CHAPTER VII.

SCHOOLS OF THE PHILOSOPHERS AND SOPHISTS.

Having thus drawn as complete a picture as the plan of our work would

permit, of the physical training of the Greeks in all its branches,

comprehending Gymnastics properly so called, together with those other

exercises which under the name of field-sports were enjoyed rather

than studied under the lead of no master but experience, we now return

to that mental discipline, which for the most part exerted its

influence in the developement of the intellectual faculties at the

same time that the foregoing bodily discipline brought forth all the

energies of the frame. We shall thus have traversed the whole circle

of Hellenic education, when we shall have exhibited the youth passing

through the schools of the philosophers and sophists into the

world.[794]

Footnote 794:

Cf. M. Ant. Muret. Orat. vii. p. 70. sqq.

Their mode of teaching differed very materially from ours. It scarcely

seemed an object with them to devour large quantities of learning, but

going leisurely again and again over the same ground they appeared to

give the lessons they received time to sink like gentle rain into

their minds. Some advantage, too, arose from their method of teaching,

as far as possible, orally. The master was to them instead of a

library. A book has but one set of phrases for all. But the living

teacher, if he found his pupils could not rise to his language, could

lower it to meet them half-way, could be brief or expansive, or

general or minute, as the necessities of the moment required. There

was a familiarity, too, in the relation, scarcely compatible with our

manners. The youth forgot he was learning, and rather supposed himself

to be searching in the company of a friend for truths equally unknown

to both. This appears to have been more particularly the case in their

moral studies,[795] at least in the Socratic schools, where all the

pomp of wisdom was laid aside that it might be the more popular.

Footnote 795:

Vid. Ant. Muret. Orat. iv. 43. sqq.

It has been already remarked that the first lessons in morals were

learned from the poets, whom, in my opinion, Plato wrongs most

egregiously when he arraigns their fables as so many sources of

immorality.[796] He appears, in fact, wilfully to confound them with

those impostors, the purificators and diviners, who furnished the

Popes with the original hint of penitences and indulgencies, and

expiating crimes by proxy. But this is unjust. It is visiting the sins

of low and sensual versifiers upon the divine heads of bards whom

heaven itself had inspired. However this may be, upon the Greeks young

and old no teachers exercised so powerful an influence as the poets,

who, from Homer down to Callistratos,[797] whether in epic or

after-dinner song, wielded the empire of their feelings despotically,

prompting them to actions pregnant with renown. And the avidity with

which their lessons were imbibed, is compared to that of a swarm of

bees alighting (ἐπιπτομένοι)[798] on a bed of spring flowers. In fact,

what Jason of Pheræ said of himself,—that he was devoured by the love

of empire[799]—appears to have been true of the Athenian youth, in

their irrepressible thirst after knowledge. Such of them, at least, as

were εὐφυεῖς καὶ ἱκανοὶ, are said to have hungered fiercely after

philosophy, and that not for any particular part but for the whole.

And Socrates declares that he who while young is fastidious in his

studies, rejecting this, disliking that, before mature reason has

taught him which is useful and which is not, may consider himself what

he pleases, but can never be great in learning or philosophy. To excel

in these it is necessary insatiably to covet every kind of

instruction, and joyfully to enter on the acquisition of it. He says,

indeed, that they resemble sight-seers, greedy of every spectacle; or

musical people, who are led by the ear wherever fiddling and singing

are going forward; except that, with the latter pleasure is the sole

motive, with the former an exalted passion for truth.[800] But what

truths are the object of philosophy? Those which have regard to the

nature and attributes of goodness, from which, as from a fountain,

flow all the usefulness and advantages of virtue. Philosophy in Greece

comprehended religion, and to be religious was to act justly,

benevolently, mercifully towards men, humbly and piously towards God.

To live thus, that is, to be virtuous, they considered it necessary to

possess a knowledge of the whole theory of ethics, since virtue, in

their opinion, is incompatible with ignorance. But man, besides being

a moral being, accountable to God, is a political being, accountable

to the laws of his country. He has duties also to perform towards that

country. To perform these properly he must comprehend the nature of a

state, and the relations subsisting between the state and the

individuals who compose it; that is, he must be acquainted with the

science of politics. Again in all free states, reasoning and

persuasion, not blind will and brute force, are the instruments of

government. The citizen must, therefore, be versed in logic and

eloquence,[801] that he may think correctly and explain clearly and

forcibly to others the convictions which determine his own judgment.

We have thus a cycle of Greek studies with the reasons on which they

were founded.

Footnote 796:

Plat. de Rep. ii. t. i. p. 112. sqq. Stallb. Cf. Hardion, Dissert.

sur l’Eloquence, iii. Biblioth. Academ. t. iii. p. 194. p. 210. sqq.

Footnote 797:

See Schoel. Hist. de la Lit. Grecq. i. 288. Lowth. Poes. Sacr. Hebr.

p. 12. Leipz.

Footnote 798:

Plat. de Rep. ii. t. i. p. 115. Stallb. On the ardent and noble

temperament of Athenian youth, see the note of Valckennaer, ad

Xenoph. Mem. iii. 3. 13. p. 286. Schneid. Cf. Plat. de Rep. v. t. i.

p. 345.

Footnote 799:

Aristot. Polit. iii. 4.

Footnote 800:

Plat. de Rep. v. t. i. p. 393. seq. Stallb.

Footnote 801:

Plat. Gorg. t. iii. p. 27. De Rep. t. vi. p. 358. sqq. Bekk.

With regard to their religious education, which commenced in the

nursery and was interwoven with every other study, it may be observed

that without it no person at Athens could rise to any eminence, or

command, even in private life, the respect of his fellow-citizens. To

be in favour with them a man must be supposed to stand well with the

gods. They conceived, in fact, that while conscience remained

unstifled, there would be a sense of religion, and that when this

went, probity, for the most part, and honour fled along with it. For

regarding the deity in the light of a parent,—"we are all his

offspring,"—irreligion appeared to them something like a disposition

to parricide, a compound of injustice with the basest and most

atrocious ingratitude. Arrived at this pitch, a man to compass his

ends would scruple at nothing. They, therefore, regarded every symptom

of impiety as a blow aimed at the democracy, of which Zeus was king.

He who tramples on his country’s religion, which is the basis of all

its laws, will infallibly, if it be in his power, trample next on

those laws themselves, and next on his fellow-citizens whom the laws

protect. Hence the terror, the vengeance, and, indeed, the cruelty

arising out of the mutilation of the Hermæ, and the profanation of the

mysteries, and the prosecution which followed, of Alcibiades,

Andocides, and the rest. An attempt had been made to break down that

enclosure of reverential sanctity which surrounded the commonwealth,

and commended it to the protection of heaven. They considered the act

a formal renouncing of the Almighty, and feared,—so imperfect were

their notions,—lest the impiety of the few should redound to the

detriment of the whole.

The remark is common in the mouths[802] of men that the education of

the people should be conformable to the spirit of their institutions.

But this is a mere truism, and means no more than this,—that men

should not be enjoined one thing by their laws and political

constitution, and another by the habits and maxims taught in youth.

The grand difficulty, however, always has been to make them so to

harmonise in practice that they should be but two parts of the same

system.

