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The Great Educators

Edited by NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER

ARISTOTLE

AND

ANCIENT EDUCATIONAL IDEALS

BY

THOMAS DAVIDSON

NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1892




COPYRIGHT, 1892, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS.




PREFACE


In undertaking to treat of Aristotle as the expounder of ancient
educational ideas, I might, with Kapp's _Aristoteles' Staatspaedagogik_
before me, have made my task an easy one. I might simply have presented
in an orderly way and with a little commentary, what is to be found on
the subject of education in his various works--Politics, Ethics,
Rhetoric, Poetics, etc. I had two reasons, however, for not adopting
this course: (1) that this work had been done, better than I could do
it, in the treatise referred to, and (2) that a mere restatement of what
Aristotle says on education would hardly have shown his relation to
ancient pedagogy as a whole. I therefore judged it better, by tracing
briefly the whole history of Greek education up to Aristotle and down
from Aristotle, to show the past which conditioned his theories and the
future which was conditioned by them. Only thus, it seemed to me, could
his teachings be seen in their proper light. And I have found that this
method has many advantages, of which I may mention one. It has enabled
me to show the close connection that existed at all times between Greek
education and Greek social and political life, and to present the one
as the reflection of the other. And this is no small advantage, since it
is just from its relation to the whole of life that Greek education
derives its chief interest for us. We can never, indeed, return to the
purely political education of the Greeks; they themselves had to abandon
that, and, since then,

    A boundless hope has passed across the earth--

a hope which gives our education a meaning and a scope far wider than
any that the State aims at; but in these days, when the State and the
institution which embodies that hope are contending for the right to
educate, it cannot but aid us in settling their respective claims, to
follow the process by which they came to have distinct claims at all,
and to see just what these mean. This process, the method which I have
followed has, I hope, enabled me, in some degree, to bring into
clearness. This, at all events, has been one of my chief aims.

In treating of the details of Greek educational practice, I have been
guided by a desire to present only, or mainly, those which contribute to
make up the complete picture. For this reason I have omitted all
reference to the training for the Olympic and other games, this (so it
seems to me) being no essential part of the system.

It would have been easy for me to give my book a learned appearance, by
checkering its pages with references to ancient authors, or quotations,
in the original, from them; but this has seemed to me both unnecessary
and unprofitable in a work intended for the general public. I have,
therefore, preferred to place at the heads of the different chapters,
in English mostly, such quotations as seemed to express, in the most
striking way, the spirit of the different periods and theories of Greek
education. Taken together, I believe these quotations will be found to
present a fairly definite outline of the whole subject.

In conclusion, I would say that, though I have used a few modern works,
such as those of Kapp and Grasberger, I have done so almost solely for
the sake of finding references. In regard to every point I believe I
have turned to the original sources. If, therefore, my conclusions on
certain points differ from those of writers of note who have preceded
me, I can only say that I have tried to do my best with the original
materials before me. I am far from flattering myself that I have reached
the truth in every case, and shall be very grateful for corrections, in
whatever spirit they may be offered; but I trust that I have been able
to present in their essential features, the "ancient ideals of
education."

                                                      THOMAS DAVIDSON.

       "Glenmore,"
  Keene, Essex Co., N.Y.
      October, 1891.




CONTENTS


  BOOK I.

  INTRODUCTORY.
                                                PAGE

  CHAPTER I.
  Character and Ideal of Greek Education          3

  CHAPTER II.
  Branches of Greek Education                     6

  CHAPTER III.
  Conditions of Education                         9

  CHAPTER IV.
  Subjects of Education                          12

  CHAPTER V.
  Education as Influenced by Time, Place,
  and Circumstances                              15

  CHAPTER VI.
  Epochs in Greek Education                      26


  BOOK II.

  THE HELLENIC PERIOD (B.C. 776-338).


  PART I.

  _THE "OLD EDUCATION"_ (B.C. 776-480).


  CHAPTER I.
  Education for Work and Leisure                 33

  CHAPTER II.
  Æolian or Theban Education                     38

  CHAPTER III.
  Dorian or Spartan Education                    41

  CHAPTER IV.
  Pythagoras                                     52

  CHAPTER V.
  Ionian or Athenian Education                   60
    (1) Family Education                         64
    (2) School Education                         67
      (α) Musical (and Literary) Education       72
      (β) Gymnastics, or Bodily Training         77
      (γ) Dancing                                82
    (3) College Education                        85
    (4) University Education                     90


  PART II.

  _THE "NEW EDUCATION"_ (B.C. 480-338).


  CHAPTER I.
  Individualism and Philosophy                   93

  CHAPTER II.
  Xenophon                                      114

  CHAPTER III.
  Plato                                         133


  BOOK III.

  ARISTOTLE (B.C. 384-322).


  CHAPTER I.
  His Life and Works                            153

  CHAPTER II.
  His Philosophy                                161

  CHAPTER III.
  His Theory of the State                       166

  CHAPTER IV.
  His Pedagogical State                         172

  CHAPTER V.
  Education during the first Seven Years        184

  CHAPTER VI.
  Education from Seven To Twenty-one            188

  CHAPTER VII.
  Education after Twenty-one                    200


  BOOK IV.

  THE HELLENISTIC PERIOD (B.C. 338-A.D. 313).


  CHAPTER I.
  From Ethnic to Cosmopolitan Life              205

  CHAPTER II.
  Quintilian and Rhetorical Education           214

  CHAPTER III.
  Plotinus and Philosophic Education            225

  CHAPTER IV.
  Conclusion                                    231


  APPENDIX.
  The Seven Liberal Arts                        239


  BIBLIOGRAPHY                                  249


  INDEX                                         253




BOOK I

INTRODUCTORY




ERRATA.


Page  19, line  5 from below, insert 102.
      53,   "   6   "    "       "   133.
     181,   "  14   "    "    for "and" read "or."
     250,   "  11   "    "     "  "Watsno" read "Watson."




ARISTOTLE




CHAPTER I

CHARACTER AND IDEAL OF GREEK EDUCATION

    Nothing in excess!--Solon.

    No citizen has a right to consider himself as belonging to himself;
    but all ought to regard themselves as belonging to the State,
    inasmuch as each is a part of the State; and care for the part
    naturally looks to care for the whole.--Aristotle.


Greek life, in all its manifestations, was dominated by a single idea,
and that an æsthetic one. This idea, which worked sometimes consciously,
sometimes unconsciously, was PROPORTION. The Greek term for this
(_Logos_) not only came to designate the incarnate Word of Religion, but
has also supplied many modern languages with a name for the Science of
Manifested Reason--Logic. To the Greek, indeed, Reason always meant
ratio, proportion; and a rational life meant to him a life of which all
the parts, internal and external, stood to each other in just
proportion. Such proportion was threefold; _first_, between the
different parts of the individual human being; _second_, between the
individual and his fellows in a social whole; _third_, between the
human, as such, and the overruling divine. The realization of this
threefold harmony in the individual was called by the Greeks WORTH
(Ἀρετή, usually, but incorrectly, rendered Virtue). There has come down
to us, from the pen of Aristotle, in whom all that was implicit in
Hellenism became explicit, a portion of a pæan addressed to this ideal.
It may be fitly inserted here, in a literal translation.


TO WORTH.

    O Worth! stern taskmistress of human kind,
    Life's noblest prize:
    O Virgin! for thy beauty's sake
    It is an envied lot in Hellas even to die,
    And suffer toils devouring, unassuaged--
    So well dost thou direct the spirit
    To fruit immortal, better than gold
    And parents and soft-eyed sleep.
    For thy cause Jove-born Hercules and Leda's sons
    Much underwent, by deeds
    Thy power proclaiming.
    For love of thee Achilles and Ajax to Hades' halls went down.
    For thy dear beauty's sake Atarneus' nursling too widowed the glances
        of the sun.
    Therefore, as one renowned for deeds and deathless, him the Muses
        shall exalt,
    The daughters of Memory, exalting so the glory of Stranger-guarding
        Jove, and the honor of friendship firm.

With regard to this ideal, four things are especially noteworthy;
_first_, that it took an exhaustive survey of man's nature and
relations; _second_, that it called for strong, persistent, heroic
effort; _third_, that it tended to sink the individual in the social
whole and the universal order; _fourth_, that its aim was, on the whole,
a static perfection. The first two were merits; the second two,
demerits. The first merit prevented the Greeks from pursuing one-sided
systems of education; the second, from trying to turn education into a
means of amusement. Aristotle says distinctly, "Education ought
certainly not to be turned into a means of amusement; for young people
are not playing when they are learning, since all learning is
accompanied with pain." The first demerit was prejudicial to individual
liberty, and therefore obstructive of the highest human development; the
second encouraged Utopian dreams, which, being always of static
conditions, undisturbed by the toils and throes essential to progress,
tend to produce impatience of that slow advance whereby alone man
arrives at enduring results. To this tendency we owe such works as
Plato's _Republic_ and Xenophon's _Education of Cyrus_.




CHAPTER II

BRANCHES OF GREEK EDUCATION

    With thee the aged car-borne Peleus sent me on the day whereon from
    Phthia to Agamemnon he sent thee, a mere boy, not yet acquainted
    with mutual war or councils, in which men rise to distinction--for
    this end he sent me forth to teach thee all these things, to be a
    speaker of words and a doer of deeds.--(_Phœnix in_) Homer.

    Above all and by every means we provide that our citizens shall have
    good souls and strong bodies.--Lucian.


Life is the original school--life, domestic and social. All other
schools merely exercise functions delegated by the family and by
society, and it is not until the latter has reached such a state of
complication as to necessitate a division of labor that special schools
exist. Among the Homeric Greeks we find no mention of schools, and the
only person recorded as having had a tutor is Achilles, who was sent
away from home so early in life as to be deprived of that education
which he would naturally have received from his father. In what that
education consisted, we learn from the first quotation at the head of
this chapter. It consisted in such training as would make the pupil "a
speaker of words and a doer of deeds"--a man eloquent and persuasive in
council, and brave and resolute on the field of battle. For these ends
he required, as Lucian says, a good soul and a strong body.

These expressions mark the two great divisions into which Greek
education at all periods fell--MENTAL EDUCATION and PHYSICAL
EDUCATION--as well as their original aims, viz. goodness (that is,
bravery) of soul and strength of body. As time went on, these aims
underwent considerable changes, and consequently the means for attaining
them considerable modifications and extensions. Physical education aimed
more and more at beauty and grace, instead of strength, while mental
education, in its effort to extend itself to all the powers of the mind,
divided itself into literary and musical education.

As we have seen, the Greeks aimed at developing all the powers of the
human being in due proportion and harmony. But, in course of time, they
discovered that the human creature comes into the world with his powers,
not only undeveloped, but already disordered and inharmonious; that not
only do the germs of manhood require to be carefully watched and tended,
but also that the ground in which they are to grow must be cleared from
an overgrowth of choking weeds, before education can be undertaken with
any hope of success. This clearing process was called by the later
Greeks _Katharsis_, or Purgation, and played an ever-increasing part in
their pedagogical systems. It was supposed to do for man's emotional
nature what Medicine undertook to do for his body. The means employed
were mainly music and the kindred arts, which the ancients believed to
exert what we should now call a dæmonic effect upon the soul, drawing
off the exciting causes of disturbing passion, and leaving it in
complete possession of itself. It would hardly be too much to say that
the power to exert this purgative influence on the soul was regarded by
the ancients as the chief function and end of the Fine Arts. Such was
certainly Aristotle's opinion.

