constant not in the All-One of Xenophanes and Parmenides, but in the
individual. The philosophy of the Sophists breaks the bonds of authority,
and in the motto “Man (the individual) is the measure of all things,”
Protagoras sets up the charter of subjective inclination. This charter
Socrates adopts, but he opposes to the liberty of the individual will
the counteracting force of obedience to the dictates of the individual
conscience. But conscience, as the German and Latin name for it alike
imply, means knowledge. A man should therefore act upon his own judgment,
but only in so far as his action is founded upon norms scientifically
determined. Thus Socrates reads a deeper meaning into the admonition of
the Delphic god, “Know thyself,” by recognising the independence of the
will.
Inasmuch as traditional usage and the law of the state are thus tacitly
set aside (and on this point Aristophanes judged more correctly in his
caricature than the apologists Plato and especially Xenophon will admit)
Socrates is the preacher of a new private morality which traverses the
public morality of classic antiquity. His death sentence is so far
intelligible, though it remains an act of crude, reactionary violence.
The greatness of soul, so far beyond the ordinary level of mankind,
which, according to all accounts, the philosopher displayed at the near
prospect of death, wrought upon a far wider circle than that of his
disciples and contemporaries. His martyrdom set the seal upon the victory
of the Ideal philosophy in Athens.
Socrates himself represents a complete individuality, hence his method
of education has been of service to individualities the most dissimilar.
What contrasting types do we find in Xenophon, the bigoted and stupid
cavalry officer; and Plato, the witty and profound thinker; the cynic
Antisthenes full of the pride of beggary, and the frivolous courtier
Aristippus! They all portrayed themselves rather than their master in
their writings, and yet each one of them has in some way or other his
part in him.
Of all these disciples of Socrates, two only have influenced the
afterworld, Antisthenes and Plato, Athenians both, the former a plebeian
and founder of the philosophy of the proletariat, the latter, sprung from
an old and noble family, an aristocrat of the purest water in all his
philosophic ideas. Antisthenes carried the practical and matter-of-fact
temper of his master to extremes. Virtue with him is a question of
character, and therefore scorns empty words and learning. Logic and
mathematics are superfluous, virtue is the only good, vice the only evil;
everything else is a matter of indifference. This meagreness of theory
is made good by strength of will. Force of character, freedom from the
prejudices of conventional custom, conventional religion or conventional
government--these are what distinguish the true freeman, the man free in
soul, from the slave.
The impression produced by this king in rags in the midst of that age of
decadence was striking beyond belief. He with his barking voice seemed to
be the warning cry of the proletarian admonishing men to return to nature
and to simplicity of life. His acute and witty writings were gladly read.
His school, which can show one disciple of world-wide celebrity in the
person of Diogenes, was gradually merged into the Stoa, which owes to
Cynicism the popular tone of its influential system of ethics. Since the
birth of Christ, the Cynic has come to life again, as of old in the guise
of the mendicant preacher, proclaiming the gospel of renunciation and
holding up the mirror to the corruption of the age. This new Cynicism
was one of the most important precursors of the Christian apostolate.
It awoke once more in the age of the Renaissance, finding its wittiest
exponent in Montaigne, in whose steps J. J. Rousseau afterwards trod. In
him we have the best typical example of the strength and weakness of this
anti-scientific movement.
Plato, the antithesis of Antisthenes, continued in a direct line the
thread of Athenian philosophy. He accomplished, in the widest sense of
the term, the task which Socrates had only begun--that of establishing
science, now discredited by the Sophist, on a new basis.
We are but imperfectly acquainted with the life of Plato and the phases
of his development, for the chronology of his dialogues has not been
determined up to this time, either absolutely or relatively, and it is
a matter of doubt how far their artistic intention admits of a complete
exposition of his system. For Plato’s true work was not his literary
productions, which he himself regarded as of secondary importance
and which obviously reproduce only a fraction of his researches and
speculations, but his Academy, in which, from the eighties of the
fourth century onwards, he gathered together the ablest scholars from
amongst the youth of Greece for study and life in community. If all the
transactions of this Academy had been preserved (like the information
Aristotle gives us concerning the latter years), it may be that we should
be able to trace distinctly the development of this wonderful man. For
Plato is both the most gifted and the most complicated personality of
Greek antiquity, and the depths and recesses of his nature were not
wholly penetrated by his intimate friends, not even by Aristotle; how
much less by us of this latter day. What we do possess is, however, amply
sufficient to indicate at least his place in this summary.
If from the ranks of the Greek thinkers we have so far considered, we
choose out the most eminent leaders and mark the lines of connection
between them, we shall see how they all converge to Plato. He is the
focus of ancient philosophy, whither all that went before him tends, and
whence bright light and warmth stream forth upon posterity down to our
own day.
The range of his achievements alone is enough to make this evident. Like
the Ionians his grasp embraces cosmology, physics, and anthropology. Like
the Pythagoreans he pursues the study of mathematics with ever increasing
devotion, presumably as the basis of his speculations. Like Xenophanes he
enters the school of the ancient Orphic Mysticism, and in the _Timæus_
exalts it into a theology culminating in Monotheism. Like the Eleatics
he ponders the problems of ontology. Like Heraclitus he inquires into
the eternal flow of genesis; he ponders on the ideals of culture and the
political theories of the Sophists, he wrestles with the ideal method of
Socrates, he strives with hostile philosophers of the Socratic school
on this hand and on that (Aristippus, Euclides, and Antisthenes), and,
lastly, he strives with himself as his speculation develops more and more
along theological and mathematical lines. For, as the genuine servant of
Truth, Plato regards himself up to old age as in process of growing and
learning. Nothing is so hateful to him as Dogmatism. Nevertheless there
are so many opinions to which he held with unwavering constancy that we
are probably justified in speaking of the system of Plato.
At the centre of it lies what has crystallised in more living shape out
of the dry conceptions of the Socratic method--the domain of ideas. Even
as Parmenides perceived Being in the eternal All-Existent, accessible to
Reason alone, so Plato sees the being of individual things in that which
pertains to them in common and as such can be grasped by the Reason.
But even as the Eleatic “One” exists even apart from its recognition
as an objective being, so these eternal and unchangeable archetypes
(_ideai_) live in and by themselves as objective essences which exist
wholly apart from the individual objects which partake of their form.
These archetypes, like the Eleatic All-Existent, bear the name of unit
(monad), only in Plato’s scheme there are many such monads, and their
unchangeableness does not exclude the idea of causation. Thus his “ideas”
are the “units” of Parmenides in multiplicity and the “conceptions” of
Socrates endued by metaphysics with the breath of life.
To Socrates the idea of Good and of Virtue lay at the heart of his
teaching, and thus the preponderance of the idea of Good is confirmed
to his pupil, and in its theological elaboration this abstract idea is
converted into the Supreme Reason, the first cause of Being, which is
identical with the Deity.