Footnote 802:

See on this part of the subject Destutt de Tracy. Com. sur l’Esprit

des Loix, p. 25. sqq.

In monarchies[803] a spirit of exclusion, something like that on which

the system of castes is built, must pervade the whole business of

education. The nobility must have schools to themselves, or, if

wealthy plebeians be suffered to mingle with them, superior honour and

consideration must be yielded to the former. The masters must look up

to them and to their families, not to the people for preferment and

advancement; and the plebeians, though superior in number, must be

weak in influence, and be taught to borrow their tone from the

privileged students.

Footnote 803:

In an ill-constituted state, observes Muretus, a good man cannot be

a good citizen, for he will desire to alter the government, which

being bad he cannot respect.—In Aristot. Eth. p. 398.

In an oligarchy, properly so called, there should be no mingling of

the classes at all. Schools must be established expressly for the

governors, and others for the governed. The basis of education should

be the notion that some men were born for rule and others for

subjection; that the happiness of individuals depends on uninquiring

submission to authority; that their rulers are wise and they unwise;

that all they have to do with the laws is to obey them; and all

teachers must be made to feel that their admission among the great

depends on the faithful advocacy of such notions.

In free states, again, the contrary course will best promote the ends

of government; the schools must be strictly public, and not merely

theoretically but practically open to all. There should be no

compulsion to attend them, but ignorance of the things there taught

should involve a forfeiture of civil rights as much as being of

unsound mind; for in truth, an ignorant man is not of sound mind, any

more than one unable to use all his limbs is of sound body. Here the

discipline must be very severe. A spirit rigidly puritanical must

pervade the studies and preside over the amusements. Every tendency

irreligious, immoral, ungentlemanly, as unworthy the dignity of

freedom, should be nipped in the bud. The students must be taught to

despise all other distinctions but those of virtue and genius, in

other words the power to serve the community. They should be taught to

contemplate humanity as in other respects wholly on the same level,

with nothing above it but the laws. The teachers must be dependent on

the people alone, and owe their success to their own abilities and

popular manners. And this last in a great measure was the spirit of

Athenian education.[804]

Footnote 804:

The advantages of which were so much coveted by foreigners, that

they sent their children in crowds to be educated at Athens.—Æsch.

Epist. Orat. Att. xii. 214.

The best proof[805] that could be furnished of the excellence of a

system of education would be its rendering a people almost independent

of government, that is swayed more by their habits than by the laws.

This was preëminently the case with the Athenians. They required to be

very little meddled with by their rulers. Instructed in their duties

and the reason which rendered them duties, accustomed from childhood

to perform them, they lived as moral and educated men live still,

independent of the laws.

Footnote 805:

A commonwealth, says Plato, once well constituted will proceed like

an ever rolling circle. For by persevering in good training and

instruction, the minds and disposition of the people will be

rendered good, and these again in their turn will improve the system

of training and instruction, and even the race of man itself, as the

breed of other animals, is rendered more excellent by care.—De Rep.

t. vi. p. 173. Cf. Isocrates, Areop. § 14. seq.

This was the effect. The causes must be sought in their discipline and

studies. I have observed that among them a principal subject of

investigation was the science of politics, that is the science

according to the principles of which states are framed and preserved.

Nor did they, as some do, conduct their studies in that cold manner in

which men investigate matters of mere curiosity, or things they are

never to do more than converse or write about. They studied it as a

profession, as a means of rising to power, and through power to fame,

that is with all the ardour and earnestness of which enthusiastic

youth is capable. Education by this means exerted an influence unknown

under other forms of government. A consciousness that they were

engaged in a sort of sacred contest, of which all Greece was

spectator, pervaded the youth of every rank, and impelled them

irresistibly into that course of studies which promised the greatest

probability of success. Hence, no doubt much of the enthusiasm with

which philosophy was cultivated. It was often not so much the abstract

love of wisdom as a conviction of the political value of that wisdom

which filled the schools of the great men who taught at Athens,

whether they were physiologists, mathematicians, masters of music, of

strategy, or of eloquence. The example of Pericles applying himself to

natural philosophy under Anaxagoras, and deriving thence those streams

of pure and masculine eloquence which overflowed the Pnyx, operated

forcibly on public opinion. By the same arts and studies men hoped to

mount to equal elevation, forgetting that Anaxagoras only watered the

plant spontaneously produced by nature.

However, the hopes and aspirations I have described filled the schools

first of the philosophers, then of the sophists. And this is the

natural course of things. Few pursue wisdom for its own sake, in order

that it may purify and render holy their own minds. And by this

dispensation of Providence society is a gainer; for, as man is

constituted, no sooner does he possess any mental excellence, any

knowledge or art or experience, which can be rendered available, than

he comes eagerly forward with it to extort praise or reward from the

community by conferring benefits upon it. The examples of reserve in

this matter are few, nor, in fact, are they to be commended who in

this or in any thing else hide their light under a bushel; and

therefore Plato is wrong when he teaches that wise men will as a rule

abstain from intermeddling with state affairs, unless constrained

thereto by fines and menaces. He confesses, indeed, that the worst of

all punishments is to be governed by evil men, and that to avoid this

even philosophers will consent to hold the reins of government.[806]

But where they do not, they are always in free states the masters of

those who do. Their schools were the colleges and universities of the

ancient world, and so long as freedom endured the great object of

their philosophy was to create able citizens and a happy state. On

this account their remains are still instinct with life. Their object

was gradually to ripen human nature into perfection by perfecting its

education and its institutions. They knew how completely a people is

in the power of its teachers for good or for evil, and accordingly,

with some few exceptions, applied themselves to elevate the

conceptions, the moral tone, the feelings of their countrymen, seldom

descending to trifling disquisitions excepting for relaxation in the

intervals of more important inquiries.

Footnote 806:

Repub. i. t. vi. p. 42. seq. Bekk.

The physical sciences,[807] save in the case of their earliest

cultivators, were regarded as simple handmaids to ethics and politics.

Nevertheless, in the study of them much earnestness was exhibited.

For, where knowledge is at all held in honour, men will always be

found sufficiently prone to the palpable and visible. But even these

pursuits assumed a peculiar form in Greece. The genius of the nation,

essentially creative, developed its force and its peculiar energy in

framing systems of physics, explaining the origin of the world, the

birth of the human race, its early fortunes and fabulous history.

Every great philosopher became, like an intellectual sun, the centre

of a system of physics, and his disciples like satellites revolved

around him, receiving and reflecting his light. This, despite of some

inconveniences, was highly favourable to science. It compelled men to

the study of the philosophical art of attack and defence. Each school

became the reviewers and critics of its rivals, sought out their weak

points, studied them profoundly, called up all its acuteness, all its

subtlety, both to assault others and defend itself; and thus, whatever

became of the system, the professors of it carried, as far as might be

towards perfection, their intellectual powers, invested their

reasonings with every grace of which they were susceptible, culled

from the most recondite arts and hidden resources of style and

eloquence.

Footnote 807:

Vid. Athen. ii. 18.—That geography entered but very little into

their studies may be inferred from Thucydides, vii. 1.

