of sweetness; he is full of wit, yet too wayward.
_A._ Diogenes, when I come this way again, I will both see thee and
confer with thee.
_D._ Do.
We are told that the philosopher was seen one day carrying a lantern
through the streets of Athens: on being asked what he was looking
after, he answered, “I am seeking an honest man.” Thinking he had found
among the Spartans the greatest capacity for becoming such men as he
wished, he said, “Men, I have found nowhere, but children, at least,
I have seen in Lacedæmon.” Being asked, “What is the most dangerous
animal?” his answer was, “Among wild animals, the slanderer; among
tame, the flatterer.” He expired 323 B. C., at a great age, and, it
is said, on the same day that Alexander died. When he felt death
approaching, he seated himself on the road leading to Olympia, where he
died with philosophical calmness, in the presence of a great number of
people who were collected around him.
None of the works of Diogenes are extant; in these he maintained the
doctrines of the Cynics. He believed that exercise was of the greatest
importance, and capable of effecting everything. He held that there
were two kinds of exercise,—one of the body, and one of the mind,—and
that one was of little use without the other. By cultivation of the
mind, he did not mean the accumulation of knowledge or science, but a
training which might give it vigor, as exercise endows the body with
health and strength.
[Footnote 11: The Cynics were a sect of philosophers, founded by
Antisthenes, at Athens; they took their name from their disposition to
criticise the lives and actions of others. They were famous for their
contempt of riches, their neglect of dress, and the length of their
beards. They usually slept on the ground.]
[Illustration]
PLATO.
It has been remarked by Coleridge, that all men are born disciples
either of Plato or Aristotle: by which he means that these two great
men are the leaders in the two kinds of philosophy which govern the
thinking world,—the one looking into the soul, as the great well of
truth; the other, studying the outward world, and building up its
system upon facts collected by observation. The truth is doubtless to
be found by compounding the two systems.
Plato was born at Athens, in May, 429 B. C. He was the son of Ariston
and Perectonia. His original name was Aristocles, and it has been
conjectured that he received that of Plato, from the largeness of
his shoulders: this, however, is improbable, as Plato was then a
common name at Athens. Being one of the descendants of Codrus, and
the offspring of a noble, illustrious, and opulent family, he was
educated with the utmost care; his body was formed and invigorated with
gymnastic exercises, and his mind was cultivated and trained by the
study of poetry and of geometry; from which two sources he doubtless
derived that acuteness of judgment and warmth of imagination, which
stamped him as at once the most subtle and flowery writer of antiquity.
He first began his literary career by writing poems and tragedies; but
he was disgusted with his own productions, when, at the age of twenty,
he was introduced into the society of Socrates, and was qualified to
examine, with critical accuracy, the merit of his compositions, and
compare them with those of his poetical predecessors. He, therefore,
committed them to the flames. During eight years he continued to be one
of the pupils of Socrates; and though he was prevented by indisposition
from attending the philosopher’s last moments, he collected, from the
conversation of those that were present, and from his own accurate
observations, very minute and circumstantial accounts, which exhibit
the concern and sensibility of the pupil, and the firmness, virtue, and
elevated moral sentiments of the dying philosopher.
After the death of Socrates Plato retired from Athens, and, with a view
to emerge his stores of knowledge, he began to travel over different
countries. He visited Megara, Thebes, and Elis, where he met with the
kindest reception from his fellow-disciples, whom the violent death
of their master had likewise removed from Attica. He afterwards
visited Magna Græcia, attracted by the fame of the Pythagorean
philosophy, and by the learning, abilities, and reputation of its
professors, Philolaus, Archytas, and Eurytus. He then passed into
Sicily, and examined the eruptions of Etna. He visited Egypt, where the
mathematician Theodorus, then flourished, and where he knew that the
tenets of the Pythagorean philosophy had been fostered.
When he had finished his travels, Plato retired to the groves of
Academus, in the neighborhood of Athens, and established a school
there; his lectures were soon attended by a crowd of learned, noble,
and illustrious pupils; and the philosopher, by refusing to have a
share in the administration of political affairs, rendered his name
more famous and his school more frequented. During forty years he
presided at the head of the academy, and there he devoted his time to
the instruction of his pupils, and composed those dialogues which have
been the admiration of every succeeding age. His studies, however,
were interrupted for a while, as he felt it proper to comply with the
pressing invitations of Dionysius, of Syracuse, to visit him. The
philosopher earnestly but vainly endeavored to persuade the tyrant to
become the father of his people, and the friend of liberty.
In his dress, Plato was not ostentatious; his manners were elegant, but
modest, simple, and without affectation. The great honors which were
bestowed upon him, were not paid to his appearance, but to his wisdom
and virtue. In attending the Olympian games, he once took lodgings
with a family who were totally strangers to him. He ate and drank
with them, and partook of their innocent pleasures and amusements;
but though he told them his name was Plato, he did not speak of the
employment he pursued at Athens, and never introduced the name of that
great philosopher, whose doctrines he followed, and whose death and
virtues were favorite topics of conversation in every part of Greece.