As to the Eleatics, the external world was an illusion of the senses,
and in any case a thing irrational, so matter and the world of phenomena
which occupies the middle place between matter and ideas is hard to
grasp, and Plato’s notion of the World-Soul which hovers between the
two is as contradictory and obscure as that of the human soul. For
with this gifted poet-philosopher there is much that tarries on the
threshold of consciousness, and fails to struggle into clear light, a
circumstance that harmonises with his own teachings, which find clearness
and singleness of purport in the Eternal and Divine alone, obscurity
and ambiguity in the intermediate terrestrial sphere of genesis, and
utter darkness and inconceivability in the lower sphere of matter and
non-existence. These three stages are repeated in his theory of the soul,
which from desire rises to courage and ultimately to reason. His ethics
and politics, which according to his Hellenic ideas are one and the same,
are calculated for three classes of humanity--the iron, the silver, and
the golden. The last two, the military and learned classes, are the only
ones taken into account in the educational system of his ideal state; for
the proletariat there is no need to be concerned, although Antisthenes
and his successors regarded this very class as the only one capable of
genuine philosophy. But Plato, like the aristocrat he was, has in view
an elect type of humanity, exalted by exceptional intelligence above
the brute multitude and the solid middle-class element and called by
philosophy, _i.e._, the doctrine of ideas, to the helm of the ideal state.
The teaching of the Sophists had abolished law. Plato likewise knows no
law on the lofty level of his ideal state. But the constraint of law
seems superfluous where each individual is trained to be the ideal man.
Forced by bitter experience to moderate his demands upon human nature
and the state towards the end of his life, he sketched in the _Laws_, a
model state on the basis of the old established system of government.
But this system, like the metaphysics of his old age, seems, as it were,
a desertion of his ideals. All that Plato achieved was the education of
a race of pupils in his Academy who far surpassed the common standard
of learning and morals, and who, though unable to save the state, yet
maintained a high standard of knowledge and an ideal of morality for
mankind in the midst of a corrupt society.
The greatest of these Academicians is Aristotle of Stagira, who
displayed a versatility and thoroughness of research which appears
absolutely incomprehensible in our eyes. Like Plato, he steadfastly
held that knowledge is never complete, but that truth is to be found by
unremitting persistence in inquiry. This is probably the reason why
he gave the world some dialogues adapted to the public taste, and with
the help of some of his pupils accumulated and published collections
of historico-philological and scientific matter in an unpretentious
form; but the systematic lectures in which he propounded to the more
advanced followers of his school the results of his speculations and
of his wide empirical observation, together with a critical treatment
of his predecessors, were never published by him. He worked at these
papers his whole life long, and many of the didactic writings which were
edited by his pupils after his death, and which are all we possess of the
whole body of Aristotle’s works, bear evident traces of gradual growth,
correction, and amplification.
In a sketch like the present it is impossible to give so much as a
summary of the contents of this admirably arranged encyclopædia, which
ranked as the richest storehouse of every kind of empiric and speculative
science from the beginning of the Christian era down to modern times. The
essential points in which his life-work makes an advance on that of Plato
are as follows:
Plato never went so far as to reduce his great discoveries and intuitions
in every department of science to a complete and connected whole, being
averse, on scientific and ethical grounds alike, from the dogmatic
definition inseparable from any systematic treatise. This Aristotle
did, dividing the whole body of philosophy under three principal heads
(theoretical, practical, and poetical) and distinguishing subdivisions
(logic, physics, metaphysics, ethics, and politics, and so forth) within
these divisions by strongly marked lines of demarcation and methods
rigorously exact. He is a Platonist in all things and feels himself so to
be. Even where he displays most independence, as in the development of
syllogisms or in biology, it is impossible to overlook his indebtedness
to the bold speculations of the master.
If the whole work of Plato’s life and of his scholars between 388 and 348
had been preserved to us, the ultimate connection between Aristotle and
the researches of the Academy would probably be even more evident than it
is. Nevertheless there is a marked difference between the speculations of
these two great philosophers. Plato wholly dissevered the Universal and
Essential in things from the Terrestrial and placed it in a heaven beyond
the earth.
Aristotle repudiates this transcendentalism all along the line. The
Universal cannot exist without the archetype, the essence must be
immanent in it. Hence the individual is the only true Substantive,
containing Substance and Matter. This opposition of opinion concerning
“Universalia” is, as is well known, the starting-point of mediæval
Scholasticism (Nominalism, Realism).
The motion of passive substance towards the active form, _i.e._, the
realisation of the Possible, leads up to the idea of development, of
genesis (though not, indeed, in the modern sense) on which Plato’s
speculations had made shipwreck, and passes over Plato’s rigid Eleatism
to join hands with Heraclitus, the philosopher of change, with whom
Aristotle sees the ultimate cause of all motion and all things in the
Deity, itself as eternal as the world, which “yearns towards It as the
bridegroom towards the bride.” Thus soul, too, is the pattern of the
body, hence the purpose of its being. The body is but the instrument
(_organon_) of the soul. Thus Aristotle first coins the name and idea
of organic being and draws a sharp distinction between these animate
creatures (plants, animals, and man) and inanimate nature. In ethics and
politics his speculation treads in the footsteps of Plato, save that, in
this province of thought also, he mitigates the uncompromising rigourism
of the master by his innate bias towards the historically-established
and practically-possible, and turns it to more profitable uses. The
ethico-political speculations of both are, however, adapted to the
aristocratic class at that time dominant in Greece. Alexander, the pupil
of Aristotle, conquered the East during his master’s life-time, but
the philosopher’s opinion that the newly acquired continent should be
governed by other laws than those of Hellas was not practically feasible.
His ethics failed him utterly in face of the new political situation thus
created.
III
At this juncture the cosmopolitan Cynicism, which had outgrown the narrow
particularism of Hellenism as early as the time of Antisthenes, and the
Stoicism which was built upon its foundation later on, proved the form
best fitted to the times. Zeno, sprung of Phœnician blood and brought up
in Cyprus, that is on semi-Asiatic soil, elaborated this theory of life
at Athens, whither he came shortly after the death of Aristotle (about
320). After the dualism that had prevailed from Anaxagoras to Plato and
Aristotle, in which God and the World were set over against one another
as antagonistic principles, Zeno’s theory harks back to the monistic
tendency of the Ionic period. Like that, it is realistic, nay, grossly
materialistic, in contrast to the Idealism of Athenian philosophy. The
result is a consistent Pantheism in which soul and body represent the
analogon to God and the World. Both are of the same essential nature, and
only temporarily divided by transitory differentiation of manifestation.
Zeno’s morality is rigorous, and aims not at the moderation of the
passions (like that of Plato and Aristotle) but at their extirpation. The
inexorable law that holds the world and man in bonds from which there is
no escape, exacts obedience, and to render it voluntarily is virtue.