When purgation and the twofold education of body and mind had produced
their perfect work, the result was what the Greeks called _Kalokagathia_
(καλοκἀγαθία) that is, Fair-and-Goodness. Either half of this ideal was
named ἀρετή (_aretê_), Worth or Excellence. We are expressly told by
Aristotle (_Categories_, chap. viii.) that the adjective to ἀρετή is
σπουδαῖος (_spoudaios_), a word which we usually render into English by
"earnest." And we do so with reason; for to the Greek, Excellence or
Worth meant, above all, earnestness, genuineness, truthfulness,
thoroughness, absence of frivolity.




CHAPTER III

CONDITIONS OF EDUCATION

    Some hold that men become good by nature, others by training, others
    by instruction. The part that is due to nature obviously does not
    depend upon us, but is imparted through certain divine causes to the
    truly fortunate.--Aristotle.

    It is not merely begetting that makes the father, but also the
    imparting of a noble education.--John Chrysostom.

    There are two sorts of education, the one divine, the other human.
    The divine is great and strong and easy; the human small and weak
    and beset with many dangers and delusions. Nevertheless, the latter
    must be added to the former, if a right result is to be
    reached.--Dion Chrysostom.

    The same thing that we are wont to assert regarding the arts and
    sciences, may be asserted regarding moral worth, viz. that the
    production of a completely just character demands three
    conditions--nature, reason, and habit. By "reason" I mean
    instruction, by "habit," training.... Nature without instruction is
    blind; instruction without nature, helpless; exercise (training)
    without both, aimless.--Plutarch.


To the realization of their ideal in any individual the Greeks conceived
three conditions to be necessary, (1) a noble nature, (2) persistent
exercise or training in right action, (3) careful instruction. If any
one of these was lacking, the highest result could not be attained.

(1) To be well or nobly born was regarded by the Greeks as one of the
best gifts of the gods. Aristotle defines noble birth as "ancient wealth
and worth," and this fairly enough expresses the Greek view generally.
Naturally enough, therefore, the Greek in marrying looked above all
things to the chances of a worthy offspring. Indeed, it may be fairly
said that the purpose of the Greek in marriage was, not so much to
secure a helpmeet for himself as to find a worthy mother for his
children. In Greece, as everywhere else in the ancient world, marriage
was looked upon solely as an arrangement for the procreation and rearing
of offspring. The romantic, pathological love-element, which plays so
important a part in modern match-making, was almost entirely absent
among the Greeks. What love there was, assumed either the noble form of
enthusiastic friendship or the base one of free lust. In spite of this,
and of the fact that woman was regarded as a means and not as an end,
the relations between Greek husbands and wives were very often such as
to render the family a school of virtue for the children. They were
noble, sweet, and strong,--all the more so, it should seem, that they
were based, not upon a delusive sentimentality, but upon reason and a
sense of reciprocal duty.

(2) The value of exercise, practice, habituation, seems to have been far
better understood by the ancients than by the moderns. Whatever a man
has to do, be it speaking, swimming, playing, or fighting, he can learn
only by doing it; this was a universally accepted maxim. The modern
habit of trying to teach languages and virtues by rules, not preceded by
extensive practice, would have seemed to the ancients as absurd as the
notion that a man could learn to swim before going into the water.
Practice first; theory afterwards: do the deed, and ye shall know of
the doctrine--so said ancient Wisdom, to which the notion that children
should not be called upon to perform any act, or submit to any
restriction, without having the grounds thereof explained to them, would
have seemed the complete inversion of all scientific method. It was by
insisting upon a certain practice in children, on the ground of simple
authority, that the ancients sought to inculcate the virtues of
reverence for experience and worth, and respect for law.

(3) The work begun by nature, and continued by habit or exercise, was
completed and crowned by instruction. This had, according to the Greek,
two functions, (_a_) to make action free, by making it rational, (_b_)
to make possible an advance to original action. Nature and habit left
men thralls, governed by instincts and prescriptions; instruction,
revelation of the grounds of action, set them free. Such freedom, based
on insight, was to the thinkers of Greece the realization of manhood, or
rather, of the divine in man. "The truth shall make you free"--no one
understood this better than they. Hence, with all their steady
insistence upon practice in education, they never regarded it as the
ultimate end, or as any end at all, except when guided by insight, the
fruit of instruction. A practicality leading to no widening of the
spiritual horizon, to no freeing insight, was to them illiberal,
slavish, paltry--"banausic," they said,--degrading both to body and
soul.




CHAPTER IV

SUBJECTS FOR EDUCATION

    It is right that Greeks should rule over barbarians, but not
    barbarians over Greeks; for those are slaves, but these are free
    men.--Euripides.

    Barbarian and slave are by nature the same.--Aristotle.

    Nature endeavors to make the bodies of freemen and slaves different;
    the latter strong for necessary use, the former erect and useless
    for such operations, but useful for political life.... It is
    evident, then, that by nature some men are free, others slaves, and
    that, in the case of the latter, slavery is both beneficial and
    just.--_Id._

    Instruction, though it plainly has power to direct and stimulate the
    generous among the young ... is as plainly powerless to turn the
    mass of men to nobility and goodness (_Kalokagathia_). For it is not
    in their nature to be guided by reverence, but by fear, nor to
    abstain from low things because they are disgraceful, but (only)
    because they entail punishment.--_Id._


In thinking of Greek education as furnishing a possible model for us
moderns, there is one point which it is important to bear in mind: Greek
education was intended only for the few, for the wealthy and well-born.
Upon all others, upon slaves, barbarians, the working and trading
classes, and generally upon all persons spending their lives in pursuit
of wealth or any private ends whatsoever, it would have seemed to be
thrown away. Even well-born women were generally excluded from most of
its benefits. The subjects of education were the sons of full citizens,
themselves preparing to be full citizens, and to exercise all the
functions of such. The duties of such persons were completely summed up
under two heads, duties to the family and duties to the State, or, as
the Greeks said, œconomic and political duties. The free citizen not
only acknowledged no other duties besides these, but he looked down upon
persons who sought occupation in any other sphere. Œconomy and Politics,
however, were very comprehensive terms. The former included the three
relations of husband to wife, father to children, and master to slaves
and property; the latter, three public functions, legislative,
administrative, and judiciary. All occupations not included under these
six heads the free citizen left to slaves or resident foreigners.
Money-making, in the modern sense, he despised, and, if he devoted
himself to art or philosophy, he did so only for the benefit of the
State. If he improved the patrimony which was the condition of his free
citizenship, he did so, not by chaffering or money-lending, but by
judicious management, and by kindly, but firm, treatment of his slaves.
If he performed any great artistic service to the State--for example, if
he wrote a tragedy for a State religious festival (and plays were never
written for any other purpose)--the only reward he looked forward to was
a crown of olive or laurel and the respect of his fellow-citizens.

The Greeks divided mankind, in all the relations of life, into two
distinct classes, a governing and a governed, and considered the former
alone as the subject of education; the latter being a mere instrument in
its hands. The governing class required education in order that it
might govern itself and the other class, in accordance with reason and
justice; that other, receiving its guidance from the governing class,
required no education, or only such as would enable it to obey. It
followed that the duty of the governing class was to govern; of the
governed, to obey. Only in this correlation of duties did each class
find its usefulness and satisfaction. Any attempt to disturb or invert
this correlation was a wilful running in the teeth of the laws of
nature, a rebellion against the divine order of things.

As husband, father, master in the family, and as legislator, officer,
judge in the State, each member of the governing class found his proper
range of activities; and he did wrong, degrading himself to the level of
the serving class, if he sought any other. This view, in a more or less
conscious form, pervades the whole ancient world, conditioning all its
notions and theories of education; and Paul the Apostle only echoed it
when he said to wives: "Wives, be in subjection to your own husbands as
to the Lord"; to children: "Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for
this is right"; and to slaves: "Slaves, be obedient unto them that
according to the flesh are your masters with fear and trembling, in
singleness of heart, as unto Christ."




CHAPTER V

EDUCATION AS INFLUENCED BY TIME, PLACE, AND CIRCUMSTANCES

    The peculiar character of each form of government is what
    establishes it at the beginning and what usually preserves it....
    Since the whole State has but one end, it is plainly necessary that
    there should be one education for all the citizens.--Aristotle.


Education among the Greeks, as among every other progressive people,
varied with times and circumstances. The education of the Homeric Greeks
was not that of the Athenians in the days of Aristotle, nor the latter
the same as the education of the contemporary Spartans or Thebans.
Moreover, the education actually imparted was not the same as that
demanded or recommended by philosophers and writers on pedagogics. It is
true that the aim was always the same; Worth, Excellence,
Fair-and-Goodness (ἀρετή, καλοκἀγαθία); but this was differently
conceived and differently striven after at different times and in
different places.

Among the Homeric Greeks, as we have seen, education, being purely
practical, aiming only at making its subject "a speaker of words and a
doer of deeds," was acquired in the actual intercourse and struggles of
life. The simple conditions of their existence demanded no other
education and, consequently, no special educational institutions. These
conditions, as described by Homer, though by no means barbarous, are
primitive. Nomadism has long been left behind and the later
village-communities have been mostly merged in walled towns, generally
situated at some distance from the shore, on or near a hill, whose
summit forms a citadel for refuge in cases of danger. Even in the most
advanced of these towns, however, the type of civilization is still
largely patriarchal. The government is in the hands of chiefs or kings
(βασιλῆες) claiming to be born and bred of Jove, as, indeed, in a sense,
they were, since they ruled quite as much by right of personal worth,
which more than anything is due to the grace of God, as by hereditary
title. Worth in those days consisted in physical strength, courage,
beauty, judgment, and power to address an assembly, and any king proving
deficient in these qualities would soon have found his position
insecure, or been compelled to fortify it by lawless tyranny. The
functions devolving upon the king were mainly three, those of judge,
military commander, and priest. The first required judgment and ready
speech; the second, strength and intelligent courage; the third,
personal beauty and dignity. Though the kings were allowed to exercise
great power, this was not irresponsible or arbitrary. On the contrary,
it was compatible with great public freedom in speech and action.
Slavery existed only to a limited extent and in a mild form. All free
heads of families, however poor, had a right to attend the popular
assembly, which the king consulted on all important matters, and at
which the freëst discussion was allowed. When the kings exercised
judicial power, they did so in accordance with certain _themistes_ or
laws, held to have originated with Zeus, and not according to their own
caprice. As there was little commerce in those days, the inhabitants of
the ancient cities, when not engaged in warfare, devoted themselves
chiefly to agriculture, cattle-raising, and the useful arts. In these
even the kings thought it no shame to engage. We find Paris helping to
build his own palace, Odysseus constructing his own bed, Lycaon cutting
wood to make chariot-rails, and so on. Similarly, we find Helen and
other princesses spinning and weaving, while Nausicaa, the daughter of
the Phæacian king, washes the clothes of the family.

In such a primitive society, unacquainted with letters, the higher
education found but few aspirants. The only persons of scientific
pretensions mentioned by Homer are the physicians (who are likewise
surgeons) and the soothsayers. The former are highly appreciated, and
are always chiefs. The soothsayers are the exponents of divine omens to
the community, and occupy a kind of official position, like the Hebrew
prophets. No artists, strictly speaking, are mentioned by Homer, except
the bard, and he is much honored, as historian, teacher, and inspirer.
We find, indeed, that Achilles and Paris are proficients in music; but
such cases seem exceptional. Of artisans, several are mentioned--the
worker in wood, the worker in horn and ivory, the potter (who uses the
wheel), and so on. The existence of others is implied--the weaver, the
mason, the metal-worker, etc.

