CHAPTER 3: PLATO AND THE DOCTRINE OF NUMBER

[51] His devotion to the austere and abstract philosophy of Parmenides,

its passivity or indifference, could not repress the opulent genius of

Plato, or transform him into a cynic. Another ancient philosopher,

Pythagoras, set the frozen waves in motion again, brought back to

Plato's recognition all that multiplicity in men's experience to which

Heraclitus had borne such emphatic witness; but as rhythm or melody

now--in movement truly, but moving as disciplined sound and with the

reasonable soul of music in it.

Pythagoras, or the founder of the Pythagorean philosophy, is the third

of those earlier masters, who explain the intellectual confirmation of

Plato by way of antecedent. What he said, or was believed to have

said, is almost everywhere in the very texture of Platonic philosophy,

as vera vox, an authority with prescript claim on sympathetic or at

least reverent consideration, to be developed generously in the natural

growth of Plato's own thoughts.

[52] Nothing remains of his writings: dark statements only, as occasion

served, in later authors. Plato himself attributes those doctrines of

his not to Pythagoras but to the Pythagoreans. But if no such name had

come down to us we might have understood how, in the search for the

philosophic unity of experience, a common measure of things, for a

cosmical hypothesis, number and the truths of number would come to fill

the place occupied by some omnipresent physical element, air, fire,

water, in the philosophies of Ionia; by the abstract and exclusive idea

of the unity of Being itself in the system of Parmenides. To realise

unity in variety, to discover cosmos--an order that shall satisfy one's

reasonable soul--below and within apparent chaos: is from first to last

the continuous purpose of what we call philosophy. Well! Pythagoras

seems to have found that unity of principle (archê)+ in the dominion of

number everywhere, the proportion, the harmony, the music, into which

number as such expands. Truths of number: the essential laws of

measure in time and space:--Yes, these are indeed everywhere in our

experience: must, as Kant can explain to us, be an element in anything

we are able so much as to conceive at all. And music, covering all it

does, for Pythagoras, for Plato and Platonism--music, which though it

is of course much besides, is certainly a formal development of purely

numerical laws: that too surely is something, [53] independently of

ourselves, in the real world without us, like a personal intelligible

soul durably resident there for those who bring intelligence of it, of

music, with them; to be known on the favourite Platonic principle of

like by like (homoion homoiô)+ though the incapable or uninstructed ear,

in various degrees of dulness, may fail to apprehend it.

The Golden Verses of Pythagoras parted early into dust (that seems

strange, if they were ever really written in a book) and antiquity

itself knows little directly about his doctrine. Yet Pythagoras is

much more than a mere name, a term, for locating as well as may be a

philosophical abstraction. Pythagoras, his person, his memory,

attracted from the first a kind of fairy-tale of mystic science. The

philosophy of number, of music and proportion, came, and has remained,

in a cloud of legendary glory; the gradual accumulation of which

Porphyry and Iamblichus, the fantastic masters of Neo-Platonism, or

Neo-Pythagoreanism, have embodied in their so-called Lives of him, like

some antique fable richly embossed with starry wonders. In this spirit

there had been much writing about him: that he was a son of Apollo,

nay, Apollo himself--the twilight, attempered, Hyperborean Apollo, like

the sun in Lapland: that his person gleamed at times with a

supernatural brightness: that he had exposed to those who loved him a

golden thigh: how Abaris, the minister of that god, [54] had come

flying to him on a golden arrow: of his almost impossible journeys: how

he was seen, had lectured indeed, in different places at the same time.

As he walked on the banks of the Nessus the river had whispered his

name: he had been, in the secondary sense, various persons in the

course of ages; a courtesan once, for some ancient sin in him; and then

a hero, Euphorbus, son of Panthus; could remember very distinctly so

recent a matter as the Trojan war, and had recognised in a moment his

own old armour, hanging on the wall, above one of his old dead bodies,

in the temple of Athene at Argos; showing out all along only by hints

and flashes the abysses of divine knowledge within him, sometimes by

miracle. For if the philosopher really is all that Pythagoras or the

Pythagoreans suppose; if the material world is so perfect a musical

instrument, and he knows its theory so well, he might surely give

practical and sensible proof of that on occasion, by himself

improvising music upon it in direct miracle. And so there, in Porphyry

and Iamblichus, the appropriate miracles are.