Since the main object of the Stoic school is the training of the will,
and since wisdom as such is only a means to an end, the dogmatic form
that corresponds to Oriental modes of thought and the despotic system
of contemporary government prevails throughout its teachings. Hence we
can understand how this somewhat coarse, wire-drawn, as it were, but
effective form of philosophy dominates the whole world from this time
forward till about the second century A.D. In essentials it represents
a revival of Heraclitism, just as the antithetical philosophy of
Epicureanism, which prevailed for the same length of time, is in essence
reminiscent of the Abderitic system.
Epicurus (born 342) was the son of an Athenian, but born at Samos. Thus
he had opportunities of making himself acquainted with the philosophy of
Democritus, which was more highly esteemed in Ionia than at Athens. He
did not care for learning for its own sake, however, but for the sake of
its practical application. In this respect, as also in his consistent
materialism, he is closely akin to the Stoic school.
In dogmatic positiveness and immutability Epicurus far surpasses even
the Stoic philosophy. With him the main consideration is a mode of life
which induces a tranquil cheerfulness of temper by the refusal to admit
all disquieting thoughts (as of death, immortality or divine punishment)
and troublesome passions, and by which his followers, while here below,
become partakers of the felicity of the gods. This quietist philosophy
harmonised with the ideals of life which obtained at that period, and
the ardent exaltation of friendship among this free-thinking fellowship
and their ideal of human freedom and dignity atone in some degree for the
hollowness of their theory of life.
Finally Scepticism takes the form of a school in Greece with Pyrrho, who
died in the same year as Epicurus, 270 B.C. He, too, is only solicitous
for tranquillity of mind, but he does not win it by dogmatic faith in
this system of doctrine or that, but in believing nothing whatever,
in thinking nothing right and nothing important. This thorough-going
scepticism is bound to doubt even itself. As a result it neutralises
itself and thus marks the spontaneous dissolution of Hellenic philosophy.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE ACROPOLIS OF ATHENS]
CHAPTER XXXVII. THE REIGN OF TERROR IN ATHENS
Desolate Athens! though thy gods are fled,
Thy temples silent, and thy glory dead,
Though all thou hast of beautiful and brave
Sleep in the tomb, or moulder in the wave,
Though power and praise forsake thee, and forget,
Desolate Athens, thou art lovely yet!
--WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED.
[Sidenote: [404 B.C.]]
In the capitulation on which Athens surrendered, so far as its terms
are reported by Xenophon, no mention appears to have been made of any
change which was to take place in its form of government; and, if we
might believe Diodorus, one article expressly provided that the Athenians
should enjoy their hereditary constitution. This is probably an error;
but if such language was used in the treaty it was apparently designed
rather to insult than to deceive the people; and the framers of the
article, who were also to be its expounders, had in their view not the
free constitution under which the city had flourished since the time of
Solon, but some ancient form of misrule, which had been long forgotten,
but might still be recovered from oblivion by the industry of such
antiquarians as Nicomachus. It is at least not to be doubted that the
Spartan government, if it did not stipulate for the subversion of the
democracy, looked forward to such a revolution as one of the most certain
and important results of its victory. But it may have believed that
its Athenian partisans would be strong enough to effect it without its
interference. And we gather from a statement of Lysias, that Lysander,
after he had seen the demolition of the walls begun, leaving his friends
to complete their work, sailed away to Samos, now the only place in the
Ægean where the authority of Sparta was not acknowledged.
If this was the case, he had scarcely laid siege to Samos before
his presence was required at Athens. Theramenes, Critias, and their
associates, wished to give a legitimate aspect to the power which they
meant to usurp, and to overthrow the constitution in the name of the
people. But they did not think it safe to trust to their own influence
for the first step; and though Agis was still at hand, he might not enter
so cordially into their views, and did not possess so much weight as
Lysander. When therefore a day had been fixed for an assembly to consider
the question of reforming the constitution, Lysander was sent for to
attend the discussion. Theramenes had undertaken the principal part in
the management of the business. He proposed that the supreme power should
for the present be lodged with thirty persons, who should be authorised
to draw up a new code of laws, which however was to be conformable to the
ancient institutions, according to a model framed by Dracontides.
LYSANDER
The presence of Lysander, and the nearness of the Peloponnesian troops,
deterred the friends of liberty from expressing their sentiments on
this proposition. But its nature and tendency were clear, and a murmur
of disapprobation ran through the assembly. Theramenes treated it with
contemptuous defiance; but Lysander silenced it by a graver argument.
He bade the malcontents take notice, that they were at his mercy, and
were no longer protected by the treaty. The fortifications had not been
demolished within the time prescribed, and therefore in strictness of
right the treaty was void. Their lives were forfeited and might be in
jeopardy, if they should reject the proposition of Theramenes. It was
adopted without further hesitation; and a list of the Thirty, of whom
ten were named by Theramenes, ten by the Athenian ephors, and ten were
nominally left to the choice of the assembly, was received with equal
unanimity. The names which it comprised, some of which soon became
infamously notorious were: Polyarches, Critias, Melobius, Hippolochus,
Euclidas, Hiero, Mnesilochus, Chremo, Theramenes, Aresias, Diocles,
Phædrias, Chærilaus, Anætius, Piso, Sophocles (not the poet, who was
now dead), Eratosthenes, Charicles, Onomacles, Theognis, Æschines,
Theogenes, Cleomedes, Erasistratus, Phido, Dracontides, Eumathes,
Aristoteles, Hippomachus, Mnesithides. Besides these a board of Ten was
appointed--perhaps by Lysander himself--to govern Piræus. As soon as this
affair was despatched, Lysander departed with his fleet to Samos, and the
Peloponnesian army evacuated Attica.
The Samians, blockaded by land and by sea, were forced to capitulate
before the end of the summer; they were permitted to leave the city, but
not to carry away any part of their property, except the clothes they
wore.
These terms might be thought lenient, had they been guilty of any
ferocious outrage; but perhaps Lysander did not view their conduct in
that light. He was however probably anxious to return home and to exhibit
the fruits of his victory to his admiring countrymen, and may have been
therefore the more willing to treat with the besieged. When they had
withdrawn, he supplied their place with the exiles who had been expelled
at various times in the civil feuds of the island, put them in possession
of all the property of the vanquished party and appointed a council
of Ten, to govern them, and secure their obedience. He then dismissed
the allies to their homes, and himself with the Lacedæmonian squadron
returned to Laconia.
He brought with him the Athenian galleys surrendered in Piræus, the last
fragments of that maritime power which he had broken, trophies from
the prizes taken at Ægospotami, and 470 talents [£94,000 or $470,000],
the remainder of the tribute which he had collected from the Asiatic
cities during the absence of Cyrus. But we are inclined to conclude from
a story which, though it is not mentioned by Xenophon, is related by
several later writers, with circumstances too minute and probable to
be rejected, that he had previously sent a larger sum--perhaps not much
less than a thousand talents--which he is said to have entrusted to the
care of Gylippus, the hero of Syracuse. Gylippus was subject to the same
infirmity which had occasioned the disgrace of his father Cleandridas.
He could not resist the temptation of embezzling a part of the treasure,
was detected and banished, and put an end to his own life by fasting.