But, while this golden currency was circulating through Greece,

enriching its mind and augmenting its chances of independence and

happiness, a race of men sprang up, who brought into use a number of

ingenious and beautiful counters,—I mean the sophists.[808] The

influence of these men in the education of the Greeks has seldom been

correctly appreciated. It has been more common to vituperate than to

study them. They corrupted, we are told, the mind and manners of

youth. But how? No one, as far as I know, has observed that to them is

to be traced the extinction of the republican spirit and the opening

of a way for despotism.[809] That they created the yearning after

innovation I will not affirm; but their epoch constituted a period of

transition from republican to monarchical institutions, and the only

way in which they can be said to have corrupted the youth was by

undermining that love of liberty and of country, the feeling of

disinterestedness on which chiefly a commonwealth must be founded, and

inculcating in lieu thereof a system of ethics more in conformity with

the modifications of civil polity prevalent in modern times. In this

way only did they corrupt and undermine the morals of their country.

But in so far they effected it, and that the more easily, in that

circumstances conspired, about the time they arose, to fling the whole

business of teaching into their hands, insomuch that to be a sophist,

and to teach youth, grew to be synonymous terms.[810]

Footnote 808:

Vid. Herod. i. 29. And Cf. Schœll. Hist. de la Lit. Grecq. ii. 134.

Isoc. de Perm. § 26. Muret. in Arist. Ethic. p. 477. Menag. ad Diog.

Laert. p. 5. a. b. &c.

Footnote 809:

Hobbes, the great representative of this class of men in modern

times, living under the despotism of the Stuarts, sought to turn the

tables upon the philosophers, and accused them of corrupting the

minds of youth. “As to rebellion, in particular against monarchy,

one of the most frequent causes of it is the reading of the books of

policy and histories of the ancient Greeks and Romans; from which

young men, and all others that are unprovided of the antidote of

solid reason, receiving a strong and delightful impression of the

great exploits of war, achieved by the conductors of their armies,

receive withal a pleasing idea of all they have done besides; and

imagine their great prosperity not to have proceeded from the

emulation of particular men, but from the virtue of their popular

form of government.”—Leviathan, pt. ii. c. 29. vol. iii. p.

315.—Edition of Sir William Molesworth.

Footnote 810:

Poll. iv. 17.

They were themselves, however, but a corruption of what in its origin

was good, and always continued in the opinion of the undiscerning to

be confounded with the men they aped.[811] Whether we have sophists

among us at the present day, I will not determine; but this is the way

they arose in Greece. It was soon discovered by shrewd and calculating

men, that since philosophy excited much admiration and rendered its

teachers objects of mark and reverence, it might by a little ingenuity

be converted into a source of profit.[812] But by what means?—The

philosophers at the outset were in possession of the popular ear, more

through the sanctity of their lives, of which all could judge, than

through their doctrines, necessarily comprehended in their fullest

extent by few. They despaired, therefore, of the people. There

existed, however, in Greece, and will ever exist in free states, young

men of immeasurable ambition, who, impatient of the restraint of laws,

would gladly cast them off, seize the reins of government, and become

the tyrants of their country. The mere conception of such a design

implies the possession of wealth and powerful friends. Eager for any

help they enthusiastically welcomed all who seemed capable of

promoting their views, and when the sophists appeared, enriched with a

variety of knowledge, specious, eloquent, unscrupulous, they eagerly

threw themselves into their arms, became their pupils, and in

conjunction with them framed the subjugation of Greece.

Footnote 811:

Plat. de Rep. t. vi. p. 286. seq. Cf. Schol. Aristoph. Nub. 331.

Footnote 812:

That money was the sole object of the sophists is observed by

Isocrates, Hel. Encom. § 4. Elsewhere, with a stroke of sly humour

not usual with him, he says, they would sell anything short of

immortality for three or four minæ.—Cont. Sophist. § 3, p. 576. See

on the whole subject of the Sophists, Hard. Dissert. v. Bibl. Acad.

t. iii. p. 240. sqq. Muret. in Arist. Ethic. p. 533. Cressol. Theat.

Rhet. v. iii. p. 447.

In tracing this class of men to their origin, we must look back a

great way, and endeavour to detect them, under a variety of forms,

different from that in which they ultimately settled. They arose with

the first philosophers, or the first poet who made self the centre of

his researches, and sought to render the investigation of science a

means of personal aggrandisement. Protagoras describes in Plato the

rise of his own art; where, though a side blow be wrongfully aimed at

poetry itself, the truth of the accusation against a number of poets

cannot be denied. He makes good at the very outset what I have

asserted above. They travelled, he says, over all Greece, alluring the

noblest youths to abandon the company of their friends and

fellow-citizens, to become their pupils, and be guided wholly by their

maxims, the nature of which I shall presently unfold. The feelings

they thus excited, he denominates envy and malevolence, though in

truth it was nothing more than that patriotic and parental jealousy

and hatred experienced by the good when they behold those they love

led astray. The better to escape this hostility, the ancient sophists

adopted various disguises, sometimes enveloping their art in the folds

of poetry as Homer, Hesiod, and Simonides, on other occasions

affecting to be the interpreters of foreign rites and oracles, as

Orpheus and Musæus; while a third class concealed the features of

their art under the less suspected mask of gymnastics, such as Iccos

of Tarentum, and that Herodicos of Silymbria a man of Megarean origin

who in the art of sophistry was second to none of his age.

Occasionally they made their entrance into cities as professors of

music. In this capacity Damon conversed with Pericles, and Agathocles,

an Athenian by birth, diffused through the state the seeds of

sophistry; Pythocleides, too, the Coan, pursued the same course; and

thus a youth, while ostensibly engaged in gaining a proficiency on the

lyre or cithara, was initiated in the mysteries of tyranny, irreligion

and injustice.[813]

Footnote 813:

Plat. Protag. t. i. p. 163. seq. Bekk.

By degrees, however, it was discovered that all disguise might be very

safely laid aside.[814] In fact the object at first aimed at,—to

escape the notice of men in power,—was found impracticable; and as to

the people, against whom all these shafts were directed, it was easy

to delude them, since what their leaders recommended they praised.

Protagoras, accordingly, boldly professed himself a sophist, trusting

for safety to his eloquence, and that growing laxity of manners which

was rapidly undermining the old republican constitution and preparing

the way for a new order of things. His candour was praiseworthy, but

lamentable were the circumstances which rendered it safe.

Footnote 814:

At a late period, by a decree of Sophocles, the sophists were driven

out of Attica.—Athen. xiii. 92. Cf. Cressol. Theat. Rhet. i. 12. p.

87.

I would not, however, be understood to share the opinions of those,

who can discern nothing but evil in the doctrines of the sophists. On

many points their notions harmonised altogether with those of the

wisest philosophers. Accordingly it was not precisely what they

inculcated, but the principles which regulated their teaching, that

rendered them sophists. They taught with a view to enrich themselves,

which is wholly incompatible with a strict allegiance to truth; since,

with such views, men will always be found to prophesy agreeably in

order that they may effect their purpose.