If the mistaken affection of the disciples of dreamy Neo-Platonic

Gnôsis at Alexandria, in the third or fourth century of our era, has

thus made it impossible to separate later legend from original evidence

as to what he was, and said, and how he said it, yet that there was a

brilliant, perhaps a showy, personality there, infusing the [55] most

abstract truths with what would tell on the fancy, seems more than

probable, and, though he would appear really to have had from the first

much of mystery or mysticism about him, the thaumaturge of Samos, "whom

even the vulgar might follow as a conjuror," must have been very unlike

the lonely "weeping" philosopher of Ephesus, or the almost disembodied

philosopher of Elea. In the very person and doings of this earliest

master of the doctrine of harmony, people saw that philosophy is

Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,

But musical as is Apollo's lute.

And in turn he abounded in influence on the deeds, the persons, of

others, as if he had really carried a magic lute in his hands to charm

them.

As his fellow-citizens had all but identified Pythagoras with him, so

Apollo remained the peculiar patron of the Pythagoreans; and we may

note, in connexion with their influence on Plato, that as Apollo was

the chosen ancestral deity, so Pythagoreanism became especially the

philosophy, of the severely musical Dorian Greeks. If, as Plato was

aware, or fancied, true Spartans knew more of philosophy than they let

strangers suppose--turned them all out from time to time and feasted on

it in secret, for the strengthening of their souls--it was [56]

precisely the Pythagorean philosophy of music, of austere music,

mastering, remoulding, men's very bodies, they would then have

discussed with one another.

A native of Ionia, it is in one of the Dorian cities of Magna Graecia,

at Crotona, that Pythagoras finds the fitting scene of his mysterious

influence. He founds there something like an ideal republic, or rather

a religious brotherhood, under a rule outwardly expressive of that

inward idea of order or harmony, so dear to the Dorian soul, and, for

it, as for him, ever the peculiar pledge of the presence of philosophic

truth. Alêtheian de ametria hêgei syngenê einai, ê emmetria;+ asks one

in The Republic; and Emmetria?+ of course, is the answer.

Recalling the student of Plato to penetrate as far as he can into that

mysterious community, there, long before, in the imagination of

Pythagoras is the first dream of the Perfect City, with all those

peculiar ethical sympathies which the Platonic Republic enforces

already well defined--the perfect mystic body of the Dorian soul,

built, as Plato requires, to the strains of music. As a whole, and in

its members severally, it would reproduce and visibly reflect to others

that inward order and harmony of which each one was a part. As such,

the Pythagorean order (it was itself an "order") expanded and was long

maintained in those cities of Magna Graecia which had been the scene of

the practical [57] no less than of the speculative activity of its

founder; and in one of which, Metapontum, so late as the days of Cicero

what was believed to be the tomb of Pythagoras was still shown. Order,

harmony, the temperance, which, as Plato will explain to us, will

convince us by the visible presentment of it in the faultless person of

the youthful Charmides, is like a musical harmony,--that was the chief

thing Pythagoras exacted from his followers, at least at first, though

they were mainly of the noble and wealthy class who could have done

what they liked--temperance in a religious intention, with many

singular scruples concerning bodily purification, diet, and the like.

For if, according to his philosophy, the soul had come from heaven, to

use the phrase of Wordsworth reproducing the central Pythagorean

doctrine, "from heaven," as he says, "trailing clouds of glory," so the

arguments of Pythagoras were always more or less explicitly involving

one in consideration of the means by which one might get back thither,

of which means, surely, abstinence, the repression of one's carnal

elements, must be one; in consideration also, in curious questions, as

to the relationship of those carnal elements in us to the pilgrim soul,

before and after, for which he was so anxious to secure full use of all

the opportunities of further perfecting which might yet await it, in

the many revolutions of its existence. In the midst of that

aesthetically [58] so brilliant world of Greater Greece, as if

anticipating Plato, he has, like the philosophic kings of the Platonic

Republic, already something of the monk, of monastic ascêsis, about

him. Its purpose is to fit him for, duly to refine his nature towards,

that closer vision of truth to which perchance he may be even now upon

his way. The secrecy again, that characteristic silence of which the

philosopher of music was, perhaps not inconsistently, a lover, which

enveloped the entire action of the Pythagoreans, and had indeed kept

Pythagoras himself, as some have thought, from committing his thoughts

to writing at all, was congruous with such monkish discipline.