But even the sum mentioned by Xenophon was probably the largest that had
ever been carried at one time to Sparta. To this were added crowns, and
various other presents, which had been bestowed upon Lysander by many
cities, which were eager to testify their gratitude and admiration, or to
gain the favour of the conqueror.
This influx of wealth was viewed with jealousy by several Spartans,
who dreaded the effect it might produce both on their foreign policy,
and their domestic institutions: the example of Gylippus, though by no
means an extraordinary case, might seem to confirm their views: and it
appears that a proposal was made to dedicate the whole to the Delphic
god. But Lysander and his friends strenuously resisted this measure,
and prevailed on the ephors or the people to let the treasure remain in
the public coffers. A part was employed to commemorate the triumph of
Sparta, and the merits of the individuals who had principally helped to
achieve it. Lysander himself adorned one of the Spartan temples with
memorials of his two victories, of Notium and Ægospotami; and the first
might indeed justly be considered as having opened the way for the last.
Tripods of extraordinary size were dedicated at Amyclæ; and at Delphi
the statues of the tutelary twins, Zeus, Apollo, Artemis, and Poseidon,
forming part of a great group, which comprised those of Lysander, who
was represented receiving a crown from Poseidon, his soothsayer Abas,
Hermon the Megarian, the master of his galley, and upwards of twenty-nine
other persons, Spartans or natives of other cities, who had distinguished
themselves at Ægospotami, long attested the gratitude of Sparta towards
gods and men.
CRUELTIES OF THE THIRTY
In the meanwhile the party which had usurped the supreme authority at
Athens, had been unfolding the real character of its domination. The
first care of the Thirty was to provide themselves with instruments
suited to their purposes; they filled all important posts with their
creatures. The ephoralty seems to have merged in their own office. The
council was already for the most part composed of their own partisans,
and needed but few purifying changes; it was now to become the sole
tribunal for state-trials.
It might be inferred from the language of Xenophon’s history, that the
legislative functions which they professed to assume were merely nominal;
but we collect from a hint which he drops elsewhere, that they availed
themselves from time to time of this branch of their authority, to
promulgate laws, or regulations of police, either by way of precaution
or of pretext; and that they exercised a censorial control over the
occupations and conduct of their subjects. But it is probable that they
never intended to publish any code, much less any constitution which
might limit their power. Their main object, in which they seem to have
been unanimous, was to reverse the policy of Themistocles and Pericles:
to reduce Athens to the rank of a petty town, cut off from the sea,
without colonies or commerce, incapable of resisting the will of Sparta,
or of exciting her jealousy. It seems to have been with the design of
signifying this leading maxim of their administration in a sensible
manner, that they altered their position of the bema from which the
orators addressed the assembly in the Pnyx, so that it might no longer
command a view of the sea and of Salamis. They still more distinctly
intimated their intention, while they took a step towards carrying it
into effect, by selling the materials of the magnificent arsenal, which
it had cost a thousand talents to build, for three, to a contractor
who undertook to demolish and clear it away. It was perhaps at a later
period, and for their own security, that they destroyed the fortresses on
the borders of Attica. If they had succeeded in their aims, the history
of Athens might now have been said to have closed; for it would have
ceased materially to affect the course of events in the rest of Greece,
and could have possessed no interest but such as might belong to the
internal changes or quarrels of the oligarchy.
THE SYCOPHANTS
Happily for their country the diversity of their characters was too
great to be reconciled even by the sense of their common interest, and
proved a source of dissension which became fatal to their power. The
men whose ability and energy gave them the predominance over the rest,
were hurried by the violence of their passions into excesses from which
their more prudent and moderate associates recoiled, but which they were
unable to prevent. For some time they preserved a show of decency in
their proceedings, and some of their acts were so generally acceptable,
that the means, though contrary to law and justice, might to many seem to
be sanctified by the end. The first prosecutions were directed chiefly
against a class of men who were universally odious, and had contributed
more than any others to involve the state in the evils from which
they themselves now justly suffered, the informers, or sycophants as
they were called at Athens, who had perverted the laws, corrupted the
tribunals, and had gained an infamous livelihood by the extortion which
they were thus enabled to practise on wealthy and timid citizens, but
more especially on foreigners subject to Athenian jurisdiction, who were
thus, more than by any other grievance, alienated from the sovereign
state. The most notorious of these pests of the commonwealth were eagerly
condemned by the council; and their punishment was viewed with pleasure
by all honest men. Yet the satisfaction it caused must have been a little
allayed in some minds by the reflection, that the form of proceeding by
which they were condemned was one under which the most innocent might
always be exposed to the same fate.
[Illustration: GREEK TERRA-COTTA
(In the British Museum)]
According to the new regulation the Thirty presided in person over trials
held by the council: two tables were placed in front of the benches which
they occupied, to receive the balls, or tokens, by which the councillors
declared their verdict, and which instead of being dropped secretly into
a box, were now to be openly deposited on the board, so that the Thirty
might see which way every man voted. These however were not the only
cases which they brought before the council, even in the early part
of their reign. The persons who before the surrender of the city had
been arrested on information, partly procured by bribery, and partly
extorted by fear, or by the rack, charging them with a conspiracy against
the state, but who had really been guilty of no offence but that of
expressing their attachment to the constitution which was now abolished,
were soon after brought to a mock trial, and judicially murdered.
[Sidenote: [404-403 B.C.]]
Even such executions might be considered as among the temporary evils
incident to every political revolution: and there were some of the
Thirty who did not wish to multiply them more than was necessary to
their safety. But the greater number, and above all Critias, did not
mean to stop here: and perhaps some signs of discontent soon became
visible, which gave them a pretext for insisting on the need of stronger
measures, and of additional safeguards. Two of their number, Æschines and
Aristoteles, were deputed by common consent to Sparta, to obtain a body
of troops to garrison the citadel. The ground alleged was that there were
turbulent men whom it was necessary to remove before their government
could be settled on a firm basis; and they undertook to maintain the
garrison as long as its presence should be required. Xenophon’s language
seems to imply that Lysander had by this time returned to Sparta; if so,
upwards of six months had now elapsed from the surrender of the city.
Lysander, whether present or absent, exerted his influence in their
behalf, and induced the ephors to send the force which they desired,
under the command of Callibius, who was invested with the authority
of harmost. His arrival released Critias and his colleagues from all
the restraints hitherto imposed on them by their fears of their fellow
citizens. They courted him with an obsequiousness proportioned to the
wantonness of the tyranny which they hoped to exercise with his sanction
and aid.
The footing on which they stood with him is well illustrated by a single
fact. An Athenian named Autolycus, of good family and condition, who in
his youth had distinguished himself by a gymnastic victory, had in some
way or other offended Callibius, who, according to the Spartan usage,
raised his truncheon to strike him. But Autolycus, not yet inured to such
discipline, prevented the blow by bringing him to the ground. Lysander,
it is said, when Callibius complained of this affront, observed that he
did not know how to govern freemen. He however understood the men with
whom he had principally to deal; for the Thirty soon after gratified him
by putting Autolycus to death.