When he returned to Athens, he was attended by the family which had
so kindly entertained him; and, being familiar with the city, he was
desired to show them the celebrated philosopher whose name he bore.
Their surprise may be imagined, when he told them that he was the Plato
whom they wished to behold.
In his diet he was moderate; and, indeed, to sobriety and temperance in
the use of food, and abstinence from those indulgences which enfeeble
the body and enervate the mind, some have attributed his preservation
during a terrible pestilence which raged in Athens at the beginning
of the Peloponnesian war. Plato was never subject to any long or
lingering indisposition; and, though change of climate had enfeebled a
constitution naturally strong and healthy, the philosopher lived to an
advanced age, and was often heard to say, when his physicians advised
him to leave his residence at Athens, where the air was impregnated by
the pestilence, that he would not advance one single step to gain the
top of Mount Athos, were he assured of attaining the longevity which
the inhabitants of that mountain were said to enjoy. Plato died on his
birth-day, in the eighty-first year of his age, about the year 348 B.
C. His last moments were easy, and without pain; and, according to
some authors, he expired in the midst of an entertainment; but Cicero
tells us that he died while in the act of writing.
The works of Plato are numerous; with the exception of twelve letters,
they are all written in the form of dialogue, in which Socrates is the
principal interlocutor. Thus he always speaks by the mouth of others,
and the philosopher has nowhere made mention of himself, except once
in his dialogue entitled Phædon, and another time in his Apology
for Socrates. His writings were so celebrated, and his opinions so
respected, that he was called divine; and for the elegance, melody, and
sweetness of his expressions, he was distinguished by the appellation
of the Athenian bee. His style, however, though commended and admired
by the most refined critics among the ancients, has not escaped the
censure of some of the moderns. It is obvious that the philosopher
cannot escape ridicule, who supposes that fire is a pyramid tied to
the earth by numbers; that the world is a figure consisting of twelve
pentagons; and who, to prove the metempsychosis and the immortality
of the soul, asserts that the dead are born from the living, and the
living from the dead. The speculative mind of Plato was employed in
examining things divine and human; and he attempted to ascertain and
fix not only the practical doctrines of morals and politics but the
more subtle and abstruse theory of mystical theogony—the origin of
the gods, or divine power. His philosophy was universally received and
adopted in ancient times, and it has not only governed the opinions of
the speculative part of mankind, but it continues still to influence
the reasoning, and to divide the sentiments of the moderns.
In his system of philosophy, he followed the physics of Heraclitus,
the metaphysical opinions of Pythagoras, and the morals of Socrates.
He maintained the existence of two beings—one self-existent, and the
other formed by the hand of a pre-existent, creative god and man. The
world, he maintained, was created by that self-existent cause, from the
rude, undigested mass of matter which had existed from all eternity,
and which had ever been animated by an irregular principle of motion.
The origin of evil could not be traced under the government of a deity,
without admitting a stubborn intractability and wildness congenial
to matter; and from these, consequently, could be demonstrated the
deviations from the laws of nature, and from thence, the extravagant
passions and appetites of men.
From materials like these were formed the four elements, and the
beautiful structure of the heavens and the earth; and into the active
but irrational principle of matter, the divinity infused a rational
soul. The souls of men were formed from the remainder of the rational
soul of the world, which had previously given existence to the
invisible gods and demons. The philosopher, therefore, supported the
doctrine of ideal forms, and the pre-existence of the human mind,
which he considered as emanations of the Deity, and which can never
remain satisfied with objects or things unworthy of their divine
original. Men could perceive, with their corporeal senses, the types of
immutable things, and the fluctuating objects of the material world;
but the sudden changes to which these are continually liable, create
innumerable disorders, and hence arise deception, and, in short, all
the errors of human life. Yet, in whatever situation man may be, he is
still an object of divine concern, and, to recommend himself to the
favor of the pre-existent cause, he must comply with the purposes of
his creation, and, by proper care and diligence, he can recover those
immaculate powers with which he was naturally endowed.
All science the philosopher made to consist in reminiscence—in
recalling the nature, forms, and proportions, of those perfect and
immutable essences, with which the human mind had been conversant. From
observations like these, the summit of felicity might be attained by
removing from the material, and approaching nearer to the intellectual
world; by curbing and governing the passions, which were ever agitated
and inflamed by real or imaginary objects.