Mysticism--the condition of the initiated--is a word derived, as we

know, from a Greek verb which may perhaps mean to close the eye that

one may better perceive the invisible, but more probably means to close

the lips while the soul is brooding over what cannot be uttered. Later

Christian admirers said of him, that he had hidden the words of God in

his heart.

The dust of his golden verses perhaps, but certainly the gold-dust of

his thoughts, lies scattered all along Greek literature from Plato to

the latest of the Greek Fathers of the Church. You may find it

serviceably worked out in the notes of Zeller's excellent work on Greek

philosophy, and, with more sparing comment, in Mullach's Fragmenta

Philosophorum Graecorum. No one of those Pre-Socratic philosophers has

[59] been the subject of a more enthusiastic erudition. For his mind's

health however, if in doing so he is not making a disproportionate use

of his time, inconsistent certainly with the essential temper of the

doctrine he seeks for, and such as a true Pythagorean would instantly

condemn, the young scholar might be recommended to go straight to the

pages of Aristotle--those discreet, unromantic pages, salutary

therefore to listen to, concerning doctrines in themselves so

fantastic.* In the Ethics, as you may know, in the Metaphysics, and

elsewhere, Aristotle gives many not unsympathetic notices at least of

the disciples, which, by way of sober contrast on a matter from the

first profusely, perhaps cheaply, embroidered, is like quiet

information from Pythagoras himself. Only, remember always in reading

Plato--Plato, as a sincere learner in the school of Pythagoras--that

the essence, the active principle of the Pythagorean doctrine, resides,

not as with the ancient Eleatics, nor as with our modern selves too

often, in the "infinite," those eternities, infinitudes, abysses,

Carlyle invokes for us so often--in no cultus of the infinite (to

apeiron) but in the finite (to peras).+ It is so indeed, with that

exception of the Parmenidean sect, through all Greek philosophy,

congruously with the proper vocation of the [60] people of art, of art

as being itself the finite, ever controlling the infinite, the

formless. Those famous systoichiai tôn enantiôn,+ or parallel columns

of contraries: the One and the Many: Odd and Even, and the like: Good

and Evil: are indeed all reducible ultimately to terms of art, as the

expressive and the inexpressive. Now observe that Plato's "theory of

ideas" is but an effort to enforce the Pythagorean peras,+ with all the

unity-in-variety of concerted music,--eternal definition of the finite,

upon to apeiron,+ the infinite, the indefinite, formless, brute matter,

of our experience of the world.

For it is of Plato again we should be thinking, and of Pythagoras or

the Pythagoreans, only so far as they explain the actual conformation

of Plato's thoughts as we find them, especially in The Republic. Let

us see, as much as possible in his own words, what Plato received from

that older philosophy, of which the two leading persuasions were;

first, the universality, the ultimate truth, of numerical, of musical

law; and secondly, the pre-existence, the double eternity, of the soul.

In spirit, then, we are certainly of the Pythagorean company in that

most characteristic dialogue, the Meno, in which Plato discusses the

nature, the true idea, of Virtue, or rather how one may attain thereto;

compelled to this subordinate and accessory question by the

intellectual [61] cowardice of his disciple, though after his manner he

flashes irrepressible light on that other primary and really

indispensable question by the way. Pythagoras, who had founded his

famous brotherhood by way of turning theory into practice, must have

had, of course, definite views on that most practical question, how

virtue is to be attained by us; and Plato is certainly faithful to him

in assigning the causation of virtue partly to discipline, forming

habit (askêsis)+ as enforced on the monk, the soldier, the schoolboy, as

he is true to his own experience in assigning it partly also to a good

natural disposition (physei)+ and he suggests afterwards, as I suppose

some of us would be ready to do, that virtue is due also in part (theia

moira)+ to the good pleasure of heaven, to un-merited grace. Whatever

else, however, may be held about it, it is certain (he admits) that

virtue comes in great measure through learning. But is there in very

deed such a thing as learning? asks the eristic Meno, who is so

youthfully fond of argument for its own sake, and must exercise by

display his already well-trained intellectual muscle. Is not that

favourite, that characteristic, Greek paradox, that it is impossible to

be taught, and therefore useless to seek, what one does not know

already, after all the expression of an empirical truth?--

Meno. After what manner Socrates will you seek for that which

you do not know at all--what it is? For what sort of thing,

among the things you know not, will you propose as your [62]

object of search? Or even if you should have lighted full upon

it, how will you know that it is this thing which you knew not?