This circumstance has not been sufficiently considered by the writers

who undertake their apology. They compare them with the literary men

of modern times, and imagine this comparison a defence. But does it

not rather substantiate the accusation? It is true that, like modern

literary men, they haunted the houses of the great, whom they regarded

as their patrons; that to them, rather than to the people, they looked

for support; that, like them, they worshipped wealth and abhorred

poverty; that their studies, their discourses, their writings,

diffused far and wide through society a taste for arts and elegance;

that they furnished the public in their declamations, satires, novels,

of which they were the inventors, with inexhaustible sources of

amusement:—but what virtue did they inculcate? On whom did they urge

the necessity of sacrificing private to public good? On what occasion

did they dare to stem the torrent of immorality, of impiety, of

unpatriotic maxims, which the base and the selfish were pouring forth

against the old bulwarks of freedom? That among them there were men of

a very high order of genius, it is impossible to deny. Gorgias of

Leontium, from whose name we have borrowed an epithet to express

whatever is most glorious in nature or dazzling and elaborate in art,

Protagoras, Prodicos, Hippias of Elis, Polos of Agrigentum,

Thrasymachos of Chalcedon, have left behind them an imperishable

memory;[815] but so have Busiris and Phalaris and Catiline. They are

remembered for the good they might have done, and the evil they did.

Footnote 815:

Muretus considers the word sophist to be synonymous with a teacher

of eloquence: “Sophista, id est, dicendi magister;” and, speaking of

this same Thrasymachos, cites a passage from Cicero which attributes

to him the invention of the rhetorical style. Orat. § 12. Suidas

regards Thrasymachos as the first who made use of the period and the

colon; and supposes him to have been pupil to Plato and Isocrates,

whereas he preceded both.—Muret. Comm. p. 631. seq.

Since, however, the sophists acted so important a part in the

education of the Greeks, the space I devote to them is clearly their

due: it is necessary to the thorough comprehension of the subject.

Almost from the moment they arose they aimed at a monopoly of the art

of teaching, and the father of the art, properly so called, was

Gorgias. Few names of antiquity, as Geel[816] has well observed, are

better known or more celebrated than that of this distinguished

sophist, among the causes of whose amazing popularity must be reckoned

the number of great men whom he instructed in eloquence, and the

splendid vices of style which his example and precept brought into

vogue. The exact date of his birth is not known:[817] he is, however,

supposed to have been born at Leontium in Sicily, about the

seventy-third Olympiad. His father’s name was Charmantes.[818] Nearly

all the particulars of his early life are unknown, the ancients having

been as much too negligent as we are too lavish of biographical

details. Under whom he studied, with whom he conversed, how much he

owed to others, and how much to his own genius and industry, are

points not easy to be determined, though we cannot adopt the opinion

of Ælian,[819] who sends him to school to Philolaos; or of Diogenes

Laertius, who will have Empedocles to have been his teacher, since the

latter was very little older than himself, and the former much

younger. Empedocles is indeed said to have invented the art of

rhetoric, in which case we might suppose Gorgias to have been his

scholar. But how invented? He may have been the first who sought to

reduce it into an art, or who so called it; but as Aristotle observes,

every man who reasons persuasively is a rhetorician, whether his

eloquence be based on the formal study of the art or not. In

philosophy, indeed, he would seem[820] to have been the disciple of

Empedocles; but in rhetoric they both very probably derived

instruction from Corax and Tisias, who flourished and taught rhetoric

in Sicily about the period of their youth.[821]

Footnote 816:

Hist. Sophist. p. 13.

Footnote 817:

Clinton, Fast. Hellen. ii. 28. 65. 67. Geel (Hist. Sophist. p. 14)

assumes the seventieth Olympiad as the date of his birth; but as it

seems to result from the text of Pausanias that he was still living

in 380. B.C. this would extend the duration of his life beyond that

assigned to it by any ancient writer.

Footnote 818:

Of whom, as Muretus (Comm. p. 631. seq.) observes, no mention occurs

save in Plato de Repub. i. § 2. t. i. p. 8. Stallb.

Footnote 819:

Var. Hist. i. 23. Diog. Laert. viii. 58.—Mr. Clinton, however,

adopts the opinion of Diogenes (Fast. Hell. ii. 365); and, to render

it probable, supposes Empedocles to have been a few years older than

his pupil.

Footnote 820:

Plat. Men. p. 14. g.

Footnote 821:

Cic. Brut. § 12. Geel, Hist. Sophist. p. 15. seq. Sext. Empir. p.

306. seq.

These, however, are mere conjectures. He would probably have died in

obscurity, and been forgotten with the kings who reigned _ante

Agamemnona_, had not the misfortunes of his country brought him, in

old age, to the great workshop of Fame. The immediate occasion was

this; the people of Leontium having engaged and been worsted in war by

the Syracusans, sent ambassadors to demand succour of the Athenian

people, and among these the principal speaker was Gorgias. Practised

in a style of oratory new at Athens, indulging in a profusion of

metaphors and other figures bordering on the licences of poetry, he

immediately hurried away captive his hearers, fulfilled the desires of

his fellow citizens, and established for himself a reputation[822]

where all men most desired to possess one. To augment his glory it has

not been unusual to enumerate Pericles and Thucydides among those who

became his scholars. But this embassy took place in the fifth year of

the Peloponnesian war when Pericles had been dead two years. That

Thucydides heard him, however, is not at all improbable, since his

exile did not take place[823] till the eighth year of the war. Among

his admirers are mentioned two other men, whose principles and history

afford the best illustration of what fruit the teaching of the

sophists was likely to produce,—Critias and Alcibiades, whose ability,

courage, and profligacy rendered them the scourges of their country.

It has been with great probability supposed that, having on his return

to Leontium rendered an account of his mission, he quitted Sicily for

ever, for the purpose of becoming a professor of eloquence in Greece.

This is Diodorus’s account, but the Scholiast on Hermogenes supposes

him to have remained at Athens. Whether this was the case or not, he

soon considered one city, however great or celebrated, too confined a

theatre for the display of his merit. He, therefore, adopted the

profession of an itinerant lecturer, with the double view of

gratifying his vanity and filling his purse. And he thoroughly

understood the art of dazzling mankind, for, not supposing it enough

to unfold before his auditors his magazines of tropes and figures,

stored up, like theatrical thunder and lightning, to be introduced at

the proper moment, he had recourse to other dramatic arts for

producing effect, appearing in magnificent attire, flowing purple

robes, embroidered sandals, his fingers sparkling with gold and gems.

But though the oldest of the sophists, he was not the first who

adopted this course. Protagoras, and perhaps others, had previously

commenced their peregrinations, and begun to practise on the credulity

and weakness of the multitude. Among the Athenians they were paid

chiefly with praise; “the solid pudding” was to be sought elsewhere.

And accordingly we find, as Plato sarcastically expresses it, that

upon the advent of the sophists, the Thessalians, usually celebrated

for their full purses and fine horses,[824] grew all at once

remarkable for their love of wisdom, that is, paid the sophists

handsomely, in the hope of thus enticing knowledge to remain among

them. In fact they supposed that wisdom is like a candle and lantern,

by which you may have light,—or a saint’s shirt, by wearing which you

infallibly become holy,—or the lamp of Epictetus, which a rich man

bought at three thousand drachmas, in the hope that it would light him

into the very adyta of philosophy. However this may be, it is very

certain that the Thessalians became the patrons of the sophists, who

disposed in that country of more wisdom and eloquence than in any

other part of Greece, and the principal purchasers of it were of the

rich family of the Aleuadæ, the earliest Mæcenases, I believe, on

record.