If there were no special schools in the heroic age, life was so lived as
to be an excellent school. Then, as at all other times, it was
extremely social, far more so than our modern life. This was due chiefly
to three causes, (1) the smallness of the states, which made it possible
for every citizen to know, and to feel his solidarity with, every other,
(2) the absence of titles and formalities, which had not yet been
introduced from the East, (3) the fact that the people, especially the
men, spent the greater part of the day in the open air,--in the streets
and agora,--and so were continually rubbing against each other. This
sociality had much to do with the shaping of the Greek character, the
salient elements of which are thus enumerated by Zeller, the historian
of Greek philosophy: "A strong sense of freedom, combined with a rare
susceptibility to proportion, form, and order, a keen relish for
companionship in life and action, a social tendency which compelled the
individual to combine with others, to submit to the general will, to
follow the traditions of his family and his community."

Between the simple social condition described by Homer and that for
which Aristotle wrote, there intervened a period of at least six hundred
years. During that time many great changes took place in the social and
political life of the Greeks, demanding corresponding changes in
education. These changes were due to several causes, (1) the natural
human tendency toward freedom, (2) the influence of foreign nations, (3)
the development of commerce, (4) the introduction of letters, (5) the
rise of philosophy, (6) the Persian Wars. Though all these are closely
interwoven with each other, there can be no harm in treating them
separately.

(1) The tendency toward freedom, so essentially characteristic of human
nature, was especially so of the nature of the Greeks. Among them it
rapidly manifested itself in an ordered series of political forms,
beginning with patriarchalism, and ending variously in the various
states and races. There is, indeed, hardly a single form of political
life that was not realized among the Greeks at some time or place. It
was this that made it possible for Aristotle to write a work on Politics
which, in the words of a recent political writer, "has remained for two
thousand years one of the purest sources of political wisdom."

The varied and changeful political life of the Greeks was in itself a
great education. It made them aware of the principles, political and
ethical, upon which society rests, and rendered necessary a faculty of
clear and ready expression, which reacted most favorably upon their
intellectual and æsthetic faculties. It was in the school of practical
politics that the Greeks acquired their rhetoric; and Aristotle, in his
treatise on Poetry, tells us that, while "the older poets made their
characters talk like statesmen, the later ones made theirs talk like
rhetoricians." Not only, indeed, did political life react upon the
drama, but, in developing rhetoric, it drew attention to language and
led to the sciences of grammar and logic, both of which were thus called
into existence by real social needs (see p. 102).

(2) Greece, lying, as it did, between three continents, and in the
thoroughfare of the ancient nations, could hardly fail to be visited by
many different races, or, considering its beauty and commercial
advantages, to be coveted by them. From this followed two consequences,
(_a_) that the Greeks were a very mixed race, (_b_) that they were, from
the first and at all times, in manifold contact with foreign peoples.
That they were a mixed race, is attested alike by their language, their
mythology, and their legends. That they were in close and continual
communication with foreign peoples, is rendered evident by their
alphabet, their art, and the direct statements of their historians.
Although it is true that the Greeks, especially after the Persian Wars,
regarded themselves as a superior and chosen people, calling all others
"barbarians," and considering them as fit only to be slaves, it is not
the less true that hardly one of all the arts and sciences which they
ultimately carried to a high degree of perfection had its origin in
Greece proper. All appear first in the colonies settled among
"barbarians,"--in Egypt, Asia Minor, Thrace, Crete, Sicily, or Italy.
Architecture, sculpture, painting, poetry--epic, lyric, dramatic--music,
history, politics, philosophy, were all borrowed, transformed, and, with
the exception perhaps of tragedy and painting, carried to a high degree
of excellence in the colonies, before they were transplanted to the
mother-country. It is beyond any doubt that even the Homeric legends are
of "barbarian" origin, though from what people they were borrowed is
uncertain. It was the plasticity and versatility of their character, due
in part to their mixed blood, that, by enabling them to appropriate and
assimilate the arts and sciences of their neighbors, raised the Greeks
to a new plane of civilization and made them the initiators of a new
epoch in history, the epoch of life according to reason. Sir Henry
Sumner Maine says, "Except the blind forces of Nature, nothing moves in
this world which is not Greek in its origin."

(3) It was chiefly through commerce that the arts and sciences borrowed
by the colonial Greeks found their way into Greece proper. That foreign
art-objects were introduced into it at an early period, is rendered
certain by the recent discoveries at Mycenæ, Sparta, and other places,
as well as by statements in the Homeric poems. That these were followed
later by artists, bringing with them foreign art-processes and
appliances, is equally certain. The earliest sculptors whose names are
known to us, Dipœnis and Scyllis, were natives of Crete, settled in
Sicyon; and the earliest poetic guild of which we have any mention is
that of the Homeridæ in the island of Chios. But, besides introducing
art and artists into Greece, commerce tended to educate the Greeks in
other ways. It made them acquainted with foreign manners and luxuries,
and forced them to learn the arts of navigation, ship-building and
exchange, which again rendered necessary an acquaintance with arithmetic
and the art of writing. And this leads us to

(4) The Introduction of Letters. This event, the date of which is
uncertain, not only exercised a most furthering influence on the arts
and sciences, but gave rise to a new branch of education. Letters were
probably first used for diplomatic and trade purposes, then for
inscriptions, and last of all for the perpetuation of literary
productions. So much of a change did they effect in Greek education that
even in the best times the whole of the literary and scientific
education was called simply "letters" (γράμματα). As late as the time of
Plato letters seem to have been considered a part of Music, and to have
been taught by the same teacher as the latter; but Aristotle already
distinguishes the two. It is extremely probable that the introduction of
letters was the immediate cause of the establishment of schools for
youth; for we find no mention of them prior to that event.

(5) The introduction of letters was closely followed by the rise of
Philosophy, or the reflective spirit. Up to about the year 600 B.C., the
Greeks, like the rest of the world, lived by habit, tradition, and
prescription, handed on, with little or no criticism, from generation to
generation. Their ideal world was shaped by the works of Homer and
Hesiod. "Hesiod is the teacher of most," says Heraclitus. About the date
named, however, society having advanced to a condition of organization
which made possible a leisure class, there begins to appear a new
spirit, destined to revolutionize, not only Greece, but the whole world.
Armed with a _what?_ a _which?_ a _why?_ and a _wherefore_? it no longer
blindly accepts the world of nature and man, but calls upon it to give
an account of itself. Science, philosophy, and art are the result.

At first the new spirit turns to nature with a _what?_; but, gradually
discovering that the answer to this brings no complete explanation of
the world, it propounds its other questions. It thus arrives at a
consciousness of four distinguishable elements in the constitution of
things,--four causes (αἴτια, αἰτίαι), as they were termed,--(1) matter,
(2) form, (3) efficiency, (4) end or aim. At the same time, and by the
same process, it is forced to a recognition of the presence of reason
(λόγος) and intelligence (νοῦς) in the world, since form, efficiency,
and aim all presuppose both. It is thus compelled to turn from nature to
man, and man's mind, as the highest known expression of reason and
intelligence, and to devote itself to the consideration of spirit, as
alone promising any true explanation of the world. The process is a slow
and difficult one, and the history of it is the history of Greek
science, philosophy, and art.

Before the rise of philosophy, the teacher of the people had been the
rhapsode, or public reciter; after that event he gradually gives place
to the sophist (σοφιστής, one who makes wise), or, as he later with more
modesty calls himself, the philosopher (φιλόσοφος, lover of wisdom). The
history of Greece for centuries is, on its inner side, a history of the
struggle between what the rhapsode represents and what the philosopher
represents, between popular tradition and common sense on the one hand,
and individual opinion and philosophy on the other. The transition from
the first to the second of these mental conditions was accomplished for
the world, once for all, by the Greeks, and the turning-point in the
process is marked by

(6) The Persian Wars (B.C. 490-479). The victories gained in these at
Marathon, Salamis, and Platææ, victories the most brilliant that history
records, exerted a most powerful influence upon the thought and life of
the Greeks. The consciousness of having, with their small numbers, over
and over again, both by land and by sea, discomfited and crushed the
countless hosts of an empire which for generations had threatened their
peace and liberty, made them at once feel the superiority of their own
characters and civil institutions to those of the Persians, and draw a
clear line of demarcation between Greek and barbarian. From this point
on, they felt themselves to be a chosen people, a nation destined by the
gods to rule all others. "The soul of Greece had conquered the bulk of
Persia." Persia was bulk and body; Greece was soul and spirit. This
conviction appears at once in all the departments of Greek life. In the
sphere of art we may instance the _Prometheia_ of Æschylus and the
Parthenon. In the former, what does the conflict between Zeus and
Prometheus mean but the conflict between Greek spirituality, intellect,
and freedom, on the one hand, and barbarian materiality, instinct, and
thraldom or necessity, on the other? And what is the latter but a
matchless pæan in stone to Divine Wisdom, as the conqueror of brute
force? In the sphere of thought, we find Parmenides, Anaxagoras and,
above all, Socrates (born ten years after the second Persian War),
turning consciously to the study of spirit. "To be and to think are the
same thing," says the first of these: "All things were confused; then
Mind came and reduced them to order," says the second; "Know thyself" is
the chosen motto of the third. In the political sphere we find the
Athenians trying to make the State an instrument of intelligence and
virtue, and insisting upon education as a means thereto. Other and less
desirable results followed from the Persian Wars; but these can be
better stated and estimated in another connection.

Such were the chief causes that contributed to transform the simple
patriarchal State of the Homeric Greeks, with its purely practical
education at home and in the field, into the free polity of the Greeks
of the days of Miltiades, Themistocles, and Æschylus, with its
complicated institutions and manifold education. It has seemed better to
enumerate these causes than to try to trace the steps of the
transformation itself. Indeed this would have been a hopeless task,
owing to the lack of historical data.




CHAPTER VI

EPOCHS IN GREEK EDUCATION

    When they (our ancestors) began to enjoy leisure for thought, as the
    result of easy circumstances, and to cherish more exalted ideas with
    respect to worth, and especially when, in the period before and
    after the Persian Wars, they came to entertain a high opinion of
    themselves, on account of their achievements, they pursued all kinds
    of education, making no distinction, but beating about
    generally.--Aristotle.


In treating of Greek education subsequent to the introduction of letters
and the establishment of schools, we shall be obliged, in the interest
of clearness, to make three distinctions:--

(1) Between the educational systems of different periods.

(2) Between the educational systems of different peoples and states.

(3) Between the education actually imparted in the various states, and
that recommended by theorists or philosophers.

In pursuance of the first, it will be convenient first to distinguish
two main periods, the Hellenic, and the Hellenistic, and then to
subdivide these into minor periods.

I. _The Hellenic Period_ (776-338 B.C.). This includes, roughly
speaking, the whole historic life of free Greece, from the date of the
first Olympiad to that of the absorption of Greece into the Macedonian
Empire. It naturally subdivides itself into two periods, (_a_) 776-450;
(_b_) 450-338.

(_a_) That of the "Old Education," authoritative and puritanical, whose
aim was the training of good citizens, god-fearing, law-abiding,
patriotic, and brave.

(_b_) That of the "New Education," rationalistic and "liberal," whose
aim was the training of formidable individuals, self-centred,
law-despising, time-serving, and cunning.

It is in the struggle between the two systems, and in the practical
triumph of the latter, that Greece loses her moral fibre; so that her
citizens, weakened through sundering selfishness, fall an easy prey to
the foreign invader.