Socrates. Ah! I understand the kind of thing you mean to say,

Meno. Do you see what a contentious argument this is you are

bringing down on our heads?--that forsooth it is not possible

for a man to seek either for what he knows, or for what he knows

not; inasmuch as he would not seek what he knows, at least;

because he knows it, and to one in such case there is no need

of seeking. Nor would he seek after what he knows not; for he

knows not what he shall seek for. Meno, 80.

Well! that is true in a sense, as Socrates admits; not however in any

sense which encourages idle acquiescence in what according to common

language is our ignorance. There is a sense (it is exemplified in

regard to sound and colour, perhaps in some far more important things)

in which it is matter of experience that it is impossible to seek for,

or be taught, what one does not know already. He who is in total

ignorance of musical notes, who has no ear, will certainly be unaware

of them when they light on him, or he lights upon them. Where could

one begin? we ask, in certain cases where not to know at all means

incapacity for receiving knowledge. Yes, certainly; the Pythagoreans

are right in saying that what we call learning is in fact reminiscence-

-: anamnêsis + famous word! and Socrates proceeds to show in what precise

way it is impossible or possible to find out what you don't know: how

that happens. In full use of the dialogue, as itself the instrument

most [63] fit for him of whatever what we call teaching and learning

may really be, Plato, dramatic always, brings in one of Meno's slaves,

a boy who speaks Greek nicely, but knows nothing of geometry:

introduces him, we may fancy, into a mathematical lecture-room where

diagrams are to be seen on the walls, cubes and the like lying on the

table--particular objects, the mere sight of which will rouse him when

subjected to the dialectical treatment, to universal truths concerning

them. The problem required of him is to describe a square of a

particular size: to find the line which must be the side of such a

square; and he is to find it for himself. Meno, carefully on his

guard, is to watch whether the boy is taught by Socrates in any of his

answers; whether he answers anything at any point otherwise than by way

of reminiscence and really out of his own mind, as the reasonable

questions of Socrates fall like water on the seed-ground, or like

sunlight on the photographer's negative.

"See him now!" he cries triumphantly, "How he remembers; in the logical

order; as he ought to remember!" The reader, in truth, following

closely, scrupulously, this pretty process, cannot help seeing that

after all the boy does not discover the essential point of the problem

for himself, that he is more than just guided on his way by the

questioning of Socrates, that Plato has chosen an instance in itself

illusively clear as being concerned with elementary space. It is [64]

once for all, however, that he recognises, under such questioning, the

immovable, indefectible certainty of this or that truth of space. So

much, the candid reader must concede, is clearly to the advantage of

the Pythagorean theory: that even his false guesses have a

plausibility, a kinship to, a kind of claim upon, truth, about them:

that as he remembers, in logical order (hôs dei)+ so he makes the

mistakes also which he ought to make--the right sort of mistakes, such

as are natural and ought to occur in order to the awakening mind, a

kind of properly innate errors. Nyn autô hôsper onar arti anakekinêtai

hai doxai autai.+--"Just now, as in a dream, these opinions have been

stirred up within him"; and he will perform, Socrates assures us,

similar acts of reminiscence on demand, with other geometrical

problems, with any and every problem whatever.