In return for such deference he placed his troops at their disposal,
to lead whom they would to prison: and now the catalogue of political
offences was on a sudden terribly enlarged. The persons who were now
singled out for destruction, were no longer such only as had made
themselves odious by their crimes, or had distinguished themselves on
former occasions by their opposition to the ruling party, but men of
unblemished character, without any strong political bias, who had gained
the confidence of the people by their merits or services, and might be
suspected of preferring a popular government to the oligarchy under which
they were living. Xenophon seems to believe that Critias was inflamed
with an insatiable thirst for blood by the remembrance of his exile.
But it would appear that ambition and cupidity, rather than resentment,
were the mainsprings of his conduct, and that he calculated with great
coolness the fruits of his nefarious deeds. Nor was it merely political
jealousy that determined his choice of his victims; the immediate profit
to be derived from the confiscation of their property was at least an
equally powerful inducement. It is uncertain to which of these motives we
should refer the execution of Niceratus, the son of Nicias, who shared
his uncle’s fate, but may have been involved in it more by his wealth
than by his relation to Eucrates. It was perhaps on the like account,
rather than because of the services which he had rendered to the people,
that Antiphon,[1] who during the war had equipped two galleys at his own
expense, was now condemned to death. And it was most probably with no
other object that Leon, an inhabitant of Salamis, who seems to have been
universally respected, and a great number of his townsmen, were dragged
from their homes and consigned to the executioner. The case of Leon is
particularly remarkable for the light it throws on the policy of the
oligarchs. After the arrival of the Lacedæmonian garrison they had begun
to dispense with the assistance of the council; and Leon was put to death
without any form of trial. But they did not think it expedient always to
employ the foreign troops on their murderous errands; they often used
Athenians as their ministers on such occasions, and men who did not
belong to their party, for the purpose of implicating them in the guilt
and odium of their proceedings. When they had resolved on the destruction
of Leon, they sent for Socrates and four other persons, and ordered them
to go and fetch him from Salamis. As his innocence was no less notorious
than the fate which awaited him, Socrates, on leaving the presence of
the Thirty, instead of obeying their commands, returned home. The rest
executed their commission.
These atrocities soon began to spread general alarm; for no one could
perceive any principle or maxim by which they were to be limited for the
future; there was on the contrary reason to apprehend that they would
be continually multiplied and aggravated. Theramenes, who was endowed
with a keen tact which enabled him readily to observe the bent of public
opinion, was early aware of the danger into which his colleagues were
rushing; and he remonstrated with Critias on the imprudence of creating
themselves enemies by putting men to death for no other reason than
because they had filled eminent stations, or performed signal services,
under the democracy; for it did not follow that they might not become
peaceful and useful subjects of the oligarchy, since there had been
a time when both Critias and himself had courted popular favour. But
Critias contended that they were now in a position which they could only
maintain by force and terror; and that every man who had the means of
thwarting their plans, and who was not devoted to their interest, must be
treated as an enemy.
This argument seems for the time to have satisfied Theramenes. But as
deeds of blood followed each other with increasing rapidity, and the
murmurs of all honest citizens, though stifled in public, began to find
vent in private circles, Theramenes again warned his colleagues, that
it would be impossible for the oligarchy to subsist long on its present
narrow basis. He wished that they might be able to dispense with the
foreign garrison, and foresaw that, if they persisted in their present
course, they could never safely dismiss it. His advice now produced some
effect on them; but they seem to have been alarmed not so much by the
danger which he pointed out as by the warning itself. They knew that he
was a man who had never adhered to any party which he believed to be
sinking, and suspected that he might be meditating to put himself at the
head of a new revolution, as in the time of the Four Hundred. And though
his character was so generally understood that he had acquired a homely
nickname,[2] which expressed the readiness with which he shifted his
side, and the dexterity with which he adapted himself to every change
of circumstances, still he might again become a rallying-point for the
disaffected. To guard against this danger they determined to strengthen
themselves by an expedient similar to that which had been adopted by
the former oligarchy. They made out a list of three thousand citizens,
who were to enjoy a kind of franchise which perhaps was never exactly
defined; but one of its most important privileges was, that none of them
should be put to death without a trial before the council. All other
Athenians were outlawed, and left to the mercy of the Thirty, who might
deal as they thought fit with their lives and property.
Theramenes objected to the new constitution, both on account of the small
number of the privileged body, and its arbitrary limitation, which would
show that the selection did not proceed upon any ground of merit.
Since they meant to govern by force, it was impolitic, he said, to
establish such a disproportion between their strength and that of the
governed. His objections were overruled, but not wholly neglected.
They perhaps suggested the precaution which was immediately afterwards
adopted. Under pretext of a review all the citizens were deprived of
their arms, except the knights, and the Three Thousand, who were thus
enabled to cope with the rest. The Thirty now believed themselves
completely secure, and grew more and more reckless in the indulgence
of their rapacity and cruelty. In the low state to which the Athenian
finances were reduced, the maintenance of the garrison was a burden which
they found it difficult to support; and, among other extraordinary means
of raising supplies, it appears that they resorted to the spoliation
of the temples. But this was an expedient which probably required some
caution and secrecy, and which could not be carried beyond certain
limits. One which perhaps appeared both safer and more productive was
suggested by Piso and Theognis, two of their number, who observed that
several of the resident aliens were known to be ill-affected to the
oligarchy, and thus afforded a pretext for plundering the whole class.
They therefore made the proposition that each of the Thirty should have
one of the wealthy aliens assigned to him, should put him to death, and
take possession of his property. Theramenes very truly remarked, that the
sycophants who had rendered the democracy odious to many, had never done
anything so iniquitous as what was now contemplated by the persons who
were used to style themselves the best sort of people, for they had never
taken away both money and life; and he apprehended with good reason that
this measure would render the aliens generally hostile to the government.
But his colleagues, after what they had already done, were not disposed
to view this question on the moral side, and, having braved the hatred
of their fellow-citizens, they were not afraid of provoking the aliens.
The proposition was adopted; and Theramenes was invited to single out his
prey with the rest: but he refused to stain his hands with this innocent
blood. It was however resolved to begin by taking ten lives; and, for
the sake of covering the real motive, two of the victims were to be poor
men, who would therefore be supposed to have suffered for some political
offence.
[Sidenote: [403 B.C.]]
Men who were capable of perpetrating such actions could not long endure
the presence of an associate who refused to take his full share of their
guilt and odium. The colleagues of Theramenes resolved to rid themselves
of a troublesome monitor who might soon prove a dangerous opponent. They
first endeavoured to communicate their distrust of his designs to the
members of the council in private conversation, and then concerted a plan
for an open attack on him. But to insure its success they surrounded
the council-chamber with a band of the most daring of their younger
followers, armed with daggers, which they did not take much pains to
conceal. Critias then came forward to accuse Theramenes, who was present.