II. _The Hellenistic Period_ (338 B.C.-313 A.D.). This extends from the
Battle of Chæronea, in which Greece lost her independence, to the
definitive triumph of Christianity, which brought a new ideal and a new
spirit into life and education. It naturally subdivides itself into two
periods, (_a_) B.C. 338-146; (_b_) B.C. 146-A.D. 313.

(_a_) The Macedonian Period, during which Macedonian influence
prevailed, and Greek thought and education, absorbing foreign, chiefly
Oriental, elements, tended toward an encyclopædic cosmopolitanism.
During this period, Alexandria is the centre of Greek influence.

(_b_) The Roman Period, during which, as Horace says, "Captive Greece
took captive her rude conqueror," and Rome became, alongside Alexandria,
a diffusive centre of Greek thought, art, and education.

Between the two great periods, the Hellenic and the Hellenistic, stands
the man who draws up the testament of the former and outlines the
programme of the latter, the Macedonian Greek, Aristotle.

Our second distinction will lead us to treat separately, in the Hellenic
period, the educational system of the three Greek races, (1) the Æolic,
(2) the Doric, (3) the Ionic, the first having its chief centre at
Thebes, the second at Sparta, the third at Athens. For an account of the
education of the first our data are but meagre; with the main features
of Spartan and Athenian education we are well acquainted. In education,
as in everything, Sparta was conservative, socialistic, and
aristocratic, while Athens tended to liberalism, individualism, and
democracy. Hence Sparta clung desperately to the "Old Education," and
almost closed her doors against art, letters, and philosophy, while
Athens, dragged into the "New Education," became the home of all these.
It must always be borne in mind that, in favoring individualism and the
"New Education," Athens was abandoning the Hellenic ideal, and paving
the way for the cosmopolitanism of the Hellenistic period. In this
latter, we shall have to distinguish between the educational systems of
Athens, Alexandria, and Rome.

Our third distinction is that between individual theory and popular
practice. In all epochs of their history the Greek states produced men
who strove to realize in thought and imagination the ideal of their
people, and to exhibit it as an aim, an encouragement, and an
inspiration, in contrast with the imperfect actual. In more than one
case this ideal modified the education of the following periods. Of
course, such theories did not arise until practice was compelled to
defend itself by producing sanctions, either in religion or in reason,
and it may perhaps be affirmed that the aim of them all was to discover
such sanctions for the Greek ideal. Among the many educational theorists
of Greece, there are six who especially deserve to be considered: (1)
Pythagoras, who in Southern Italy sought to graft on the Doric ideal a
half-mystical, half-ethical theology, and a mathematical theory of the
physical world; (2) Xenophon, who sought to secure the same ideal by
connecting it with a monarchical form of government; (3) Plato, who
sought to elevate it, and find a sanction for it in his theory of
super-sensuous ideas; (4) ARISTOTLE, who presented in all its fulness
the Hellenic ideal, and sought to find sanctions for it in history,
social well-being, and the promise of a higher life; (5) Quintilian,
who, in Rome, embodies the rhetorical or worldly education of the
Hellenistic period; and (6) Plotinus, who presents an ideal of
philosophical or other-worldly education, and paves the way for the
triumph of Christian dogma.




BOOK II

THE HELLENIC PERIOD (B.C. 776-338)




PART I

THE "OLD EDUCATION" (B.C. 776-480)




CHAPTER I

EDUCATION FOR WORK AND FOR LEISURE

    When we consider the different arts that have been discovered, and
    distinguish between those which relate to the necessary conditions
    of life and those which contribute to the free enjoyment of it
    (διαγωγή), we always consider the man who is acquainted with the
    latter wiser than him who is acquainted with the former, for the
    reason that the sciences of the latter have no reference to use.
    Hence it was only when all the necessary conditions of life had been
    attained that those arts were discovered which have no reference
    either to pleasure or to the common needs of life; and this took
    place first in those countries where men enjoyed
    leisure.--Aristotle.

    The free life of God is such as are our brief best moments.--_Id._

    It is not fitting that the free enjoyment of life should be
    permitted to boys or to young persons; for the crown of perfection
    belongs not to the imperfect.--_Id._

    Obviously, the free enjoyment of life demands not only the noble but
    also the pleasant; for happiness consists of these too.--_Id._


Among the Homeric Greeks, whose life was almost entirely devoted to
practical pursuits, education was mainly practical, aiming to produce "a
speaker of words and a doer of deeds." As civilization advanced, and
higher political forms were evolved, certain classes of men found
themselves blessed with leisure which they were not inclined to devote
to mere play. In order to make a worthy use of this leisure, they
required a certain training in those arts which were regarded as
befitting a free man. Education, accordingly, in some states, widened
its scope, to include those accomplishments, which enable men to fill
their hours of freedom with refined and gracious enjoyment--music and
letters. Music, indeed, had been cultivated long before, not only by
professional bards, but even by princes, like Achilles and Paris; this,
however, was for the sake of amusement and recreation rather than of the
free enjoyment of life. It had been regarded as a means, not as an end.
We must be careful, in our study of Greek life and education, not to
confound play and recreation, which are for the sake of work, with the
free enjoyment of life, which is an end in itself, and to which all work
is but a means. "Enjoyment is the end." We shall see, as we proceed, to
what momentous results this distinction leads, how it governs not only
all education but all the institutions of life, and how it finally
contributes to break up the whole civilization which it determines. It
may fairly be said that Greece perished because she placed the end of
life in individual æsthetic enjoyment, possible only for a few and
regarding only the few.

In historic Greece, music came to be an essential part of the education
of every free man. Even free women learnt it. Along with music went
poetry, and when this came to be written down, it was termed "letters."
As every free man came to be his own minstrel and his own rhapsode, the
professional minstrel and rhapsode disappeared, and the Homeric poems
even, in order to be preserved from oblivion, were committed to writing
by an enlightened tyrant--Pisistratus.

The first portion of the Greek people that attained a degree of
civilization demanding an education for hours of leisure, was the Æolian
race, and particularly the Asiatic portion of it. Accordingly we find
that all the earliest musicians and poets, didactic and lyric, are
Æolians--Hesiod, Terpander, Arion, Alcæus, Sappho, Pittacus, etc. Lesbos
seems to have taken the lead in this "higher education." The last five
names all belong to that island, which produced also the earliest Greek
historian and prose-writer--Hellanicus. But the Æolians, though earliest
in the field, were soon outstripped by the other two races, the Doric
and the Ionic. Æolian education and culture never advanced beyond music
and lyric poetry. It knew no drama, science, or philosophy.

The Æolians were followed, almost simultaneously, by the Dorians and
Ionians, who pursued two widely divergent directions. The former
borrowed the lyric education and culture of the Æolians, and produced
several lyric poets of distinguished merit--Tyrtæus, Alcman, Ibycus,
Stesichorus: nay, they even advanced far enough to take the first steps
in science, philosophy, and dramatic poetry. Pythagoras, Epicharmus,
Sophron, Xenarchus, and Susarion were all Dorians. But the progress of
the race was retarded and finally checked by rigid political
institutions of a socialistic character, which, by suppressing
individual initiative, reduced the whole to immobility.

The Ionians, on the contrary, borrowing freely from both Æolians and
Dorians, and evolving ever freer and freer institutions, carried
education and culture to a point which has never been passed, and
rarely, if ever, reached, in the history of our race. And when they
ceased to grow, and decay set in, this was due to exactly the opposite
cause to that which stunted them among the Dorians; namely, to excessive
individualism, misnamed liberty. Individualism ruined Athens.

Although education assumed different forms among different portions of
the Greek race, there are certain features that seem to have been common
to all these forms during the epoch of the "Old Education." Two of these
deserve attention.

_First._ Education was everywhere a branch of statecraft, and the State
itself was only the highest educational institution. This was equally
true whether the schools were public, as at Sparta, or private, as at
Athens. Everywhere citizenship was a degree, conferred only upon sons of
free citizens, after a satisfactory examination (δοκιμασία).

_Second._ The stages or grades of education were everywhere the same,
although their limits were not everywhere marked by the same number of
years. The first, extending usually from birth to the end of the seventh
year, was that of home education; the second, extending from the
beginning of the eighth year to the end of the sixteenth or, perhaps
oftener, the eighteenth year, was that of school education; the third,
extending from the beginning of the seventeenth or nineteenth year to
the end of the twentieth (in Sparta of the thirtieth), was that of
college education, or education for the duties of citizenship; the
fourth, including the remainder of life, was that of university
education, or education through the State, which then was the only
university. At the beginning of the third period, the young men took
their first State examination, and if they passed it successfully, they
received the degree of Cadet or Citizen-novice (ἔφηβος); but it was only
at the beginning of the fourth period, and after they had passed a
second examination (δοκιμασία εἰς ἄνδρας), that they received the degree
of Man and Citizen and were permitted to exercise all the functions of
freemen. The State then became, in a very real sense, their _Alma
Mater_.

In most states, this graded education fell only to the lot of males, the
education of females stopping short with the first grade, the family,
which was regarded as their only sphere. It was otherwise at Sparta,
Teos, and apparently among the Æolians generally. As a consequence it is
only among the Æolians and Dorians that any poetesses of note
appear--Sappho, Corinna, Telesilla, etc. Although, however, woman's
sphere was the family, and she was considered to have done her duty when
she worthily filled the place of wife, mother, and mistress, there was
nothing to prevent her from acquiring the higher education, if she chose
to do so. That she did not often so choose, seems true; still there are
examples of learned women even among the Athenians. The daughter of
Thucydides is said to have continued his history after his death, and,
whether the statement be true or not, the fact that it was made shows
that the ability to write history was not regarded as impossible or
surprising in a woman.




CHAPTER II

ÆOLIAN OR THEBAN EDUCATION

    Hesiod is the teacher of most.--Heraclitus.

    When thou art dead, thou shalt lie in the earth.
    Not even the memory of thee shall be
    Thenceforward nor forever; for thou hast
    No share in the Pierian roses; but
    Ev'n in the halls of Hades thou shalt flit,
    A frightened shadow, with the shadowy dead.
    --Sappho (_to an uneducated woman_).

    What rustic hoyden ever charms the soul,
    That round her ankles cannot kilt her coats?--_Id._


The Æolians appear to have been the earliest of the Greek races to make
any considerable advance in culture. Their claim to Homer can hardly be
sustained; but they certainly produced Hesiod, most of the greater lyric
poets and poetesses, and the first historian. For a time they bade fair
to lead the culture of Greece. But the promise was not fulfilled. During
the palmy period of Greek history, they were not only the most
uncultured and uncouth of the Greeks, but they even prided themselves
upon their boorishness of speech and manner, and derided culture. In the
glorious struggle in which Greece maintained the cause of culture and
freedom against Persia, Thebes, then the chief centre of Æolianism,
sided with the barbarian, as, indeed, was natural.

Theban education was, of course, a reflex of the character of the Theban
and, indeed, of the Bœotian, people. Its main divisions were those of
Greek education generally,--Gymnastics and Music; but the former was
learnt solely for athletic purposes, and the latter mainly for use at
banquets and drinking-bouts, in which the Bœotians found their chief
delight. Letters were studied as little as at Sparta (see p. 47), and
the language of the people remained harsh and unmusical. Of higher
education there was hardly a trace. The sophists passed Bœotia by. Even
Pindar, who was by birth a Theban, and a sincerely patriotic one, sought
and found recognition anywhere rather than among his own people. He did
not even write in their dialect.