Footnote 822:

Diod. Sicul. xii. 53.

Footnote 823:

I cannot, therefore, see the reason of Geel’s doubt.—Hist. Sophist.

p. 18. Cf. Clint. Fast. Hellen. ii. p. 68.

Footnote 824:

Plat. Hip. Maj. t. v. p. 416.

But the sophists, to their credit be it acknowledged, were no misers.

What they easily gained they spent freely; and not merely so, but in

many instances converted the effects of their personal vanity into

public ornaments of the whole country. Thus Gorgias, enriched by the

spoils of Thessaly, erected at Delphi a golden statue[825] of himself,

which argued a more generous spirit than he would have shown by

setting it afloat in the channels of trade or husbandry or usury, in

the hope of rendering himself a great capitalist.

Footnote 825:

Cressol. Theat. Rhet. i. 8.

Gorgias was long absent from Athens, and visited during his travels

the most considerable cities of Greece. Among other places he came to

Delphi, where from the steps of the altar, probably during the games,

he delivered that oration called the Pythian, in celebration of which

he erected the above-mentioned statue.[826] From thence perhaps,—for

the chronology of his journey is not exactly known,—he proceeded to

Olympia, where he also assisted at the games for the purpose of

exhibiting his oratorical talents in the presence of all Greece, and

reaping as it were in an hour a harvest of glory. This declamation,

delivered during the Peloponnesian war, had at least the

recommendation of being patriotic. Standing in front of the temple of

Zeus, the god of concord and of peace, he earnestly recommended union

and harmony.[827] If war they must have, there were the

barbarians,—let their arms be turned against them. With what success

he spoke, history has informed us; but the satirists of antiquity,

ever naturally addicted to scandal, are careful to remark that this

great advocate of concord and unanimity kept up a civil war in his own

house, where the charms of some beautiful-cheeked θεραπαινίδιον[828]

excited the jealousy of Madame. At the same time the old gentleman, to

adopt the most moderate computation, must have been hard upon

three-score and ten, though some would make him eighty.

Footnote 826:

Geel, Hist. Sophist. p. 23.

Footnote 827:

They sometimes selected more humble subjects for their panegyric,

for example, the bumble-bee, or salt.—Isocrat. Hel. Encom. § 4. p.

461. Plutarch, too, speaks of a learned work on salt, which he

considered very edifying.—Sympos. § 5. A French author of the same

class devoted twenty years of his life to a treatise on the

nightingale. Another member of this confraternity is celebrated by

Rousseau:—“On dit qu’un allemand a fait un livre sur un zeste de

citron; j’en aurais fait un sur chaque gramen des prés, sur chaque

mousse des bois, sur chaque lichen qui tapisse les rochers; enfin,

je ne voulais pas laisser un poil d’herbe, pas un atome végétal qui

ne fût amplement décrit.”—Réveries, t. iii. p. 106. On the verbal

trifling of the sophists see Muret. in Aristot. Ethic. p. 79. By Le

Conte, in his Commentary on the Anabasis, Gorgias is transformed

into “a prudent and experienced officer,” because Proxenos is said

to have studied under him.—t. i. p. 246.

Footnote 828:

Plut. Conj. Præcept. § 43. whom Geel follows.—Hist. Sophist. p. 25.

But Isocrates, who had been himself a hearer of Gorgias in Thessaly

(Cic. Orat. § 22), relates that he was never married, and had no

children.—De Permut. § 26. 10. Another tradition however speaks of

his son Philip as having been condemned by the Heliasts.—Schol.

Aristoph. Av. 1700.

Over the latter days of Gorgias[829] hovers the same darkness which

conceals from view the commencement. It is known with no degree of

certainty where he spent the close of his long life or where he died,

though as no account exists of his return to Sicily, it probably was

in Greece.

Footnote 829:

See Athen. xii. 71.

Next to Gorgias in reputation was Protagoras, whose history is still

less known. In the opinion of some writers he was the oldest of the

sophists. Though the date of his birth be later than that of Gorgias,

he preceded him in the profession of the art. He was certainly, I

think, born much earlier than is supposed either by Clinton or by

Geel, who take him to have been almost exactly of Socrates’ age, that

is to have come into the world about 479 B. C. But in this opinion I

cannot concur. It is in direct contradiction with a passage in

Plato[830] who, however careless in matters of chronology, would, I am

persuaded, never push his negligence so far as to make one man say to

another, born in the same year with himself, that he was old enough to

be his father. To me, therefore it appears necessary that we throw

back ten or twelve years the date of his birth. He was ten years, it

is admitted, older than Democritos. The latter, who had made

considerable progress in philosophy when he saw Protagoras in the

capacity of a wood-carrier and undertook to initiate him in his

system, could hardly have been less than seven or eight and twenty, so

that the former was little short of forty. He exercised the profession

of sophist during forty years, and died about 406 B. C. He must

therefore have been born about 484–485 B. C.[831]

Footnote 830:

Addressing Socrates, among many others, he says in one place, ἀλλὰ

πότερον ὑμῖν, ὡς πρεσβύτερος νεωτέροις, μῦθον λέγων ἐπιδείξω. κ. τ.

λ.—Protag. i. 170. But this is nothing to what he elsewhere says:

οὐδενὸς ὅτου οὐ πάντων ἂν ὑμῶν καθ᾽ ἡλικίαν πατὴρ εἴην.—Id. p.

165.—which without extreme absurdity a man could not say to a person

exactly of his own age. Meiners. (Hist. des Arts et des Sciences,

iii. 258), evidently refers to this passage; as does also Hardion.

Dissert. vii. Bib. Acad. iii. 295. Yet it must have wholly escaped

Geel, who (Hist. Sophist. p. 71) says: “Deinde _nescimus_ quomodo

efficiatur e Platonis Protagorâ, sophistam ejusdem nominis _multo_

majorem fuisse Socrate.”

Footnote 831:

Diog. Laert. ix. 55. observes that, according to some writers, he

died, at the age of 90, during a journey.—Geel, p. 81. It is

sufficiently remarkable that most of the Sophists attained to a very

great old age, and the same thing may be said generally of the

philosophers of antiquity. Lord Bacon undertakes to account for the

fact. Having given the palm of long life to hermits and anchorites,

he says: “Next unto this is a life led in good letters, such as was

that of Philosophers, Rhetoricians, Grammarians. This life is also

led in leisure, and in those thoughts which, seeing they are severed

from the affairs of the world, bite not, but rather delight through

their vanity and impertinency: they live also at their pleasure,

spending their time in such things as like them best, and for the

most part in the company of young men, which is ever the most

cheerful.”—History of Life and Death, p. 24.