"If then," observes Socrates in the Phaedo, wistfully pondering, for

such consolation as there may be in it, in his last hours, the larger

outlook suggested by this hopeful doctrine:--

If, having apprehended it (having apprehended a certain mathe-

matical principle, that is) before birth, we were born already

possessed of this principle, had we not knowledge, both before

and immediately upon our begetting here, not merely about the

equal and the greater and the less, but about all other things

of the kind? For our theory (of an innate knowledge, that is

to say, independent of our experience here) our theory holds

not a bit more about two equal lines, than about the absolute

Beauty (was he going now to see its very face again, after the

dim intermediate life here?) and about what is absolutely just

and good, and about all things whatever, upon [65] which, in

all our past questioning and answering, we set this seal--hois

episphragizometha touto + --That, which really is. Phaedo, 75.

But to return to the cheerful pages of the Meno--from the prison-cell

to the old mathematical lecture-room and that psychological experiment

upon the young boy with the square:-- Oukoun oudenos didaxantos, all'

erôtêsantos, epistêsetai, analabôn, autos ex hautou, epistêmên;+

"Through no one's teaching, then, but by a process of mere questioning,

will he attain a true science, knowledge in the fullest sense

(epistêmê)+ by the recovery of such science out of himself?"--Yes! and

that recovery is an act of reminiscence.

These opinions therefore, the boy's discoverable right notions about

side and square and diagonal, were innate in him (enêsan de ge autô

autai hai doxai)+ and surely, as Socrates was observing later, right

opinions also concerning other things more important, which too, when

stirred up by a process of questioning, will be established in him as

consciously reasoned knowledge (erôtêsei epegertheisai, epistêmai

gignontai).+ That at least is what Plato is quite certain about: not

quite so confident, however, regarding another doctrine, fascinating as

he finds it, which seemed to afford an explanation of this leading

psychological fact of an antecedent knowledge within us--the doctrine

namely of metempsychôsis, of the transmigration of souls through

various forms of the bodily life, [66] under a law of moral

retribution, somewhat oracularly suggested in the ancient poets, by

Hesiod and Pindar, but a matter of formal consciousness with the

Pythagoreans, and at last inseparably connected with the authority of

Socrates, who in the Phaedo discourses at great length on that so

comfortable theory, venturing to draw from it, as we saw just now, a

personal hope in the immediate prospect of death. The soul, then,

would be immortal (athanatos an hê psychê eiê)+ prospectively as well as

in retrospect, and is not unlikely to attain to clearer levels of truth

"over the way, there," as, in the Meno, Socrates drew from it an

encouragement to the search for truth, here. Retrospectively, at all

events, it seemed plain that "the soul is eternal. It is right

therefore to make an effort to find out things one may not know, that

is to say, one does not remember, just now." Those notions were in the

boy, they and the like of them, in all boys and men; and he did not

come by them in this life, a young slave in Athens. Ancient, half-

obliterated inscriptions on the mental walls, the mental tablet, seeds

of knowledge to come, shed by some flower of it long ago, it was in an

earlier period of time they had been laid up in him, to blossom again

now, so kindly, so firmly!

Upon a soul thus provided, puzzled as that seed swells within it under

the spring-tide influences of this untried atmosphere, it would be the

proper vocation of the philosophic teacher [67] to supervene with his

encouraging questions. And there was another doctrine--a persuasion

still more poetical or visionary, it might seem, yet with a strong

presumption of literal truth about it, when seen in connexion with that

great fact of our consciousness which it so conveniently explains--

"reminiscence." Socrates had heard it, he tells us in the Meno, in the

locus classicus on this matter, from the venerable lips of certain

religious persons, priests and priestesses,

--who had made it their business to be able to give an account

concerning their sacred functions. Pindar too asserts this,

and many other of the poets, so many as were divinely inspired.

And what they say is as follows. But do you observe, whether

they seem to you to speak the truth. For they say that the soul

of man is immortal; and that at one time it comes to a pause,

which indeed they call dying, and then is born again; but that

it is never destroyed. That on this account indeed it is our

duty to pass through life as religiously as possible (because

there's 'another world,' namely). 'For those,' says Pindar,

'from whom Persephone shall have received a recompense of ancient

wrong--she gives back their soul again to the sun above in the

ninth year, of whom are begotten kings, illustrious and swift in

strength, and men greatest in wisdom; and for remaining time they

are called holy heroes among us.' Inasmuch then as the soul is

immortal, and has been born many times, and has seen both things

here and things in Hades, and all things, there is nothing that

it has not learned; so that it is by no means surprising that

it should be able to remember both about virtue and about other

matters what it knew at least even aforetime. For inasmuch as

the whole of nature is akin to itself (homogeneous) and the soul

has learned all things, nothing hinders one, by remembering one

thing only, which indeed people call 'learning' (though it is

something else in fact, you see!) from finding out all other

things for himself, if he be brave and fail not through weariness

in his search. For in truth to [68] seek and to learn is wholly

Recollection. Therefore one must not be persuaded by that eristic

doctrine (namely that if ignorant in ignorance you must remain)