Theramenes made a defence, which, with respect to the charges of Critias,
was in most points a satisfactory vindication of his conduct. A murmur of
approbation, which ran through the assembly, warned Critias that he could
not safely rely on its subserviency for the condemnation of Theramenes;
and, after having conferred a few moments with his colleagues, he called
in his armed auxiliaries, and stationed them round the railing within
which the council sat. He then told the councillors, that he thought he
should be wanting in the duty of his station, if he suffered his friends
to be misled; and that the persons whom they now saw round them, also
declared that they would not permit a man who was manifestly aiming at
the ruin of the oligarchy to escape with impunity. Now by virtue of the
new constitution none of the Three Thousand could be put to death except
by a sentence of the council; but all who were not included in that list
might be sent to execution without any form of trial by the Thirty. He
therefore declared that, with the unanimous consent of his colleagues,
he struck out the name of Theramenes from the list, and condemned him to
death.[b]
Xenophon gives a vivid picture of the scene that followed: “On hearing
this, Theramenes sprang upon the altar of Vesta, and said, ‘But I,
gentlemen, entreat you for what is most strictly legal--that it may
not be in the power of Critias to strike off me, or any of you whom he
pleases; but according to the law which these men passed respecting those
in the list, according to that may be the decision, both for you and
for me. And of this, indeed,’ said he, ‘by the gods, I am not ignorant,
that this altar will be no protection to me; but what I wish to show
is, that these men are not only most unjust with regard to mankind, but
also impious with regard to the gods. At you, however, who are good and
honourable men, I am astonished if you do not come forward in your own
defence; knowing moreover, as you do, that my name is not at all more
easy to strike off than each of yours.’ Upon this, the herald of the
Thirty ordered the Eleven to come for Theramenes; and when they had
entered with the officers, led by Satyrus the boldest and most shameless
of their number, Critias said, ‘We deliver up to you this Theramenes
here, condemned according to law: do ye, Eleven, seize, and lead him off
to the proper place, and do your duty with him.’ When he had thus spoken,
Satyrus dragged the condemned man from the altar, aided by the other
officers. Theramenes, as was natural, called both on gods and men to look
on what was doing. But the council kept quiet, seeing both the fellows of
Satyrus at the bar, and the space before the council-house filled with
guards, and not being ignorant they had come with daggers. So they led
off the man through the market-place, while he declared with a very loud
voice how he was being treated. And this one expression also is told of
him. When Satyrus said that he would rue it if he were not silent, he
asked, ‘And shall I not then rue it, if I am?’
“Moreover, when he was compelled to die, and drank the hemlock, they said
that he flung out on the floor what was left of it, saying, ‘Let this be
for the lovely Critias.’ Now I am aware that these sayings are not worth
mentioning: but this I consider admirable in the man, that when death was
close at hand, neither his good sense nor his pleasantry deserted his
soul.”[c]
In Theramenes we find much to condemn, and nothing to approve, except
that he shrank from following his profligate associates in their career
of wickedness. If he had reason to complain that they did not spare the
author of their elevation, the other victims of their tyranny had much
more cause to rejoice in his fate. He seems to have died unpitied by
either of the parties whom he had alternately courted and abandoned.
His death released the Thirty--among whom it is probable that Satyrus
was immediately chosen to supply his place--from the last restraints
of fear or shame which had kept them within any bounds of decency; and
they now proceeded to bolder and more thorough-going measures. They
emulated the ancient tyrants, who had often removed the lowest class of
the commonalty, for whom it was difficult to find employment, from the
capital into the country, and prohibited all Athenians who were not on
the list of the Three Thousand from entering the city.
But by the oligarchs this step seems not to have been adopted so much
with a view to their safety, as to increase the facility of rapine and
murder. They continued to send out their emissaries to seize the persons
and confiscate the property of the citizens, who were now scattered by
their decree over Attica. The greater part of the outcasts took refuge
in Piræus; but when it was found that neither the populous town, nor
their rural retreats, could shelter them from the inquisition of their
oppressors, numbers began to seek an asylum in foreign cities; and Argos,
Megara, and Thebes, were soon crowded with Athenian exiles.
The oligarchs, notwithstanding their Lacedæmonian garrison, and their
reliance on Spartan protection, began to be alarmed at the state to
which they had reduced themselves, and to dread the vengeance of their
exiled enemies, who were waiting so near at hand for an opportunity of
attacking them; and they applied to the Spartan government to interpose
for the purpose of averting the danger. The Spartans, instigated perhaps
by Lysander, issued an edict, which showed to what a degree they were
intoxicated by prosperity. It empowered the Athenian rulers to arrest the
exiles in every Greek city, and under a heavy penalty, forbade any one to
interfere in their behalf.
But this decree was no less impolitic than inhuman; it disclosed a
domineering spirit, which could not but produce general alarm and
disgust; but its object was beyond the reach of the Spartan power. At
Argos and Thebes, and probably in other cities, the injunction and the
threat were disregarded; the exiles continued to find hospitable shelter.
The Thebans more particularly took pains to manifest their contempt
for the Spartan proclamation by a counter decree, directing that the
persecuted Athenians should be received in all the Bœotian towns; that if
any attempt should be made to force them away, every Bœotian should lend
his aid to rescue them; and that they should not be obstructed in any
expedition which they might undertake against the party now in possession
of Athens.
This measure, though the spirit it breathes is so different from that in
which the Theban commander had voted for the extirpation of the Athenian
people, was not dictated either by justice or compassion towards Athens,
but by jealousy and resentment towards Sparta. Very soon after the close
of the war causes had arisen to alienate the Thebans from their old ally.
They were always disposed to set a high value on the services which they
had rendered to the Peloponnesian cause and now conceived that they had
not been properly requited. They put forward some claims relating to
the spoil collected at Decelea, and likewise to the treasure carried to
Sparta by Lysander, which, chiefly it seems at his instance, had been
resisted or neglected. Hence they could not without great dissatisfaction
see Athens in the hands of Lysander’s creatures.
THE REVOLT OF THRASYBULUS
[Sidenote: [404-403 B.C.]]
Thrasybulus, like Alcibiades, had been formally banished by the Thirty;
though it is not certain that he was at Athens when their government
was established. He was however at Thebes when their furious tyranny
began to drive the citizens by hundreds into exile; and the temper now
prevailing at Thebes encouraged him to undertake the deliverance of his
country. Having obtained a small supply of arms and money from his Theban
friends, he crossed the border with a band of about seventy refugees,
and seized the fortress of Phyle, which stood on an eminence projecting
from the side of Mount Parnes, with which it was connected by a narrow
ridge with precipitous sides, twelve or thirteen miles from Athens. The
fortifications had either escaped when the other Attic strongholds were
demolished by the Thirty, or were soon restored to a defensible state.