But I cannot here pursue the history of the sophists, which no further

belongs to my work than as it is connected with the subject of

education. On their writings, however, and manner of teaching it is

necessary that I should be more explicit. Whether Gorgias first

published or Protagoras is of little moment; both evidently wrote with

the same aim, which was to confound truth and error, right and wrong,

not perhaps through any enmity to truth or to virtue, but from the

sheer vanity of being thought capable of any thing, and the desire of

converting their talents to account. One distinguishing quality of the

class was fertility. They piqued themselves on being able to pour

forth volume after volume, treatise after treatise, speech after

speech. This, indeed, it was that constituted their principal claim to

superiority over the philosophers, a pains-taking race, among whom the

period of intellectual gestation was longer than that of the elephant;

whereas your true sophist, without meditation, study or experience,

astonished his admirers by the copiousness of his invention, by

imagery, gorgeous and glittering, generally stolen from the poets, and

by a piquant air of profoundness and originality, which the art of

seeming to doubt all that other men believe never fails to confer.

Besides, comprehending enough of human nature to know that whoever

amuses is listened to, whatever atrocities he may utter, they were

careful to invest their doctrine with a light and graceful exterior.

No man ever excelled them at a joke. They in fact managed matters so

that in their hands every thing became a joke, and to overthrow an

antagonist demanded nothing more than to be able to raise a laugh at

his expense; for, all the world over, in the opinion of the vulgar,

whoever is ridiculous is wrong. From calculation, they eschewed the

uphill task of correcting error, or advancing truth, or reforming

manners. To upbraid men for their faults and counsel amendment, is to

incur their enmity. Reformers, prophets, apostles of truth have always

been persecuted, often put to death. The sophists felt no ambition to

be martyrs. Poverty, too, and obscurity, spare diet, a coarse mantle,

and the solitude in which the poor great man walks the world, they

could not away with. To their happiness crowds of admirers, opulence,

costly robes[832] and all the refinements of luxury formed a _sine quâ

non_; and accordingly in the choice of their doctrines they were

guided by one consideration only, viz. how they might amuse mankind,

and reap all the advantages of popularity.

Footnote 832:

Herault de Sechelles, who, had he lived, would have excelled Boswell

in biography, describes with singular felicity the passion of that

arch-sophist, Buffon, for the splendours of dress. Even among the

peasants of Montbar, a race of primitive simplicity, the French

Hippias would never appear but in an embroidered suit, curled and

decorated as if at court. He had nicely calculated the effect of

external appearances on the mind; and we must forgive him, since he

shared the weakness with Lord Bacon and Aristotle.—See Voyage à

Montbar, p. 42, seq.

The eloquence which statesmen employed to recommend their measures,

the sophists applied to fictitious uses, imagining themselves in

impossible circumstances, reversing times, confounding manners, and

attacking or defending men long since dead. In all such cases the

interest would chiefly depend on the novelty or ingenuity of the

thoughts and the subtle artifices of style. Hence the extravagance,

the coldness, the perversion of imagery, the distortion and monkey

tricks of language, for which their manner of compositions became

remarkable. The false position they took up led, in philosophy, to

results equally disastrous. To aim at truth, would have been to throw

themselves into the wake of the philosophers, to share, without

worldly compensation, their dangers, labours, and comparative

insignificance. They struck out, therefore, a new course for

themselves. Taking philosophy as it was, they undertook to dispute on

all and every part of it; to show that for a skilful dialectician

there was no proposition that might not with nearly equal facility be

attacked or defended; that by means of syllogisms or enthymemes,

artfully arranged, darkness may be proved to be light, and light

darkness; that between lying and speaking the truth there is no

difference; that in fact both veracity and falsehood are nonentities,

all our notions being mere arbitrary fictions; and that to beat your

dog and to beat your father is the same thing.

Of this novel and ingenious style of argumentation,[833] in which

Hudibras was an adept, we are furnished with abundant examples by

Plato, more especially in the Euthydemus, where two old fellows, with

arguments longer than their beards, luxuriate in the felicitous

inventions by which, like another Circe, they are enabled to transform

their hearers into hogs and bulldogs. In humorous extravagance the

dialogue scarcely falls short of an Aristophanic comedy or a Christmas

pantomime. Socrates[834] plays the Clown, Ctesippos the Harlequin, and

the blows dealt upon the magicians in the course of the piece, are

such as, were they fully comprehended, would set all Drury Lane or

Covent Garden in a roar. But the length of the scenes prevents their

transplantation into my pages, and the abridgment of a joke is a very

dull thing. Let us, however, hear by what logic they proved Socrates

to have been a second “man without a navel.”

Footnote 833:

Another example may be found in Athen. iii. 54.

Footnote 834:

Socrates has been confounded with the Sophists, because he

frequented their company to refute them; but there was between them

the same difference, as between a thief-taker and a thief.

“Answer me,” cried Dionysidoros.

“Well then,” replied Socrates, “I answer that Iolaus was the nephew of

Heracles, and, as far as I can see, no nephew of mine. For my brother

Patrocles was not his father, but quite another guess sort of person,

Iphicles the brother of Heracles.”

“And Patrocles was your brother?”

“By the mother, not by the father.”

“Then he was your brother, and not your brother?”

“By the father’s side he was not,” answered Socrates, “since he was

the son of Charidemos, and I of Sophroniscos.”

“But Sophroniscos, no less than Charidemos, was a father.”

“Exactly; the former was my father, the latter Patrocles’.”

“Then was Charidemos other than a father?”

“He was other than mine.”

“Then he was a father, and not a father? But, come, are you the same

thing as a stone?”

“I fear,” replied Socrates, “I shall appear to be no better in your

hands, though I do not discover the identity.”

“Well, being other than a stone, you are not a stone; being other than

gold, you are not gold. And must not the same thing happen to

Charidemos? Being something else than a father, he is not a father.”

“So it seems,” replied the philosopher.

“And what is true of Charidemos,” replied the younger sophist, “must

be true of Sophroniscos. Being other than a father, he is not a

father: from which, my good friend, it follows that you never had any

father at all![835]”

Footnote 835:

Plat. Opp. iii. 444, seq.

Socrates being thus placed on a level with the first man, his friend

Ctesippos took up the ball, and sent it with so much force into the

face of the sophists, that it somewhat startled them.

“Come, then,” said he, “is not your own father in precisely the same

circumstances? Is he not different from my father?”

“Not at all,” answered Euthydemos.

“What, then, he is the same?”

“Exactly.”

“I should be sorry to think so. However, is he my father only, or is

he everybody else’s father?”

“Everybody’s, of course; for can you imagine him to be a father, and

not a father?”

“I should have thought so,” answered Ctesippos.

“What! that gold is not gold, and that a man is not a man?”

“Not so, friend Euthydemos; but you do not, as the saying is, mingle

flax with flax; and your assertion, that your father is the father of

all men, seems very extraordinary.”

“But he is, though.”

“Very good; but is he not only the father of men but of horses and

every other animal?”

“Of everything!”

“And your mother, in like manner, is the mother of all things?”

“Certainly.”

“Then she is the mother of the sea-hedgehog.”

“And so is yours!”

“And you are the full brother of gudgeons, cubs, and sucking-pigs.”

“So are you!”

“And your father is a dog.”

“And yours, too!”