The reason for this backwardness on the part of the Bœotian Æolians lay
in the fact that they lived, as a conquering race, in the midst of a
people superior to them in every respect save strength, and could
maintain their ascendency only by brute force. When this failed, and the
conquered race, which had never forgotten Cadmus and its ancient
traditions, came to the front, education and culture found their way
even to Thebes. It was due to this change in political conditions that a
Pindar could arise, and it was doubtless the demand for culture
consequent thereupon that induced certain members of the scattered
Pythagorean school (see p. 54) to seek refuge in Thebes and there devote
themselves to teaching. Among these were Philolaus[1] and Lysis, the
latter of whom was probably the author of the famous "Golden Words"
(see p. 57). But he has a better claim to fame than this; for he was the
teacher of the bravest and most lovable man that Greece ever
produced--Epaminondas.

If any enthusiastic believer in the power of education desire to fortify
his cause by means of a brilliant example, he will find none superior to
Epaminondas; for there can hardly be any question that it was the
earnest, systematic, religious, and moral Pythagorean training which he
received from the aged Lysis, whom he treated as a father, that made him
what he was, and enabled him to do what he did,--which was nothing less
than to place Thebes at the head of Greece. Thebes rose and fell with
Epaminondas. But that was not all. It was the example of Epaminondas
that kindled the ambition of Philip of Macedon, who was educated under
his eye, and of his far more famous son, Alexander, who made all Greece
a province of his empire. Pythagoras, Lysis, Epaminondas, Philip,
Alexander--in five brief generations an earnest teacher conquers a
world!

From the time of Epaminondas on, Thebes followed the ordinary course of
Greek education.




CHAPTER III

DORIAN OR SPARTAN EDUCATION

    Go, tell at Sparta, thou that passest by,
    That here, obedient to her laws, we lie.
    --Simonides (_Epitaph on the Three Hundred who fell at Thermopylæ_).

    This is a matter for which the Lacedæmonians deserve approbation:
    they are extremely solicitous about the education of their youth and
    make it a public function.--Aristotle.

    The Lacedæmonians impart to their children the look of wild beasts,
    through the severity of the exercises to which they subject them,
    their notion being that such training is especially calculated to
    heighten courage.--_Id._

    These are so far behind in education and philosophy that they do not
    learn even letters.--Isocrates.

    OLD MEN. We _were_ once strong men (youths).

    MEN. And we _are_; if you will, behold.

    BOYS. And we _shall be_ far superior.--_Spartan Choric Anthem._

    They asked no clarion's voice to fire
      Their souls with an impulse high:
    But the Dorian reed and the Spartan lyre
      For the sons of liberty!
    So moved they calmly to their field,
      Thence never to return,
    Save bearing back the Spartan shield,
      Or on it proudly borne!--Hemans.

    There was a law that the cadets should present themselves naked in
    public before the ephors every ten days; and, if they were well knit
    and strong, and looked as if they had been carved and hammered into
    shape by gymnastics, they were praised; but if their limbs showed
    any flabbiness or softness, any little swelling or suspicion of
    adipose matter due to laziness, they were flogged and justiced there
    and then. The ephors, moreover, subjected their clothing every day
    to a strict examination, to see that everything was up to the mark.
    No cooks were permitted in Lacedæmon but flesh-cooks. A cook who
    knew anything else was driven out of Sparta, as physic for
    invalids.--Ælian.


Every rational system of education is determined by some aim or ideal
more or less consciously set up. That of the Dorians, and particularly
of the Spartans, may be expressed in one word--STRENGTH, which, in the
individual, took the form of physical endurance, in the State, that of
self-sufficiency (αὐτάρκεια). A self-sufficient State, furnishing a
field for all the activities and aspirations of all its citizens, and
demanding their strongest and most devoted exertions--such is the Dorian
ideal. It is easy to see what virtues Dorian education would seek to
develop--physical strength, bravery, and obedience to the laws of the
State. Among the Dorians the human being is entirely absorbed in the
citizen. The State is all in all.

The Dorian ideal realized itself chiefly in two places, Crete and
Sparta. Both these were repeatedly held up in ancient times as models of
well-governed states, and even Plato puts the substance of his _Laws_
into the mouth of a Cretan.

About the details of Cretan education we are but poorly informed. Two
things, however, we know: (1) that Lycurgus, the reputed founder of
Spartan education, was held to have drawn many of his ideas from Crete,
and (2) that the final result of Cretan education--and the same is true
of all education that merges the man in the citizen--was, in spite of
its strictness, demoralizing. The character of the people was summed up
by their poet Epimenides, a contemporary of Solon's, in a famous line
quoted by St. Paul, "The Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, lazy
bellies."

With regard to Spartan education our information is much greater, and we
may therefore select it as the type of Dorian education generally.

The Peloponnesian Dorians having, through contact with the more
civilized peoples whom they conquered, lost much of that rigorous
discipline and unquestioning loyalty which made them formidable, were,
in the ninth century B.C., becoming disorganized, so that in two of the
Dorian states they were assimilated by the native population, the
Argives and the Messenians. The same process was rapidly going on in the
third state, Lacedæmon, when Lycurgus, fired with patriotic zeal,
resolved to put an end to it, by restoring among his people the old
Dorian military discipline. To prepare himself for this task, he visited
Crete and studied its institutions. On his return he persuaded his
countrymen to submit to a "Constitution," which ever afterwards went by
his name. This constitution included a scheme of education, whose aim
was a thorough training of the whole of the free citizens, both male and
female, (1) in physical endurance, and (2) in complete subordination to
the State. The former was sought to be imparted by means of a rigorous
and often cruel, system of gymnastics; the latter, through choric music
and dancing, including military drill. Spartan education, therefore, was
confined to two branches, Gymnastics and Music. Instruction in letters
was confined to the merest elements. Sparta accordingly never produced a
poet, an historian, an artist, or a philosopher of any note. Even the
arrangers of her choruses were foreigners--Tyrtæus, Terpander, Arion,
Alcman, Thaletas, Stesichorus.

As Spartan education was nothing more or less than a training for
Spartan citizenship, we must preface our account of it by a few words on
the Spartan State.

The government of Sparta was in the hands of a closed aristocracy, whose
sole aim was the maintenance of its own supremacy, as against (1)
foreign enemies, (2) _Perioikoi_, or disfranchised native citizens, (3)
Helots, or native serfs. To secure this, it formed itself into a
standing army, with a strict military organization. Sparta, its one
abode, was a camp; all free inhabitants were soldiers. Though they were
compelled to marry, the city contained no homes. The men and, from the
close of their seventh year, the boys, lived in barracks and ate at
public tables (_Phiditia_). The women had but one recognized function,
that of furnishing the State with citizens, and were educated solely
with a view to this. No other virtue was expected of them. Aristotle
tells us that "they lived in every kind of profligacy and in luxury."
Polyandry was common, and, when a woman lost all her husbands, she was
often compelled to enter into relations with slaves, in order that she
might not fail in her political duty.

Among a people organized on the basis of brute force, it were vain to
look for any of the finer traits of human nature--gentleness,
tenderness, sympathy, pity, mercy. The mercilessness and cruelty of the
Spartans were proverbial. Perioikoi and Helots incurring the displeasure
or suspicion of the authorities were secretly put to death, without even
the form of a trial. A striking instance of such cruelty is recorded by
Thucydides. The facts are thus stated by Grote (_History of Greece_,
vol. ii, pp. 376-7): "It was in the eighth year of the Peloponnesian
War, after the Helots had been called upon for signal military efforts
in various ways, ... that the ephors felt especially apprehensive of an
outbreak. Anxious to single out the most forward and daring Helots, as
men from whom they had most to dread, they issued proclamation that
every member of that class who had rendered distinguished services
should make his claim known at Sparta, promising liberty to the most
deserving. A large number of Helots came forward to claim the boon: not
less than two thousand of them were approved, formally manumitted, and
led in solemn procession round the temples, with garlands on their
heads, as an inauguration to their coming life of freedom. But the
treacherous garland only marked them out as victims for sacrifice: every
man of them forthwith disappeared; the manner of their death was an
untold mystery."

Spartan education was entirely conducted by the State, at the expense of
the State, and for the ends of the State. It differed in this respect
from nearly every other system of Greek education. It was divided into
four periods, corresponding respectively to childhood, boyhood, youth,
and manhood.

(_a_) CHILDHOOD.--As soon as the Spartan child came into the world, the
State, through officers appointed for that purpose, sent to examine it.
If it seemed vigorous, and showed no bodily defect, it was permitted to
live, and forthwith adopted by the State; otherwise it was carried to
the mountains and thrown over a precipice. The children accepted by the
State were for the next seven years left in charge of their mothers,
but, doubtless, still under State surveillance. Just how they were
trained during these years, we do not know. We can only guess that they
underwent very much the same process as other Greek children, any
difference being in the direction of rigor. As the details of Greek
education generally will be dealt with under the head of Athens, they
may be omitted here.

(_b_) BOYHOOD.--On completing his seventh year, the Spartan boy was
transferred from his mother's house and care to a public barracks and
the direct tuition of the State. Although the boys were in charge of a
special officer (παιδονόμος), who divided them into squads and
companies, and arranged their exercises for them, they were nevertheless
taught to regard every grown man as a teacher, and every such man was
expected to correct them promptly and rigorously, whenever he saw them
doing wrong. At the same time, every boy was expected to form an
intimate connection with some one man, who then, to a large extent,
became responsible for his conduct; and, though the choice in this
matter rested with the parties concerned, it was considered a disgrace
in a man, no less than in a boy, to be without such connection. Though
this arrangement, it is said, often led to lamentable abuses, there can
be no doubt that it admirably served the purposes of Sparta. It
furnished every boy with a tutor, who, under the circumstances, could
hardly fail to treat him kindly, and who was interested in making him
surpass all other boys in courage and endurance. This friendly influence
of teacher on pupil was something in which the Greeks at all times
strongly believed, and which formed an important force in all their
education. In Sparta, as in Crete and Thebes, it was legally recognized.
One of the duties of Spartan "inspirer" (εἰσπνήλας or εἴσπνηλος), as he
was called, was to teach his young friend (ἀΐτας) to demean himself
properly on all occasions, and to hold his tongue except when he had
something very important to say. In this way it was that the young
Spartans received their moral education, and acquired that effective
brevity of speech which to this day we call "laconic."

The formal education of Spartan boys consisted mainly of gymnastics,
music, choric dancing, and larceny. Their literary education was
confined to a little reading, writing, and finger-arithmetic; everything
beyond this was proscribed. And the reasons for this proscription are
not difficult to discover. Sparta staked everything upon her political
strength, and this involved two things, (1) equality among her free
citizens, and (2) absolute devotion on their part to her interest, both
of which the higher education would have rendered impossible. Education
establishes among men distinctions of worth quite other than military,
and gives them individual interests distinct from those of the State. It
was the same reason that induced Rome, during the best period of her
history, to exclude her citizens from all higher education, which is
essentially individual and cosmopolitan.

The education of the Spartan boys was conducted mostly in the open air
and in public, so that they were continually exposed to the cheers or
scoffs of critical spectators, to whom their performances were a
continual amusement of the nature of a cock-fight. Whether the different
"inspirers" betted on their own boys may be doubtful; but they certainly
used every effort to make them win in any and every contest, and the
"inspirer" of a "winning" boy was an envied man. The result was that
many boys lost their lives amid cheers, rather than incur the disgrace
of being beaten. Inasmuch as the sole purpose of gymnastics was strength
and endurance; of dancing, order; and of music, martial inspiration, it
is easy to see what forms these studies necessarily assumed; and we need
only stop to remark that Dorian music received the unqualified
approbation of all the great educational writers of antiquity,--even of
Aristotle, who had only words of condemnation for Spartan gymnastics.