The oligarchs, confident that they should soon be able to crush so
feeble an enemy, marched against them with the Three Thousand and their
equestrian partisans.[b]
[Illustration: OFFICER’S HELMET]
On their arrival, some of the young men, in a foolhardy spirit,
immediately assaulted the place, producing, however, no effect upon
it, but retiring with many wounds. When the Thirty were desirous of
surrounding it with works, that they might reduce it by cutting off all
supplies of provisions, there came on during the night a very heavy fall
of snow, covered with which they returned the next day into the city,
after losing very many of their camp followers by an attack of the men
from Phyle. Knowing, however, that they would also plunder the country,
if there were no watch to prevent it, they despatched to the frontiers,
at the distance of fifteen furlongs from Phyle, all but a few of the
Lacedæmonian guards, and two squadrons of horse. These having encamped
on a rough piece of ground, proceeded to keep watch. There were by
this time assembled at Phyle about seven hundred men, whom Thrasybulus
took, and marched down by night; and having grounded arms about three
or four stades from the party on guard, remained quietly there. When it
was towards daybreak, and the enemy now began to get up and retire from
their post on necessary purposes, and the grooms were making a noise
in currying their horses--at this juncture the party with Thrasybulus
took up their arms again, and fell upon them at a run. Some of them they
despatched, and routed and pursued them all for six or seven furlongs;
killing more than a hundred and twenty of the infantry; and of the
cavalry, Nicostratus (surnamed The Handsome) and two others also, whom
they surprised while yet in their beds. After returning and erecting
a trophy, they packed up all the arms and baggage they had taken, and
withdrew to Phyle. And now the horsemen in the city came out to the
rescue, but found none of the enemy any longer on the spot; having
waited, therefore, till their relatives had taken up the dead, they
returned into the city.
Upon this the Thirty, no longer thinking their cause safe, wished to
secure for themselves Eleusis, that they might have a place of refuge, if
required. Having sent their orders to the cavalry, Critias and the rest
of the Thirty came to Eleusis; and having held a review of the horse in
the place, alleging that they wished to know what was their number, and
how much additional garrison they would require, they ordered them all
to write down their names, and as each one wrote it down in his turn, to
pass out through the postern to the sea. On the beach they had posted
their cavalry on both sides, and as each successively passed out, their
attendants bound him. When all were arrested, they ordered Lysimachus,
the commander of the cavalry, to take them to the city and deliver them
up to the Eleven. The next day they summoned to the Odeum the heavy-armed
in the list, and the rest of the cavalry; when Critias stood up, and
said: “It is no less for your advantage, gentlemen, than for our own,
that we are establishing the present form of government. As then you will
share in its honours, so too you ought to share in its dangers. You must
give your votes therefore against the Eleusinians here arrested, that
you may have the same grounds with us both of confidence and of fear.”
And pointing out a certain spot, he ordered them openly to deposit their
votes in it. At the same time the Lacedæmonian guard under arms occupied
half of the Odeum; and these measures were approved by such of the
citizens also as only cared for their own advantage.
[Sidenote: [403 B.C.]]
After this, Thrasybulus took those at Phyle, who had now gathered
together to the number of about a thousand, and came by night into
Piræus. The Thirty, on this intelligence, immediately went out to the
rescue with both the Lacedæmonians, and the cavalry, and the heavy-armed;
and then advanced along the cart-way that leads to Piræus. The force from
Phyle for some time attempted to stop their approach; but when the great
circuit of the wall appeared to require a large body to guard it, and
they were not a large one, they marched in close order into Munychia. The
troops from the city drew themselves up so as to fill up the road, being
not less than fifty shields deep. In this order they marched up the hill.
The force from Phyle also filled up the road, but were not more than ten
deep in their heavy-armed; behind whom, however, there were posted both
targeteers and light dart-men, and behind them the slingers. These indeed
formed a numerous body; for the inhabitants of the place had joined them.
While the enemy were coming on, Thrasybulus ordered his men to ground
their shields, and having grounded his own, but keeping the rest of his
arms, he took his stand in the midst of them, and spoke thus:
“My fellow-citizens, I wish to inform some of you, and to remind others,
that of the men who are coming against us, those on the right wing are
they whom you routed and pursued five days ago; and those on the extreme
left are the Thirty, who both deprived us of our country when guilty of
nothing, and expelled us from our houses, and prosecuted the dearest of
our relatives. But now truly they have come into a position, where they
never thought of being, but we have always been praying that they might
be. For we are posted against them with arms in our hands; and seeing
that in former days we were arrested both when at our meals, and asleep,
and in the market-place, while others of us were banished, when, so far
from being guilty of any offence, we were not even in the country; for
these reasons the gods are now clearly fighting on our side. For even in
fair weather they raise a storm, when it is for our advantage; and when
we make an attack, though our enemies are many, they grant to us, who
are but few, to erect trophies. And now, too, they have brought us into
a position, in which our opponents can neither hurl their spears nor
their darts beyond those who are posted before them, through its being
up-hill; whereas we, discharging down-hill both spears, and javelins,
and stones, shall both reach them, and mortally wound many of them. And
one might perhaps have thought that the first ranks, at any rate, must
fight on equal terms; but as it is, if you only discharge your weapons
with spirit, as suits your character, no one will miss, since the road
is filled up with them, and standing on their guard they will all the
time be skulking under their shields; so that we shall be able both to
strike them when we please, like blind men, and to leap on and overturn
them. But, sirs, we must act in such a way that each of us may have the
consciousness of having been most instrumental towards the victory. For
that (if God will) will now restore to us both country, and houses, and
freedom, and honours, and children (such as have them), and wives. O
blessed, then, those of us who, as victors, may see that sweetest day of
all! And happy, too, he who falls! For no one, however rich he may be,
shall enjoy so glorious a monument. I, then, when the time is come, will
begin the pæan; and when we have called on Mars to help us, then let us
all with one heart avenge ourselves on these men for the insults we have
suffered.”
Having thus spoken, he faced about towards the enemy, and remained still.
For their prophet gave them orders not to make the onset before some one
on their side had either fallen, or been wounded: “When, however,” said
he, “that has happened, I will lead the way, and there will be victory
for you who follow, but death to me, as I, at least, believe.” And he
spoke no falsehood; but when they had taken up their arms, he himself, as
though led by some destiny, was the first to bound forward, and falling
on the enemy was killed, and is buried by the passage of the Cephisus;
but the rest were victorious, and pursued them as far as the level
ground. There were slain there, of the Thirty, Critias and Hippomachus;
of the ten commanders in Piræus, Charmides, son of Glaucon; and of the
rest about seventy. The conquerors took the arms, but plundered the
clothes of none of their fellow-citizens. And when this was done, and
they were returning the dead under a truce, many on both sides came up
and conversed together. And Cleocritus, the herald of the initiated,[3]
being gifted with a very fine voice, hushed them into silence and thus
addressed them:
“Fellow-citizens, why are you driving us from our country? Why do you
wish to kill us? For we have never yet done you any harm; but have
shared with you both the most solemn rites, and the noblest sacrifices
and festivals; and have been your companions in the dance, and in the
schools, and in war; and have faced many dangers with you by land and by
sea, for the common safety and liberty of both parties. In the name of
our fathers’ and our mothers’ gods, in the name of kindred, and affinity,
and fellowship (for all these things have we in common with one another),
cease sinning against your country, and be not persuaded by those most
impious Thirty, who, for the sake of their own gain, have killed almost
more of the Athenians in eight months than all the Peloponnesians in
ten years’ warfare. And when we might live together in peace, these
men inflict on us that war which of all is the most disgraceful, and
grievous, and impious, and most hateful both to gods and men--war with
one another. But, however, be well assured, that for some of those now
slain by us, not only you, but we also, have shed many tears.” Such was
his speech. The rest of the enemy’s commanders, from the very fact of
their hearing such fresh appeals to them, led back their men into the
city.