It was now evident they were in anger, and accordingly Dionysidoros

interposed, and observed jocularly,—

“Provided you will answer me, Ctesippos, I undertake to make you

confess that your father is just what my brother has said. So, tell

me, have you a dog?”

“I have, and a snappish cur he is, too.”

“And has he young ones?”

“Ay, and they are more snappish than himself.”

“Well, now, is not the dog their father?”

“No doubt.”

“And the dog is yours?”

“Certainly.”

“It follows then, if he be a father and yours, that he must be your

father; so that his cubs are your brothers.”

Before the young man could reply to this compliment the sophist

proceeded:

“Answer me, Ctesippos, a little longer. Do you ever beat that dog?”

“That I do,” replied Ctesippos laughing; “and I wish I could

administer the same discipline to you in your turn.”

“Then you beat your own father!”

“The beating,” answered the young man, “would be more justly inflicted

on yours, for having knowingly let loose two such sages upon

mankind!”[836]

Footnote 836:

Plat. Opp. t. iii. p. 245.—The amusing manner of teaching introduced

by these sophists was sometimes imitated by the philosophers. Thus

Theophrastus, who, before proceeding to his school, used to anoint

himself with oil and perform his exercises, had recourse to

extraordinary drollery for the purpose of charming his pupils,

adapting all his gestures and movements to his discourses; so that

when describing the manners and character of a glutton, he used,

like a comic actor, to thrust out his tongue and lick his

lips.—Athen. i. 38.

But these, after all, were but laughing sophists, who, though they had

succeeded in confounding and obliterating from their own minds every

trace of difference between right and wrong, fell short of that superb

degree of wickedness at which Polos, Callicles, and Thrasymachos

arrived, at least in speculation. The former were mere babblers, who

corrupted a pupil or two whom bad luck threw in their way.

Thrasymachos flew at higher game. His sophistry was political,[837]

and his aim the destruction of freedom, by extinguishing that sense of

justice on which it must ever be based. The genius of the man was

considerable. He had deep thoughts, and investigated boldly; but his

sympathies having somehow been early perverted, he grew sombre,

fierce, and unsociable, and without the slightest disguise advocated,

like our Hobbes,[838] tyrannical maxims and morals. Money, like the

rest, he of course worshipped. Nay, in the conversation at the house

of Cephalos he even ventures to sneer rudely at Socrates’ poverty;

upon which Glaucon[839] observes:—"Don’t fear to go unpaid for the

instruction you may give him, for we will enter into a subscription on

his behalf."[840] Thrasymachos, however, was still more vain than

avaricious. He thirsted to exhibit his notions in order to enjoy the

satisfaction arising from shocking those who heard him. He maintained

that justice is nothing more than what in any state the rulers think

proper to establish; and that, consequently, the ordinances of a

tyrant are as binding and as just as the laws of a free state, since

by nature all actions are indifferent.

Footnote 837:

Cf. Dem. Lacrit. § 10. Sch. Aristoph. Nub. 113.

Footnote 838:

The modern Thrasymachos is as frank in his hatred of philosophers as

the ancient. He compares their enthusiasm in favour of freedom to

the virus imparted by the bite of a mad dog, imagining that nothing

is so sedulously to be guarded against as liberty. He would, if

possible, have the study of ancient statesmen and historians

prohibited, or at least that care should be taken to counteract

their maxims by the teaching of discreet sophists. “I cannot

imagine,” he says, “how anything can be more prejudicial to a

monarchy than the allowing of such books to be publicly read,

without present applying such correctives of discreet masters, as

are fit to take away their venom; which venom I will not doubt to

compare to the biting of a mad dog, which is a disease the

physicians call _hydrophobia_, or _fear of water_. For, as he that

is so bitten has a continual torment of thirst, and yet abhorreth

water, and is in such an estate, as if the poison endeavoured to

convert him into a dog; so, when a monarchy is once bitten to the

quick, by those democratical writers, that continually snarl at that

estate, it wanteth nothing more than a strong monarch, which,

nevertheless, out of a certain _tyrannophobia_ or fear of being

strongly governed, when they have him, they abhor.”—Leviathan, Pt.

ii. c. 29. iii. 315. Count Capo D’Istrias, if he was ignorant of the

language of ancient Greece, appears at least to have understood

something of the spirit of ancient philosophy, for, designing to

establish a tyranny, he prohibited the reading of Plato in the

public schools. He may possibly have learned his maxims of

government from Hobbes, as well as that the master of the academy

deserved his hatred.—Thiersch. Etat. Act. de la Grèce, ii. 121.

Footnote 839:

Plat. Rep. i. § 11. t. i. p. 41. Stallb.

Footnote 840:

Ἔρανος. Cf. Sympos. t. iv. p. 379. Bekk.

It was, in fact, a part of the sophistical doctrine, to maintain in

politics, what Hobbes afterwards advocated, the right of the

stronger:—

—--"The good old rule, the simple plan,

That they should take who have the power,

And they should keep who can."

But because there is in every man’s heart a rooted prejudice in favour

of justice, they were fain to argue that all governors, in as far as

they deserved the name, would ordain what was best for themselves, and

that, whatever it might be, was just:[841] a very satisfactory

doctrine, which has never grown wholly out of fashion. They laughed to

scorn, as persons who required nurses to look after them and wipe

their noses,[842] whomsoever they found entertaining the notion that

governments were instituted for the good of the governed.

Footnote 841:

Upon this point Father Paul observes:—"We must reduce under the

title of justice everything that may contribute to the service of

the state; for the prince has no greater justice than to preserve to

himself the quality of prince, and, in order to this, to keep his

subjects in a dutiful subjection to his authority."—Max. of the Gov.

of Venice, chap. i. § 1.

Footnote 842:

Plat. Rep. t. vi. p. 34.

Their staple comparison was always a flock or a herd. What shepherd,

they inquired, ever looked after his flock for their benefit, and not

for his own use? In like manner magistrates, who, as is proper, hold

the chief place in cities, look on the public exactly as if they are

so many sheep or oxen, and think of nothing, night or day, but how

they may derive most advantage from them. Justice, therefore, is what

promotes the interests of the governors, though it may be loss to the

governed. The man, esteemed just and pious and holy by the

philosopher, was merely, in their opinion, a fool. Whenever anything

is to be gained he gets less than any man, and when anything is to be

done for the community he does more. He is always ready with his purse

whenever anything is to be paid; always out of the way when gain is

afloat. The unjust man, on the contrary, knows what he is about. He

pays and does as little as possible for the public, and takes from it

all he can. The former renders himself disagreeable to his friends and

domestics, by refusing to commit any unjust action on their behalf.

The latter, on the other hand, unscrupulous in acquisition, is able to

oblige many by his wealth if he happens to require their services.

Thus even in private life and small matters injustice is to be

preferred; but when it operates on a grand scale, plunders whole

cities, and usurps over them supreme authority, it reaches the acme of

felicity, is saluted by the name of prince, and becomes an object of

envy to all mankind.