for that on the one hand would make us idle and is a pleasant

doctrine for the weak among mankind to hear; while this other

doctrine makes us industrious and apt to seek. Trusting in

which that it is true, I am willing along with you to seek out

virtue:--what it is. Meno, 81.

These strange theories then are much with Socrates on his last sad day-

-sad to his friends--as justifying more or less, on ancient religious

authority, the instinctive confidence, checking sadness in himself,

that he will survive--survive the effects of the poison, of the funeral

fire; that somewhere, with some others, with Minos perhaps and other

"righteous souls" of the national religion, he will be holding

discourses, dialogues, quite similar to these, only a little better as

must naturally happen with so diligent a scholar, this time to-morrow.

And that wild thought of metempsychôsis was connected with a theory,

yet more fantastic, of the visible heaven above us. For Pythagoras,

the Pythagoreans, had had their views also, as became the possessors of

"a first principle"--of a philosophy therefore which need leave no

problem untouched--on purely material things, above all on the

structure of the planets, the mechanical contrivances by which their

motion was effected (it came to just that!) on the relation of the

earth to its atmosphere and the like. The doctrine of the

transmigration, [69] the pilgrimage or mental journeys, of the soul

linked itself readily with a fanciful, guess-work astronomy, which

provided starry places, wide areas, hostelries, for that wanderer to

move or rest in. A matter of very lively and presentable form and

colour, as if making the invisible show through, this too pleased the

extremely visual fancy of Plato; as we may see, in many places of the

Phaedo, the Phaedrus, the Timaeus, and most conspicuously in the tenth

book of The Republic, where he relates the vision of Er--what he saw of

the other world during a kind of temporary death. Hell, Purgatory,

Paradise, are briefly depicted in it; Paradise especially with a quite

Dantesque sensibility to coloured light--physical light or spiritual,

you can hardly tell which, so perfectly is the inward sense blent with

its visible counter-part, reminding one forcibly of the Divine Comedy,

of which those closing pages of The Republic suggest an early outline.

That then is the third element in Plato derivative from his Pythagorean

masters: an astronomy of infant minds, we might call it, in which the

celestial world is the scene, not as yet of those abstract reasonable

laws of number and motion and space, upon which, as Plato himself

protests in the seventh book of The Republic, it is the business of a

veritable science of the stars to exercise our minds, but rather of a

machinery, which the mere star-gazer may peep into as best he can, with

its levers, its spindles and revolving [70] wheels, its spheres, he

says,--"like those boxes which fit into one another," and the literal

doors "opened in heaven," through which, at the due point of ascension,

the revolving pilgrim soul will glide forth and have a chance of gazing

into the wide spaces beyond, "as he stands outside on the back of the

sky"--that hollow partly transparent sphere which surrounds and closes

in our terrestrial atmosphere. Most difficult to follow in detailed

description, perhaps not to be taken quite seriously, one thing at

least is clear about the planetary movements as Plato and his

Pythagorean teachers conceive them. They produce, naturally enough,

sounds, that famous "music of the spheres," which the undisciplined ear

fails to recognise, to delight in, only because it is never silent.

That it really is impossible after all to learn, to be taught what you

are entirely ignorant of, was and still is a fact of experience,

manifest especially in regard to music. Now that "music of the

spheres" in its largest sense, its completest orchestration, the

harmonious order of the whole universe (kosmos)+ was what souls had

heard of old; found echoes of here; might recover in its entirety, amid

the influences of the melodious colour, sounds, manners, the enforced

modulating discipline, which would make the whole life of a citizen of

the Perfect City an education in music. We are now with Plato, you

see! in his reproduction, so fully detailed for us in The [71]

Republic, of the earlier and vaguer Pythagorean brotherhood. Musical

imagery, the notions of proportion and the like, have ever since Plato

wrote played a large part in the theory of morals; have come to seem

almost a natural part of language concerning them. Only, wherever in

Plato himself you find such imagery, you may note Pythagorean

influence.