The next day the Thirty, quite dejected and solitary, sat together in
council: while the Three Thousand, wherever they were severally posted,
were at variance with one another. For as many as had acted in a more
violent manner, and were therefore afraid, vehemently maintained that
they ought not to submit to those in Piræus: while such as were confident
that they had done no wrong, both reflected themselves, and were
persuading the rest, that there was no necessity for these troubles: and
they said that they ought not to obey the Thirty, nor suffer them to ruin
the state. At last they voted for deposing them, and choosing others: and
accordingly they chose ten, one from each tribe.
So the Thirty departed to Eleusis; while the Ten, together with the
commanders of the cavalry, directed their attention to those in the city,
who were in a state of great confusion and distrust of each other. The
cavalry also bivouacked in the Odeum, with both their horse and their
shields; and owing to their want of confidence, they kept going their
rounds along the walls, after evening had set in, with their shields, and
towards morning with their horses, being constantly afraid that some of
those in Piræus might attack them. They, being now many in number, and
men of all sorts, were making themselves arms, some of wood, others of
wickerwork, and were whitening them over. Before ten days had elapsed,
after giving pledges that whoever joined in the war, even though they
were strangers, should have equal privileges, they marched out, with many
heavy-armed and many light-armed. They had also about seventy horse;
and making forays by day, and carrying off wood and corn, they slept
again in Piræus. Of those in the city none else came out under arms, but
the cavalry sometimes secured plunderers from the force in Piræus, and
annoyed their phalanx.
[Illustration: STATUE OF DIANA]
And now the Thirty from Eleusis, and those in the list from the city,
sent ambassadors to Lacedæmon, and urged them to come to their support,
as the people had revolted from the Lacedæmonians. Lysander, calculating
that it was possible quickly to reduce those in Piræus, when besieged
both by land and by sea, if once they were cut off from all supplies,
joined in getting a hundred talents lent them, and himself sent out as
harmost, with his brother Libys as admiral. And having himself proceeded
to Eleusis, he raised a large force of Peloponnesian heavy-armed; while
the admiral kept guard that no provisions should go in for them by sea;
so that those in Piræus were soon in a strait again, while those in the
city, on the other hand, were elated again with confidence in Lysander.
When things were progressing in this way, Pausanias the king, filled with
envy at the thought of Lysander’s succeeding in these measures, and so at
once winning reputation and making Athens his own, gained the consent of
three of the ephors, and led out an expedition.[4] All the allies also
joined him, except the Bœotians and Corinthians.
Pausanias encamped on a spot called Halipedum, near Piræus, himself
occupying the right wing, and Lysander, with his mercenaries, the left.
And he sent ambassadors to those in Piræus, telling them to go away to
their own homes; but when they did not obey his message, he made an
assault (so far, at least, as noise went), that he might not openly
appear to wish them well. When he had retired with no result from the
assault, the day following he took two brigades of the Lacedæmonians,
and three squadrons of the Athenian cavalry, and went along to the
Mute Harbour, reconnoitring in what direction Piræus was most easy to
circumvallate.
On his retiring, a party of the besieged ran up and caused him trouble;
annoyed at which, he ordered the horse to charge them at full speed,
and such as had passed the period of youth ten years to accompany them,
while he himself followed with the rest. And they slew about thirty of
the light-armed, and pursued the rest to the theatre in Piræus. There
all the targeteers and heavy infantry of the party in Piræus happened
to be arming themselves. And now the light-armed immediately running
forward began darting, throwing, shooting, slinging. The Lacedæmonians,
when many were being wounded, being very hard pressed, began slowly to
retreat; and upon this their opponents threw themselves on them much more
vigorously. Seeing this, Thrasybulus and the rest of the heavy-armed went
to the support of their men, and quickly drew themselves up in front of
the others, eight deep. Pausanias, being very hard pressed, and having
retired about four or five furlongs to a hill, sent orders for the
Lacedæmonians and the rest of the allies to advance and join him. There
having formed his phalanx very deep, he led it against the Athenians.
They received his charge, but then some of them were driven into the mud
at Halæ, and the rest gave way, about a hundred and fifty of them being
slain. Pausanias erected a trophy, and withdrew.
Not even under these circumstances was he exasperated with them, but sent
secretly, and instructed those in Piræus, with what proposals they should
send ambassadors to him and the ephors who were there. They complied
with his advice. He also set those in the city at variance, and advised
that as many as possible should collect together and come to the Spartan
officers, alleging that they did not at all want to be at war with the
men in Piræus, but to be reconciled together, and both parties to be
friends of the Lacedæmonians. The ephors and the committee appointed
to consider the question having heard all their statements, despatched
fifteen men to Athens, and ordered them, in concert with Pausanias,
to effect the best reconciliation of the parties they could. So they
reconciled them on condition of their making peace with one another, and
returning to their several homes, with the exception of the Thirty, the
Eleven, and the Ten who had commanded in Piræus. If any of those in the
city should feel afraid of remaining there, it was determined that they
should establish themselves at Eleusis.
These arrangements being effected, Pausanias disbanded his army, and the
party from Piræus went up under arms to the Acropolis, and sacrificed to
Athene. But some time afterwards, hearing that the party at Eleusis were
hiring mercenaries, they took the field _en masse_ against them; and when
their commanders had come to a conference, they put them to death; but
sent in to the others their friends and relatives, and persuaded them to
a reconciliation. And having sworn not to remember past grievances, they
lived together under the same government, the popular party abiding by
their oaths.[c]
FOOTNOTES
[1] This Antiphon has been confounded with the celebrated orator.
[2] _Cothurnus_--a shoe which fitted either foot.
[3] [That is, one of the communicants in the Eleusinian mysteries.]
[4] [This curious method of intervention for Athens’ sake has been
variously interpreted. Thirlwall makes quite a drama of benevolent
duplicity about it. According to others, Pausanias was simply moved by a
desire to nip Lysander’s ambition and to put an end to further cruelties
by the Thirty who were already winning general sympathy for the common
people and the democratic cause of Athens.]
[Illustration: GREEK TERRA-COTTA FIGURE
(In the British Museum)]
[Illustration: GRECIAN BUCKLES
(In the British Museum)]