There was only one branch of Spartan school-education that was not
conducted in public, and that was larceny. The purpose of this curious
discipline was to enable its subjects to act, on occasion, as detectives
and assassins among the ever discontented and rebellious Helots. How
successful it was, may be judged from the incident recorded on page 45.
Larceny, when successfully carried out under difficult circumstances,
was applauded; when discovered, it was severely punished. A story is
told of a boy who, rather than betray himself, allowed a stolen fox,
concealed under his clothes, to eat out his entrails.

In one respect Spartan education may claim superiority over that of most
other Greek states: it was not confined to one sex. Spartan girls,
though apparently permitted to live at home, were subjected to a course
of training differing from that of their brothers only in being less
severe. They had their own exercise-grounds, on which they learnt to
leap, run, cast the javelin, throw the discus, play ball, wrestle,
dance, and sing; and there is good evidence to show that their exercises
had an admirable effect upon their physical constitution. That the
breezy daughters of Sparta were handsomer and more attractive than the
hot-house maidens of Athens, is a well-attested fact. Many Spartan women
continued their athletic and musical exercises into ripe womanhood,
learning even to ride spirited horses and drive chariots. If we may
believe Aristotle, however, the effect of all this training upon their
moral nature was anything but desirable. They were neither virtuous nor
brave.

(_c_) YOUTH.--About the age of eighteen, Spartan boys passed into the
class of _epheboi_, or cadets, and began their professional training for
war. This was their business for the next twelve years, and no light
business it was. For the first two years they were called _melleirenes_,
and devoted themselves to learning the use of arms, and to light
skirmishing. They were under the charge of special officers called
_bideoi_, but had to undergo a rigid examination before the ephors every
ten days (see p. 41). Their endurance was put to severe tests. Speaking
of the altar of Artemis Orthia, Pausanias says: "An oracle commanded the
people to imbrue the altar with human blood, and hence arose the custom
of sacrificing on it a man chosen by lot. Lycurgus did away with this
practice, and ordained that, instead, the cadets should be scourged
before the altar, and thus the altar is covered with blood. While this
is going on, a priestess stands by, holding, in her arms the wooden
image (of Artemis). This image, being small, is, under ordinary
circumstances, light; but, if at any time the scourgers deal too lightly
with any youth, on account of his beauty or his rank, then the image
becomes so heavy that the priestess cannot support it; whereupon she
reproves the scourgers, and declares that she is burdened on their
account. Thus the image that came from the sacrifices in the Crimea has
always continued to enjoy human blood." This Artemis appears, with a
bundle of twigs in her arm, next to Ares, among the Spartan divinities,
on the frieze of the Parthenon. At twenty years of age, the young men
became _eirenes_, and entered upon a course of study closely resembling
actual warfare. They lived on the coarsest food, slept on reeds, and
rarely bathed or walked. They exercised themselves in heavy arms, in
shooting, riding, swimming, ball-playing, and in conflicts of the most
brutal kind. They took part in complicated and exhausting dances, the
most famous of which was the Pyrrhic, danced under arms. They manned
fortresses, assassinated Helots, and, in cases of need, even took the
field against an enemy.

(_d_) MANHOOD.--At the age of thirty, being supposed to have reached
their majority, they fell into the ranks of full citizens, and took
their share in all political functions. They were compelled to marry,
but were allowed to visit their wives only rarely and by stealth. They
sometimes had two or three children before they had ever seen their
wives by daylight. When not engaged in actual war, they spent much of
their time in watching the exercises of their juniors, and the rest in
hunting wild boars and similar game in the mountains. Like Xenophon,
they thought hunting the nearest approach to war.

Such was the education that Sparta gave her sons. That it produced
strong warriors and patriotic citizens, there can be no doubt. But that
is all: it produced no men. It was greatly admired by men like Xenophon
and Plato, who were sick of Athenian democracy; but Aristotle estimated
it at its true worth. He says: "As long as the Laconians were the only
people who devoted themselves to violent exercises, they were superior
to all others; but now they are inferior even in gymnastic contests and
in war. Their former superiority, indeed, was not due to their training
their young men in this way, but to the fact that they alone did so."
And even Xenophon, at the end of a long panegyric on the Spartan
constitution, is obliged to admit that already in his time it has fallen
from its old worth into feebleness and corruption, and this in spite of
the fact that he had his own sons educated at Sparta. When Sparta fell
before the heroic and cultured Epaminondas, she fell unpitied, leaving
to the world little or nothing but a warning example.




CHAPTER IV

PYTHAGORAS

    Virtue and health and all good and God are a harmony.--Pythagoras.

    One is the principle of all.--Philolaus the Pythagorean.

    All things that are known have number.--_Id._

    The principles of all virtue are three, knowledge, power, and
    choice. Knowledge is like sight, whereby we contemplate and judge
    things; power is like bodily strength, whereby we endure and adhere
    to things; choice is like hands to the soul, whereby we stretch out
    and lay hold of things.--Theages the Pythagorean.


The Doric discipline, even in Sparta, where it could exhibit its
character most freely, produced merely soldiers and not free citizens or
cultivated men. It was, nevertheless, in its essential features, the
Hellenic ideal, and numerous attempts were made to remedy its defects
and to give it permanence, by connecting it with higher than mere local
and aristocratic interests. One of the earliest and most noteworthy of
these was made by Pythagoras.

This extraordinary personage appears to have been born in the island of
Samos in the first quarter of the sixth century B.C. Though he was born
among Ionians, his family appears to have been Achaian and, to some
extent, Pelasgian (Tyrrhenian), having emigrated from Phlius in the
Argolid. After distinguishing himself in Ionia, he emigrated in middle
life to Magna Græcia, and took up his abode in the Achaian colony of
Croton, then a rich and flourishing city. The cause of his emigration
seems to have been the tyranny of Polycrates, which apparently imparted
to him a prejudice against Ionic tendencies in general. Whether he
derived any part of his famous learning from visits to Egypt, Phœnicia,
Babylonia, etc., as was asserted in later times, is not clear. It is not
improbable that he visited Egypt, and there is good reason for believing
that he became acquainted with Phœnician theology through Pherecydes of
Syros. That he was an omnivorous student is attested by his
contemporary, Heraclitus. He was undoubtedly affected by the physical
theories current in his time in Ionia, while he plainly drew his
political and ethical ideas from Sparta or Crete.

Of his activity in Ionia we know little; but we may perhaps conclude
that it was of the same nature as that which he afterwards displayed in
Italy. Here he appeared in the triple capacity of theologian, ethical
teacher, and scientist. His chief interest for us lies in the fact that
he was apparently the first man in Greece, and, indeed, in the western
world, who sought to establish an ethical institution apart from the
State. In this respect he bears a strong resemblance to the prophet
Isaiah, who may be said to have originated the idea of a Church (see p.
133). Pythagoras' aim seems to have been to gather round him a body of
disciples who should endeavor to lead a perfect life, based upon certain
theological or metaphysical notions, and guided by a rule of almost
monastic strictness. Like other men who have found themselves in the
midst of irreverence, selfishness, and democratic vulgarity and anarchy,
he believed that his time demanded moral discipline, based upon respect
for authority and character, with a firm belief in future retribution,
and inculcated by a careful study of the order and harmony of nature;
and such discipline he strove, with all his might, to impart. Having no
faith in the capacity of the State to be an instrument for his purpose,
he set to work independently of it, and seems to have met with very
marked success, drawing to him many of the best men and women of
Southern Italy. So numerous and powerful, indeed, did his followers
become that they held the balance of power in several cities, and were
able to use it for the enforcement of their own principles. As these
were exceedingly undemocratic, and opposed to the tendencies of the
time, they finally roused bitter opposition, so that the Pythagoreans
were persecuted and attempts made to exterminate them with fire and
sword. In this way their political influence was broken, and their
assemblies suppressed; but the effect of Pythagoras' teaching was not
lost. His followers, scattered abroad throughout the Hellenic world,
carried his precepts and his life-ideal with them. In the following
centuries they found many noble sympathizers--Pindar, Socrates, Plato,
Epicharmus, etc.--and underwent many modifications, until they finally
witnessed a resurrection, in the forms of Neo-Pythagoreanism and
Neo-Platonism, after the Christian era. In these later guises,
Pythagoreanism lost itself in mysticism and contemplation, turning its
followers into inactive ascetics; but in its original form it seems to
have been especially adapted to produce men of vigorous action and
far-sighted practicality. Milo of Croton, the inimitable wrestler;
Archytas of Tarentum, philosopher, mathematician, musician, inventor,
engineer, general, statesman; and Epaminondas, the greatest and noblest
of Theban generals, were professed Pythagoreans.

We might perhaps express the aim of Pythagoras' pedagogical efforts by
the one word HARMONY. Just as he found harmony everywhere in the
physical world, so he strove to introduce the same into the constitution
of the human individual, and into the relations of individuals with each
other. He may perhaps be regarded as the originator of that view of the
world, of men, and of society which makes all good consist in order and
proportion, a view which recommends itself strongly to idealists, and
has given birth to all those social Utopias, whose static perfection
seems to relieve the individual from the burden of responsibility, and
which have been dangled before the eyes of struggling humanity from his
days to ours. According to this view, which had its roots in Greek
thought generally, the aim of education is to find for each individual
his true place and to make him efficient therein. Man is made for order,
and not order for man. He is born into a world of order, as is shown by
the fact that number and proportion are found in everything that is
known. Pythagoras, in his enthusiasm for his principle, carried his
doctrine of numbers to absurd lengths, identifying them with real
things; but this enthusiasm was not without its valuable results, since
it is to Pythagoras and his school that we owe the sciences of geometry
and music. Moreover, experience must have taught him that it is one
thing to propound a theory, another to make it effective in regulating
human relations. In order to accomplish the latter object, he invoked
the aid of divine authority and of the doctrines of metempsychosis and
future retribution. Hence his educational system had a strong religious
cast, which showed itself even outwardly in the dignified demeanor and
quiet self-possession of his followers.

Harmony, then, to be attained by discipline, under religious sanctions,
was the aim of Pythagoras' teaching. Believing, however, that only a
limited number of persons were capable of such harmony, he selected his
pupils with great care, and subjected them to a long novitiate, in which
silence, self-examination, and absolute obedience played a prominent
part. The aim of this was to enable them to overcome impulse,
concentrate attention, and develop reverence, reflection, and
thoughtfulness, the first conditions of all moral and intellectual
excellence. While the first care was directed to their spiritual part,
their bodies were by no means forgotten. Food, clothing, and exercise
were all carefully regulated on hygienic and moral principles.

Regarding the details of Pythagoras' educational system we are not well
informed; but the spirit and tendency of it have been embalmed for us in
the so-called _Golden Words_, which, if not due to the pen of Pythagoras
himself, certainly reach back to very near his time, and contain nothing
at variance with what we otherwise know of his teaching. We insert a
literal version.

THE GOLDEN WORDS.

    The Gods immortal, as by law disposed,
    First venerate, and reverence the oath:
    Then to the noble heroes, and the powers
    Beneath the earth, do homage with just rites.

    Thy parents honor and thy nearest kin,
    And from the rest choose friends on virtue's scale.
    To gentle words and kindly deeds give way,
    Nor hate thy friend for any slight offence.
    Bear all thou canst; for Can dwells nigh to Must.
    These things thus know.