The student of The Republic hardly needs to be reminded how all-

pervasive in it that imagery is; how emphatic, in all its speculative

theory, in all its practical provisions, is the desire for harmony; how

the whole business of education (of gymnastic even, the seeming rival

of music) is brought under it; how large a part of the claims of duty,

of right conduct, for the perfectly initiated, comes with him to be

this, that it sounds so well. Plêmmeleia,+ discordancy,--all faultiness

resolves itself into that. "Canst play on this flute?" asks Hamlet:--

on human nature, with all its stops, of whose capricious tuneableness,

or want of tune, he is himself the representative. Well! the perfect

state, thinks Plato, can. For him, music is still everywhere in the

world, and the whole business of philosophy only as it were the correct

editing of it: as it will be the whole business of the state to

repress, in the great concert, the jarring self-assertion (pleonexia)+

of those whose voices have large natural power in them. How, in

detail, rhythm, the limit (peras)+ is enforced in Plato's Republic there

is no time to [72] show. Call to mind only that the perfect visible

equivalent of such rhythm is in those portrait-statues of the actual

youth of Greece--legacy of Greek sculpture more precious by far than

its fancied forms of deity--the quoit-player, the diadumenus, the

apoxyomenus; and how the most beautiful type of such youth, by the

universal admission of the Greeks themselves, had issued from the

severe schools of Sparta, that highest civic embodiment of the Dorian

temper, like some perfect musical instrument, perfectly responsive to

the intention, to the lightest touch, of the finger of law.--Yet with a

fresh setting of the old music in each succeeding generation. For in

truth we come into the world, each one of us, "not in nakedness," but

by the natural course of organic development clothed far more

completely than even Pythagoras supposed in a vesture of the past, nay,

fatally shrouded, it might seem, in those laws or tricks of heredity

which we mistake for our volitions; in the language which is more than

one half of our thoughts; in the moral and mental habits, the customs,

the literature, the very houses, which we did not make for ourselves;

in the vesture of a past, which is (so science would assure us) not

ours, but of the race, the species: that Zeit-geist, or abstract

secular process, in which, as we could have had no direct consciousness

of it, so we can pretend to no future personal interest. It is

humanity itself now--abstract humanity--that [73] figures as the

transmigrating soul, accumulating into its "colossal manhood" the

experience of ages; making use of, and casting aside in its march, the

souls of countless individuals, as Pythagoras supposed the individual

soul to cast aside again and again its outworn body.

So it may be. There was nothing of all that, however, in the mind of

the great English poet at the beginning of this century whose famous

Ode on The Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Childhood,

in which he made metempsychôsis his own, must still express for some

minds something more than merely poetic truth. For Pythagoreanism too,

like all the graver utterances of primitive Greek philosophy, is an

instinct of the human mind itself, and therefore also a constant

tradition in its history, which will recur; fortifying this or that

soul here or there in a part at least of that old sanguine assurance

about itself, which possessed Socrates so immovably, his masters, his

disciples. Those who do not already know Wordsworth's Ode ought soon

to read it for themselves. Listen instead to the lines which perhaps

suggested Wordsworth's: The Retreat, by Henry Vaughan, one of the so-

called Platonist poets of about two centuries ago, who was able to

blend those Pythagorean doctrines with the Christian belief, amid which

indeed, from the unsanctioned dreams of Origen onwards, those doctrines

have shown themselves not otherwise than at home.

[74] Happy, those days, he declares,

Before I understood this place,

Appointed for my second race;

Or taught my soul to fancy ought

But a white celestial thought;

When yet I had not walked above

A mile or two from my first love;

But felt through all this fleshly dress

Bright shoots of everlastingness.

O! how I long to travel back

And tread again that ancient track!

That I might once more reach that plain,

Where first I left my glorious train.--

But Ah! my soul with too much stay

Is drunk; and staggers in the way.