The passions were divided into two classes: the first consisted of the
irascible passions, which originated in pride or resentment, and were
seated in the breast; the other, founded on the love of pleasure, was
the concupiscible part of the soul, seated in the inferior parts of the
body. These different orders induced the philosopher to compare the
soul to a small republic, of which the reasoning and judging powers
were stationed in the head, as in a firm citadel, and of which the
senses were the guards and servants. By the irascible part of the soul,
men asserted their dignity, repelled injuries, and scorned danger and
the concupiscible part provided the support and the necessities of
the body, and, when governed with propriety, gave rise to temperance.
Justice was produced by the regular dominion of reason, and by the
submission of the passions; and prudence arose from the strength,
acuteness, and perfection of the soul, without which other virtues
could not exist.
But amidst all this, wisdom was not easily attained; at their creation
all minds were not endowed with the same excellence; the bodies which
they animated on earth, were not always in harmony with the divine
emanation; some might be too weak, others too strong. On the first
years of a man’s life depended his future character; an effeminate and
licentious education seemed calculated to destroy the purposes of the
divinity, while the contrary produced different effects, and tended to
cultivate and improve the reasoning and judging faculty, and to produce
wisdom and virtue.
Plato was the first who supported the immortality of the soul upon
arguments solid and permanent, deduced from truth and experience. He
did not imagine that the diseases and death of the body could injure
the principle of life, and destroy the soul, which, of itself, was of
divine origin, and of an incorrupted and immutable essence, which,
though inherent for a while in matter, could not lose that power which
was the emanation of God. From doctrines like these, the great founder
of Platonism concluded that there might exist in the world a community
of men, whose passions could be governed with moderation, and who, from
knowing the evils and miseries which arise from ill conduct, might
aspire to excellence, and attain that perfection which can be derived
from a proper exercise of the rational and moral powers. To illustrate
this more fully, the philosopher wrote a book, well known by the name
of the “Republic of Plato,” in which he explains, with acuteness,
judgment, and elegance, the rise and revolution of civil society; and
so respected was his opinion as a legislator, that his scholars were
employed in regulating the republics of Arcadia.
It was a characteristic of Plato’s mind, that he united a subtle
intellect to a glowing fancy. As an illustration of his style, we
may mention the passage in which he shows the operation of the three
principles in the human being—mind, soul, and body—or the three
powers of intellect, spirit, and matter. It occurs in the dialogue of
Phædrus, where he endeavors to illustrate the doctrine that the mind or
reason should be the governing faculty.
The soul is here compared to a chariot, drawn by a pair of winged
steeds, one of which is well-bred and well-trained, and the other quite
the contrary. The quiet horse, the Will, is obedient to the rein, and
strives to draw its wilder yoke-fellow, the Appetite, along with it,
and to induce it to listen to the voice of the charioteer, Reason. But
they have a great deal of trouble with the restive horse, and the whole
object of the journey seems to be lost, if this is permitted to have
its way. In this allegory, it is shown that the object of Reason, in
exacting obedience, is not merely that discipline and subordination
which constitute the virtues of man, but to keep the mind in a state
to rise to the contemplation and enjoyment of great and eternal truths.
In other words, a man must be in a moral state, before he can place
himself in a religious state, so as to enjoy the _summum bonum_, or
greatest good. What, then, is this greatest good? or, in the language
of Plato, its _idea_?—for, with him, _idea_ and _essence_ are
synonymous. This is God—not his image, but his nature, which is the
sovereign good. Thus the greatest happiness of man was placed by Plato
in a mysterious union of the soul with this source of goodness. How
near an approach to Christian communion with God, is this?
However fantastic many of the details of Plato’s system may seem, and
however illusory its whole machinery must appear, when viewed in the
light of modern criticism, one thing is to be observed,—that the
great results of his philosophy are true. He struggled through the
thick mists of his age, and discovered the eternal existence of Deity;
he perceived and established, on grounds not to be controverted, the
immortality of the soul. He placed true happiness where philosophy and
religion place it—in the ascendency of the spirit over the body—the
subjugation of the passions to the dominion of reason and virtue. It
appears that the germs of these great truths had already manifested
themselves in the minds of Pythagoras, Socrates, and others; and Plato
borrowed from them many of his noble ideas. But he systematized what
they had left in a crude state; he gave a more clear and distinct
utterance to what his great master, Socrates, had dimly conceived, and
ineffectually struggled to announce. He reached the highest point, in
the search after divine knowledge which has ever been attained, without
the direct aid of inspiration. In the gradual development of God’s will
to man, he was one of the great instruments. Yet, in reviewing his
works, we see how imperfect was still his knowledge of things divine,
and what fearful shadows would rest upon the world, if Plato were our
only guide. How dark, uncertain, mysterious, would be the ways of
God—the destinies of man—if left where the philosopher left them!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
SOCRATES.