                          What follow learn to rule:
    The belly first, then sleep and lust and wrath.
    Do nothing base with others or alone:
    But most of all thyself in reverence hold.

    Then practise justice both in deed and word,
    Nor let thyself wax thoughtless about aught:
    But know that death's the common lot of all.

    Be not untimely wasteful of thy wealth,
    Like vulgar men, nor yet illiberal.
    In all things moderation answers best.

    Do things that profit thee: think ere thou act.

    Let never sleep thy drowsy eyelids greet,
    Till thou hast pondered each act of the day:
    "Wherein have I transgressed? What have I done?
    What duty shunned?"--beginning from the first,
    Unto the last. Then grieve and fear for what
    Was basely done; but in the good rejoice.

    These things perform; these meditate; these love.
    These in the path of godlike excellence
    Will place thee, yea, by Him who gave our souls
    The number Four, perennial nature's spring!
    But, ere thou act, crave from the gods success.

    These precepts having mastered, thou shalt know
    The system of the never-dying gods
    And dying men, and how from all the rest
    Each thing is sunder'd, and how held in one:
    And thou shalt know, as it is right thou shouldst,
    That nature everywhere is uniform,
    And so shalt neither hope for things that lie
    Beyond all hope, nor fail of any truth.

    But from such food abstain as we have named,
    And, while thou seek'st to purge and free thy soul,
    Use judgment, and reflect on everything,
    Setting o'er all best Thought as charioteer.

    Be glad to gather goods, nor less to lose.

    Of human ills that spring from spirit-powers
    Endure thy part nor peevishly complain.
    Cure what thou canst: 'tis well, and then reflect:
    "Fate never lays too much upon the good."

    Words many, brave and base, assail men's ears.
    Let these not disconcert or trammel thee;
    But when untruth is spoken, meekly yield.

    What next I say in every act observe:
    Let none by word or deed prevail on thee
    To do or say what were not best for thee.
    Think ere thou act, lest foolish things be done;--
    For thoughtless deeds and words the caitiff mark;--
    But strongly do what will not bring regret.
    Do naught thou dost not know; but duly learn.
    So shall thy life with happiness o'erflow.

    Be not neglectful of thy body's health;
    But measure use in drink, food, exercise--
    I mean by 'measure' what brings no distress.

    Follow a cleanly, simple mode of life,
    And guard against such acts as envy breed.
    Then, if, when thou the body leav'st, thou mount
    To the free ether, deathless shalt thou be,
    A god immortal,--mortal never more!


In this system six things are noteworthy: (1) Its comprehensiveness, in
that it takes account of man's whole nature,--body, soul, and spirit;
affections, intellect, and will, and of all his relations--to gods and
men, to self and nature: (2) Its aimfulness, in that it promises
happiness here and blessedness hereafter, as the reward of right living:
(3) Its piety, in that it everywhere recognizes the need of divine
assistance: (4) Its appreciation of science, as insight into the nature
and grounds of multiplicity and unity: (5) Its stress laid on right
doing, as the condition of right knowing: (6) Its belief in man's
divinity and perfectibility. It is curious that the poem contains no
reference to the doctrine of metempsychosis, which might apparently have
been appealed to as a powerful moral sanction.

That a system like that of Pythagoras, combining the religious, the
mystical, the scientific, the ethical, and the social tendencies of the
Hellenic mind, should have exerted a deep and abiding influence, need
not surprise us. We find profound traces of it, not only in all
subsequent Greek thought, but even in foreign systems, such as Essenism,
whose elements were Hebrew Nazarenism and Greek Pythagoreanism. The
relations between Essenism and Christianity have not yet been
determined. Of the effect of Pythagoras' teaching on Epaminondas I have
already spoken.




CHAPTER V

IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION

    Let me now give an account of the Old Education, when I, uttering
    words of justice, was in my prime, and self-control was held in
    respect. In the first place, a child was not allowed to be heard
    uttering a grumble. Then all the boys of the quarter were obliged to
    march in a body, in an orderly way and with the scantest of
    clothing, along the streets to the music master's, and this they did
    even if it snowed like barley-groats. Then they were set to rehearse
    a song, without compressing their thighs,--either "Pallas, mighty
    city-stormer," or "A shout sounding far," putting energy into the
    melody which their fathers handed down. And, if any one attempted
    any fooling, or any of those trills like the difficult inflexions _à
    la_ Phrynis now in vogue, he received a good threshing for his
    pains, as having insulted the Muses. Again, at the physical
    trainer's, the boys, while sitting, were obliged to keep their legs
    in front of them.... And at dinner they were not allowed to pick out
    the best radish-head, or to snatch away anise or celery from their
    elders, or to gourmandize on fish and field-fares, or to sit with
    their legs crossed.... Take courage, young man, and choose me, the
    Better Reason, and you shall know how to hate the public square, to
    avoid the bath-houses, to be ashamed of what is shameful, to show
    temper when any one addresses you in ribald language, to rise from
    your seat when your elders approach, and not to be a lubber to your
    own parents, or to do any other unseemly thing to mar the image of
    Modesty, or to rush to the house of the dancing-girl, and, while you
    are gaping at her performances, get struck with an apple by a wench
    and fall from your fair fame, or to talk back to your father, or,
    addressing him as Japhet, to revile the old age which made the nest
    for you.... Then, fresh and blooming, you will spend your time in
    the gymnasia, and not go about the public square, mouthing monstrous
    jokes, like the young men of to-day, or getting dragged into
    slippery, gumshon-bamboozling disputes, but, going down to the
    Academy, with some worthy companion of your own age, you will start
    a running-match, crowned with white reed, smelling of smilax,
    leisure and deciduous white poplar, rejoicing in the spring, when
    the plane-tree whispers to the maple. If you do the things which I
    enjoin, and give your mind to them, you will always have a
    well-developed chest, a clear complexion, broad shoulders, and a
    short tongue.--Aristophanes, _Clouds_ (_Speech of Right Reason_).

    In their systems of education, some states strive to impart a
    courageous habit to their people from their very childhood by a
    painful and laborious training, whereas we, though living in a free
    and natural way, are ready to meet them in a fair field with no
    favor.--Pericles' _Funeral Oration_ (_Thucydides_).

    I will never disgrace these sacred arms, nor desert my companion in
    the ranks. I will fight for temples and public property, both alone
    and with many. I will transmit my fatherland, not only not less, but
    greater and better, than it was transmitted to me. I will obey the
    magistrates who may at any time be in power. I will observe both the
    existing laws and those which the people may unanimously hereafter
    make, and, if any person seek to annul the laws or to set them at
    nought, I will do my best to prevent him, and will defend them both
    alone and with many (all?). I will honor the religion of my fathers.
    And I call to witness Aglauros, Enyalios, Ares, Zeus, Thallo, Auxo,
    and Hegemone.--_Oath of the Athenian Epheboi._

    Consider, Men of Athens, what careful provision was made by Solon,
    the ancient lawgiver, by Draco, and other lawgivers of that period,
    for the cultivation of good morals. In the first place, they made
    laws to secure a moral education for our children, and laid down, in
    plain terms, just what the free-born boy should study and how he
    should be nurtured; secondly, they made regulations regarding young
    men; and, thirdly, with regard to the other periods of life in their
    order, including both private persons and public speakers; and,
    having recorded these laws, they left them in your keeping,
    appointing you their guardians.--Æschines (_against Timarchus_).


If systems of education are to be classified according to their
results--and these are perhaps the fairest test--then the "Old
Education" of Athens must be assigned a very high place. The character
which she displayed, and the exploits which she performed, in the early
decades of the fifth century B.C., bear unequivocal testimony to the
value of the training to which her citizens had previously been
subjected. This training could perhaps hardly be better characterized
than by the word "puritanical." The men who fought at Marathon, Salamis,
and Platææ were puritans, trained, in a hard school, to fear the gods,
to respect the laws, their neighbors, and themselves, to reverence the
wisdom of experience, to despise comfort and vice, and to do honest
work. They were not enfeebled by æsthetic culture, paralyzed by abstract
thinking, or hardened by professional training. They were educated to be
men, friends, and citizens, not to be mere thinkers, critics, soldiers,
or money-makers. It was against a small band of such men that the hosts
of Persia fought in vain.

It is natural that this "Old Education" of Athens should have a special
interest for us, inasmuch as it seems, in great measure, to have solved
the problem that must be uppermost with every true educator and friend
of education, viz. How can strong, wise, and good men be produced? For
this reason, as also because we are the better informed regarding the
educational system of Athens than that of any other Greek state, it
seems proper to devote special attention to it, treating it as
preëminently Greek education. Indeed, whatever is permanently valuable
in Greek education is to be found in that of Athens, other systems
having mainly but an historical interest for us.

In comparing the education of Athens with that of Sparta, we are at once
struck with two great distinctions: (1) While Spartan education is
public, Athenian education is mainly private; (2) While Sparta educates
for war, Athens educates for peace. As to the former of these, it is not
a little remarkable that, while many of the first thinkers of Greece,
including Plato and Aristotle, advocated an entirely public education,
Athens never adopted it, or even took any steps in that direction. It
seems as if the Athenians felt instinctively that socialistic education,
by relieving parents of the responsibility of providing for the
education of their own children, was removing a strong moral influence,
undermining the family, and jeopardizing liberty. Perhaps the example of
Sparta was not without its influence. No liberty-loving people, such as
the Athenians were, would consent to merge the family in the State, or
to sacrifice private life to public order. As to the second distinction,
which was all-pervasive, it divides the two peoples by an impassable
gulf and assigns them to two different grades of civilization. And it
was one of which both peoples were entirely conscious. While Sparta
represented her ideal by a chained Ares, Athens found hers in a Wingless
Victory, a form of Athena, the divinity of political and industrial
wisdom. As the aim of Sparta was strength, so that of Athens was
WISDOM--the wise man in the wise state. By the "wise man," was meant he
whose entire faculties of body, soul, and mind were proportionately and
coördinately developed; by the "wise state," that in which each class of
the population performed its proper function, and occupied its proper
relation toward the rest, and this without any excessive exercise of
authority. If the Spartan, like the artificially tamed barbarian,
submitted to living by rule and command, the Athenian, like the
naturally civilized man, delighted to live in a free and natural way
(ἀνειμένως διαιτᾶσθαι) governed from within, and not from without. To
make possible such life was the aim of Athenian education, which,
instead of seeking to merge the man in the State, or to rend the two
asunder, treated them as necessary correlates and strove to balance
their claims.

The endeavor on the part of Athens to steer a middle course between
socialism and individualism, is manifest in the fact that, though she
had no public system of education, she took great care to see that her
citizens were thoroughly educated in the spirit of her institutions,
and, indeed, made such education a condition of citizenship, which was
thus an academic degree, conferred only after careful examination. By a
law of Solon's, parents who had failed to give their sons a proper
education lost all claim upon them for support in their old age.
Furthermore, Athens subjected all her male citizens to a systematic
preparation for civil and military functions, before she allowed them to
exercise these.

Athenian education comprised four grades corresponding to four
institutions, (1) the family, (2) the school, (3) the gymnasium or
college, (4) the State. We may consider these in their order.


(1) FAMILY EDUCATION.