Nor did they pause even here. It was not enough to show the happiness

of vice as vice; they undertook to prove that vice is virtue and

virtue vice, which may be considered as their magnum opus. They went

to work boldly, but, like the fox of Archilochos,[843] always kept

something of their figure concealed, that, if any necessity arose,

they might be able to retreat by treating their whole chain of

argumentation as a mere rhetorical exercise. “You appear to be in

earnest,” observed Socrates on one occasion. “What does it signify to

you whether I am in earnest or not,” replied the sophist, “if you

cannot refute what I advance?” With this prudent reserve, they taught

that injustice is a powerful and beautiful principle, reckoning it

among the virtues, and attributing to it all the characteristics

usually attributed to justice.[844] Pascal, in developing the morals

of the Jesuits, describes their principles exactly. They patronised

even cutting purses, providing the operator had the ingenuity to

conceal his performance. No doubt, in thus arguing, they did violence

to their secret convictions, and might, by an able dialectician, be

made to feel, though never to acknowledge, the deformity of their

doctrines, as Thrasymachos, driven up in a corner by the logic of

Socrates, blushes and is chap-fallen;[845] but as sophistry was their

occupation, the misery and degradation was, that, convinced or not

convinced, they must still sing the old song. It is evident, in fact,

that, like many sophists of other days, they were bold with the lips

while the heart within trembled. The light of conscience could not be

wholly quenched. They conceived the gods to be armed with power and

disposed to exert it, not only against evil doers but against evil

speakers also. Pressed upon this point, whether the bad be not

obnoxious and the good agreeable to the deities, Thrasymachos would

not deny it. And why? Lest he should render himself hateful to them,

ἴνα μὴ τοῖς δὲ ἀπέχθωμαι. So that in the worst times of paganism,

religion, how corrupt soever, failed not to preserve some influence

over men’s minds, to save them from the bestial recklessness into

which they seemed desirous to plunge.[846]

Footnote 843:

Plat. Rep. t. vi. p. 72. Bekk.

Footnote 844:

Id. i. t. vi. p. 44. seq.

Footnote 845:

Plat. de Rep. vi. 49. i. 76. Stallb. Cf. Vict. Var. Lect. iii. v.

Footnote 846:

Plat. Rep. t. vi. p. 52.

Nevertheless, the sophists on many points did but methodise, condense

and embody in florid language the maxims and modes of thinking current

in corrupt ages among the vulgar. Their doctrines were but an echo of

what was heard in the ecclesiæ, in the law courts, in the theatres,

and in the camps. It would have been to little purpose, therefore, to

have silenced them, unless, at the same time, the above schools could

have been purified, wherein young and old, men and women, imbibed the

opinions, maxims, prejudices, which constituted the system of the

sophists.[847] And Plato, who observes this, supplies us, in doing so,

with a fresh proof that women frequented the theatre. In one of these

four places, he says, they were corrupted: but they were not soldiers,

and, therefore, not in the camp; they were not dicasts, and,

therefore, not in the law courts; they were neither orators nor

voters, and, therefore, not in the ecclesiæ. The evil doctrines they

imbibed, therefore, must have been imbibed at the theatre.[848] Here,

too, the youth, disciplined and principled in better things by his

philosophical teachers, received a new education which overthrew the

former. Deeds and words, condemned by his teachers, he often found to

be greeted here with rapturous applause, re-echoed by rocks and walls;

while hisses, sneers, or vociferous vituperation would, perhaps, be

showered on things he had been taught most to revere. In his feelings,

therefore, and internal convictions a revolution was soon effected. He

grew ashamed of the notions implanted in him at school. Every

lingering sentiment of honour seemed to him an unfortunate prejudice

despised by men of the world, and he hastened to shift his notions as

a clown does his dress to prepare for admittance into fashionable

company.

Footnote 847:

Id. vi. 290.

Footnote 848:

Plat. Rep. vi. t. vi. p. 289. Cf. Athen. ii. 54.

The sophists, skilled in the study of mankind, soon discovered, that

to please and ultimately to rule the ignorant, it was necessary to

humour their failings, and, in appearance at least, to adopt their

opinions. In a commonwealth, governed by wholesome principles, great

men obtain influence, not by resembling the majority but by

differing from them. They are popular by the authority of their

virtues. They are reverenced with the reverence due to a father from

his child, who confides in him from long experience in his love and

implicit faith in his honour, and will submit to be rebuked and

chastised, and determined by him in his actions from the conviction

that his superior wisdom and probity and affection entitle him to

rule. But the sophists, and their political disciples, despaired of

thus governing the people. In their manners there was none of the

dignity, in their minds none of the wisdom, in their resolutions

none of that inflexible firmness arising from consciousness of

right, which neither threats nor clamour can subdue. They regarded

the populace as a huge beast, whose ways and temper they must study,

whose passions and desires they must know how to raise and how to

satisfy; by what arts they might safely enter his den, stroke his

terrible paws, or mount, if they thought proper, on his back and

direct his irresistible might against their enemies. And this they

esteemed as wisdom, and upon those who excelled in it they bestowed

the name of statesmen and philosophers.[849] Among the arts by which

this influence was acquired were flattery and boasting; by the

former they disposed people to listen, by the latter they sought to

justify them for listening, by dwelling on the wonders they could

perform. If they might be believed, they could convert fools into

wise men, which philosophers regarded in the light of a miracle.

This disposition τὸ θρασὺ καὶ τὸ ἰταμὸν,[850] as Basilius expresses

it, is admirably painted by Plato in the character of Thrasymachos.

And the contrast afforded by Socrates makes good, as Muretus

observes, the wise remark of Thucydides ὅτι ἀμαθία μὲν θάρσος,

φρόνησις δ᾽ ὄκνον φέρει.

Footnote 849:

Plat. de Rep. vi. 293.

Footnote 850:

Plat. de Rep. vi. 333. Cf. Muret. Adnot. in Repub. p. 667, seq. 677,

seq.

Such, however, as they were, the reputation of the sophists spread far

and wide. Even among the barbarians of Asia a desire was felt to have

the ear tickled by their eloquence, as we may gather from the letter

of Amytocrates, an Indian king, to Antiochos, requesting him to ship

off for India as soon as possible, some boiled wine, dried figs, and a

sophist, observing that he would very willingly pay the price of him.

But Antiochos, either loth to part with so useful a servant of the

monarchy, or out of pity for the Indians, whom he suspected to be

already sufficiently tormented, replied, that as for boiled wine and

figs he might be supplied to his heart’s content, but that with

respect to sophists the law prohibited their exportation.[851] He had

all the while, however, without knowing it, abundant specimens of the

race in his own realms, where the Brahmins have, time out of mind,

cultivated and thriven by the same arts, and maintained the same

opinions, as conferred celebrity on the followers of Gorgias and

Protagoras. Their practices, indeed, as well as those of the Yoghis,

are in India modified by the state of society and public opinion. The

wonder which among the Greeks was excited by the advocacy of monstrous

doctrines, on the banks of the Ganges, arises out of physical pranks.

The Greek sophist tortured his mind, the Indian tortures his body for

the edification of the public, but the result is the same; the

practitioners thus contrive to subsist in idleness on the earnings of

the industrious and credulous.

Footnote 851:

Athen. xiv. 67.

The History of the Manners and Customs of Ancient Greece, Volume 1 (of 3) · 第 7 / 12 章