Some men a forward motion love,

But I backward steps would move;

And when this dust falls to the urn

In that state I came return.

Summing up those three philosophies antecedent to Plato, we might say,

that if Heraclitus taught the doctrine of progress, and the Eleatics

that of rest, so, in such quaint phrase as Vaughan's, Pythagoreanism is

the philosophy of re-action.

NOTES

52. +Transliteration: archê. Liddell and Scott definition: "I.

beginning, first cause, origin. II. 1. supreme power, sovereignty,

dominion; 2. office."

53. +Transliteration: homoion homoiô. Translation: "like by like."

56. +Transliteration: Alêtheian de ametria hêgei syngenê einai, ê

emmetria. E-text editor's translation: "And do you suppose that truth

is close kin to measure and proportion, or to disproportion?" Plato,

The Republic, Book VI, 486d.

56. +Transliteration: Emmetria. E-text editor's translation: "To

measure and proportion." Plato, The Republic, Book VI, 486d.

59. *Or to Mr. Burnet's Early Greek Philosophy; which I have read since

these pages went to press, with much admiration for its learning and

lucidity, and its unconventionality of view.

59. +Transliteration: to apeiron . . . to peras. Liddell and Scott

definition: "I. without trial or experience of a thing . . . II.

boundless, endless, countless / an end, extremity." As Pater

indicates, in Plato the terms mean something like "infinite" and

"finite," or "bounded" and "unbounded."

60. +Transliteration: systoichiai tôn enantiôn. "Co-ordinates

consisting of opposites."

60. +Transliteration: peras. See above, second note for page 59.

60. +Transliteration: to apeiron. See above, second note for page 59.

61. +Transliteration: askêsis. Liddell and Scott definition:

"excercise, training."

61. +Transliteration: physei. Liddell and Scott definition of physis:

"the nature, inborn quality, property or constitution of a person or

thing." Thus, the dative form cited by Pater means, "with regard to

nature."

61. +Transliteration: theia moira. Translation: "one's lot by divine

appointment."

62. +Transliteration: anamnêsis. Liddell and Scott definition: "a

calling to mind, recollection."

64. +Transliteration: hôs dei. E-text editor's translation: "as is

necessary."

64. +Transliteration: Nyn autô hôsper onar arti anakekinêtai hai doxai

autai. Pater's translation: "Just now, as in a dream, these opinions

have been stirred up within him." Plato, Meno, 85c.

65. +Transliteration: hois episphragizometha touto. E-text editor's

translation: "these things upon which we set this seal." Plato,

Phaedo, 75d.

65. +Transliteration: Oukoun oudenos didaxantos, all' erôtêsantos,

epistêsetai, analabôn, autos ex hautou, epistêmên. E-text editor's

translation: "No-one having taught him a thing, but rather through

questioning alone, he will understand for certain, retrieving the

knowledge out of himself?" Plato, Meno, 85d.

65. +Transliteration: epistêmê. Liddell and Scott definition "1.

knowledge, understanding, skill, experience, wisdom; 2. scientific

knowledge."

65. +Transliteration: enêsan de ge autô autai hai doxai. E-text

editor's translation: "Yet these notions were [already] implanted in

him, weren't they?" Plato, Meno 85c. Source, if any.

65. +Transliteration: [enesontai autôi alêtheis doxai,] erôtêsei

epegertheisai, epistêmai gignontai. E-text editor's translation: "[He

holds within himself true opinions,] which a questioning process may

awaken into certain knowledge." Plato, Meno 86a.

66. +Transliteration: athanatos an hê psychê eiê. Pater's translation:

"The soul, then, would be immortal." Plato, Meno 86b.

70. +Transliteration: kosmos. Liddell and Scott definition: "I. 1.

order; 2. good order, good behaviour, decency; 3. a set form or order:

of states, government; 4. the mode or fashion of a thing; II. an

ornament...; III. the world or universe, from its perfect arrangement."

71. +Transliteration: Plêmmeleia. Liddell and Scott definition: "a

false note . . . error, offense."

71. +Transliteration: pleonexia. Liddell and Scott definition: "a

disposition to take more than one's share."

71. +Transliteration: peras. See above, note two, page 59.

Plato and Platonism · 第 3 / 8 章