Socrates was born at Athens 468 B. C. His father, Sophroniscus, was
a sculptor of humble reputation and in moderate circumstances. He
educated his son to his own profession, in which it appears that the
latter made considerable proficiency. He did not, however, devote
himself wholly to this pursuit, but spent a large share of his time
in reading the works of philosophers. Crito, an intimate friend,
supplied him with money to pay the masters who taught him various
accomplishments, and he became an auditor of most of the great
philosophers who visited Athens, during his youth. By these means, he
received the best education which an Athenian youth could command in
those days.
In the early part of his life, he wrought at his trade, so far as
to earn a decent subsistence. Receiving a small property at his
father’s death, when he was about thirty years of age, he devoted
himself entirely to philosophical pursuits. His habits were simple and
economical; his dress was coarse, and he seldom wore shoes. By his
frugality, he was thus able to live without labor, and yet without
being dependent upon others.
With regard to his public life, it appears that he served his country
faithfully as a soldier, according to the duty of every Athenian
citizen. He took part in three campaigns, displaying the greatest
hardihood and valor. He endured, without repining, hunger and thirst,
heat and cold. In a skirmish with the enemy, his pupil, Alcibiades,
fell wounded in the midst of the enemy. Socrates rescued him and
carried him off, for which the civic crown was awarded as the prize of
valor. This reward, however, he transferred to Alcibiades. In another
campaign he saved the life of his pupil, Xenophon, whom he carried from
the field on his shoulders, fighting his way as he went.
At the age of sixty-five, he became a member of the council of Five
Hundred, at Athens. He rose also to the dignity of president of that
body; by virtue of which office, he for one day managed the popular
assemblies and kept the key of the citadel and treasury. Ten naval
officers had been accused of misconduct, because, after the battle
of Arginusæ, they had omitted the sacred duty of burying the slain,
in consequence of a violent storm. Their enemies, finding the people
disposed to acquit them procured by intrigue, the prorogation of
several assemblies. A new assembly was held on the day when Socrates
was president; and the citizens, instigated by bad men, violently
demanded that sentence of death should be pronounced on all the accused
at once, contrary to law. But the menaces of violence were unable to
bend the inflexible justice of Socrates, and he was able afterwards to
declare, on his own trial, that ten innocent men had been saved by his
influence.
When Socrates formed the resolution of devoting himself to the pursuit
of divine and human knowledge, the sophists, a set of arrogant
philosophers, were perverting the heads and corrupting the hearts of
the Grecian youth. He therefore put himself in opposition to these
false guides, and went about endeavoring to instruct everybody in a
wiser and better philosophy than that which prevailed. He was, in fact,
an instructor of the people; and, believing himself an ambassador of
God, he was occupied from the dawn of day in seeking persons whom he
might teach either what is important to mankind in general, or the
private circumstances of individuals. He went to the public assemblies
and the most crowded streets, or entered the workshops of mechanics
and artists, and conversed with the people on religious duties, on
their social and political relations; on all subjects, indeed, relating
to morals, and even on agriculture, war, and the arts. He endeavored
to remove prevailing prejudices and errors, and to substitute right
principles; to awaken their better genius in the minds of his hearers;
to encourage and console them; to enlighten and improve mankind, and
make them really happy.
It is manifest that such a course must have been attended with great
difficulties. But the serenity of Socrates was undisturbed; he was
always perfectly cheerful in appearance and conversation. In the
market-place and at home, among people and in the society of those
whom love of truth and virtue connected more closely with him, he
was always the same. It cannot be doubted that a happy physical and
mental temperament contributed to produce this equanimity. But it was,
likewise, a fruit of self-discipline and the philosophy he taught. He
treated his body as a servant, and inured it to every privation, so
that moderation was to him an easy virtue; and he retained in old age
his youthful vigor, physical and mental. He was kind as a husband and
a father. Though his wife, Xantippe, was a noted shrew, he viewed her
as an excellent instrument of discipline, and treated her with patience
and forbearance.
Although the Greeks at this time were zealously devoted to their
heathen mythology, Socrates was a sincere worshipper of the Supreme
Being; yet, from his care not to offend his weaker brethren, he
observed, with punctilious exactness, the religious uses which
antiquity and custom had consecrated. He was constantly attended by a
circle of disciples, who caught from him the spirit of free inquiry,
and were inspired with his zeal for the highest good, for religion,
truth and virtue. The succeeding schools of philosophy in Greece
are therefore justly traced back to him; and he is to be regarded
as the master who gave philosophical investigation among the Greeks
its highest direction. Among his most distinguished disciples were
Alcibiades, Crito, Xenophon, Antisthenes, Aristippus, Phædon, Æschines,
Cebes, Euclid, and Plato. From the detached accounts given us by
Xenophon and Plato, it appears that he instructed them in politics,
rhetoric, logic, ethics, arithmetic, and geometry, though not in a
systematic manner. He read with them the principal poets, and pointed
out their beauties; he labored to enlighten and correct their opinions
on all practical subjects, and to excite them to the study of whatever
is most important to men.