The birth of a child was regarded by the Athenians as a joyful event, as
something calling for gratitude to the gods. This expressed itself in a
family festival, called the Amphidromia, celebrated usually on the
seventh day after the birth. On this occasion, the child was carried
rapidly round the family altar and received its name. A sacrifice was
then offered to the gods, the mother was purified, and christening
presents were displayed. The child was now a member of the family and
under the protection of its gods. For the next seven years, it was
wholly in the hands of parents and nurses, the latter being usually
slaves. During this time its body was the chief object of care, and
everything seems to have been done to render it healthy and hardy.
Cradles do not seem to have been in use, and the child was sung to sleep
on the nurse's knee. While it was being weaned, it was fed on milk and
soft food sweetened with honey. As soon as it was able to move about and
direct attention to external objects, it received playthings, such as
rattles, dolls of clay or wax, hobby-horses, etc., and was allowed to
roll and dig in the sand. Such were the simple gymnastics of this early
period. As to the other branch of education, it consisted mostly in
being sung to and in listening to stories about gods and heroes,
monsters and robbers, of which Greek mythology was full. By means of
these the child's imagination was roused and developed, and certain
æsthetic, ethical, and national prepossessions awakened. Though children
were often frightened from certain acts and habits by threats of bogles
coming to carry them off, yet the chief ethical agency employed was
evidently strict discipline. To secure good behavior in his children was
the first care of the Athenian parent. Though disinclined to harshness,
he never doubted that "he who spareth the rod hateth the child."
Children were never placed upon exhibition or applauded for their
precocious or irreverent sayings. They were kept as much as possible out
of the way of older people, and, when necessity brought them into the
presence of these, they were taught to behave themselves quietly and
modestly. No Greek author has preserved for us a collection of the smart
sayings or roguish doings of Athenian children.

Though the Kindergarten did not exist in those old days, yet its place
was, in great measure, filled by the numerous games in which the
children engaged, in part at least under their nurses' superintendence.
Games played so important a part in the whole life of the Greek people,
and especially of the Athenians, that their importance in the education
of children was fully recognized and much attention devoted to them.
During play, character both displays itself more fully, and is more
easily and deeply affected, than at any other time; and, since the whole
of the waking life of the child in its earliest years is devoted to
play, this is the time when character is formed, and therefore the time
which calls for most sedulous care. In playing games, children not only
exercise their bodies and their wits; they also learn to act with
fairness, and come to feel something of the joy that arises from
companionship and friendly rivalry in a common occupation. Moreover, as
games have no end beyond themselves, they are admirable exercises in
free, disinterested activity and a protection against selfish and sordid
habits. Of all this the Athenians were fully aware.

There are probably few games played by children in our day that were not
known in ancient Athens. It seems, however, that games were there
conducted with more system, and a deeper sense of their pedagogical
value, than they are with us. We hear of running, leaping, hopping,
catching, hitting, and throwing games, gymnastic games, and games of
chance. The ball, the top, the hoop, the swing, the see-saw, the
skipping rope, the knuckle-bones were as much in use in ancient, as in
modern, times. Cards, of course, there were not; and, indeed, games of
chance, though well known, seem rarely to have been indulged in by
children. It hardly seems necessary to remark that there were some games
peculiar to boys and others to girls, and that the latter were less rude
than the former. Doubtless, too, the games played in the city, where the
children would have few chances of going beyond their homes, were
different from those played in the country, where almost complete
freedom to roam in the open air was enjoyed. We must always bear in mind
that well-to-do Athenian families spent the greater part of the year at
their country-houses, which, with few exceptions, were so near the city
that they could be reached even on foot in a single day. This country
life had a marked effect upon the education of Athenian children.


(2) SCHOOL EDUCATION.

About the age of seven, the Athenian boy, after being entered on the
roll of prospective citizens in the temple of Apollo Patroös, and made a
member of a phratria, went to school, or, rather, he went to two
schools, that of the music-master, and that of the physical trainer. He
was always accompanied thither and back by a _pedagogue_, who was
usually a slave, who carried his writing-materials, his lyre, etc.
(there being no school-books to carry), and whom he was expected
implicitly to obey. The boys of each quarter of the city collected every
morning at some appointed place and walked to school, like little
soldiers, in rank and file. They wore next to no clothing, even in the
coldest weather, and were obliged to conduct themselves very demurely in
the streets. The school hours were very long, beginning early in the
morning and continuing till late in the evening. Solon found it
necessary to introduce a law forbidding schoolmasters to have their
schools open before sunrise or after sunset. It thus appears that boys,
after the age of seven, spent their whole day at school, and were thus
early withdrawn from the influence of their mothers and sisters, a fact
which was not without its bearing upon morals.

There are several interesting points in connection with Athenian school
life about which our information is so scanty that we are left in some
doubt respecting them. For example, though it is quite plain that Athens
had no system of public instruction, it is not so clear that she did not
own the school buildings. Again, it is not certain whether music
(including letters) and gymnastics were, or were not, taught in the same
locality. Thirdly, there is some doubt about the number and order of the
hours devoted to each of the two branches of study. In regard to these
points I can state only what seems to me most probable.

As to school buildings, we are expressly told by the author of the
fragmentary tract on _The Athenian State_, currently attributed to
Xenophon, but probably written as early as B.C. 424, that "the people
(δῆμος) builds itself many palæstras, dressing-rooms, baths, and the
masses have more enjoyment of these than the few that are well-to-do."
If we assume that some of these palæstras were for boys, as we
apparently have a right to do, we must conclude that some, at least, if
not all, of the schools for bodily training were public edifices, let
out by the State to teachers. Like all the great gymnasia, some, and
possibly all, of them were situated outside the city walls and had
gardens attached to them. Whether the music-schools were so likewise, is
doubtful, and this brings us to our second question--whether the two
branches of education were taught in the same place. That they were not
taught in the same room, or by the same person, is clear enough; but it
does not follow from this that they were not taught in the same
building, or at any rate in the same enclosed space. Though there seems
to be no explicit statement in any ancient author on this point, I think
there are sufficient reasons for concluding that, generally at least,
they were so taught. If we find that Antisthenes, Plato, and Aristotle,
who may be said to have introduced a systematic "higher education" into
Athens, opened their schools in the great public gymnasia, frequented by
youths and men, we may surely conclude that the lower mental education
was not separated from the physical. In the _Lysis_ of Plato, we find
some young men coming out of a palæstra outside the city walls, and
inviting Socrates to enter, telling him that their occupation (διατριβή)
consists _mostly_ in discussions (τὰ πολλὰ ἐν λόγοις), and that their
teacher is a certain Miccus, an admirer of his. Socrates recognizes the
man as a capable "sophist," a term never used of physical trainers. On
entering, Socrates finds a number of boys and youths (νεανίσκοι) playing
together, the former having just finished a sacrifice. It seems to
follow directly from this that intellectual education was imparted in
the palæstras. If this be true, we may, I think, conclude that in Athens
the schools generally were outside the city walls, though the case was
certainly different in some other cities.

In regard to our third question, it is clear that, if boys spent their
whole day in one place, it would be more easy to divide it profitably
between musical instruction and gymnastics than if they spent one part
of it in one place, and another in another. Just how it was divided, we
do not know, and I have little doubt that much depended upon the notions
of parents and the tendencies of different periods. It is quite clear,
from certain complaints of Aristotle's, that in Athens parents enjoyed
great liberty in this matter. In any case, since, as we know, the
institutions of education were open all day, it seems more than probable
that one class of boys took their gymnastic lesson at one hour, another
at another, and so with other branches of study. It cannot be that the
physical training-schools were deserted when the music-schools were in
session. I think there is sufficient reason for believing that,
generally, the younger boys took their physical exercises in the
morning, and their intellectual instruction in the afternoon, the order
being reversed in the case of the older boys. How much of the time spent
at school was given up to lessons and how much to play, is not at all
clear; but I am inclined to think that the playtime was at least as long
as the worktime. The schools were for boys what the agora and the
gymnasium were for grown men--the place where their lives were spent.

Before we consider separately the two divisions of Athenian education, a
few facts common to them may be mentioned. In the first place, they had
a common end, which was, to produce men independent but respectful,
freedom-loving but law-abiding, healthy in mind and body, clear in
thought, ready in action, and devoted to their families, their
fatherland, and their gods. Contrary to the practice of the Romans, the
Athenians sought to prepare their sons for independent citizenship at as
early an age as possible. In the second place, the motives employed in
both divisions were the same, viz. fear of punishment and hope of
reward. As we have seen, the Athenian boy, if he behaved badly, was not
spared the rod. As an offset against this, when he did well, he received
unstinted praise, not to speak of more substantial things. Education,
like everything else in Greece, took the form of competition. The
Homeric line (_Il._, vi, 208; xi, 784),

    "See that thou ever be best, and above all others distinguished,"

was the motto of the Athenian in everything. In the third place, in both
divisions the chief aim was the realization of capacity, not the
furthering of acquisition. Mere learning and execution were almost
universally despised in the old time, while intelligence and capacity
were universally admired. In the fourth place, in both divisions the
utmost care was directed to the conduct of the pupils, so that it might
be gentle, dignified, and rational. In the fifth place, education in
both its branches was intended to enable men to occupy worthily and
sociably their leisure time, quite as much as to prepare them for what
might be called their practical duties in family, society, and State.
The fine arts, according to the Greeks, furnished the proper amusements
for educated men (πεπαιδευμένοι).


(α) _Musical (and Literary) Instruction_.

Though the Greek word _music_ (μουσική) came in later times to have an
extended meaning, in the epoch of which we are treating, it included
only music in our sense, and poetry, two things which were not then
separated. Aristophanes, as late as B.C. 422, can still count upon an
audience ready to laugh at the idea of giving instruction in astronomy
and geometry, as things too remote from human interests (_Clouds_, vv
220 sqq.). The poetry consisted chiefly of the epics of Homer and
Hesiod, the elegiacs of Tyrtæus, Solon, Theognis, etc., the iambics of
Archilochus, Simonides, etc., and the songs of the numerous lyrists,
Terpander, Arion, Alcæus, Alcman, Sappho, Simonides, etc. The music was
simple, meant to "sweeten" (ἡδύνειν) the words and bring out their
meaning. In fact, the music and the poetry were always composed
together, so that the poet was necessarily also a musician. What we call
"harmony" was unknown in Greek music at all times, and instrumental
music was almost entirely confined to solo-playing.

In treating of Athenian, and, indeed, of all Greek, education, it is of
the utmost importance to realize that the intellectual and moral part of
it has music and poetry for its starting-point. This is the core round
which everything else gathers; this is what determines its character,
influence, and ideal. Culture, as distinguished from nature, is the
material of Athenian intellectual and moral education; and by this is
meant, not the history or theory of culture, as it might be set forth in
prose, but culture itself, as embodied in the ideals and forms of
music-wedded poetry, appealing to the emotions that stir the will, as
well as to the intelligence that guides it.

By making the works of the great poets of the Greek people the material
of their education, the Athenians attained a variety of objects
difficult of attainment by any other one means. The fact is, the ancient
poetry of Greece, with its finished form, its heroic tales and
characters, its accounts of peoples far removed in time and space, its
manliness and pathos, its directness and simplicity, its piety and
wisdom, its respect for law and order, combined with its admiration for
personal initiative and worth, furnished, in the hands of a careful and
genial teacher, a material for a complete education such as could not
well be matched even in our own day. What instruction in ethics,
politics, social life, and manly bearing could not find a fitting
vehicle in the Homeric poems, not to speak of the geography, the
grammar, the literary criticism, and the history which the comprehension
of them involved? Into what a wholesome, unsentimental, free world did
these poems introduce the imaginative Greek boy! What splendid ideals of
manhood and womanhood did they hold up for his admiration and imitation!
From Hesiod he would learn all that he needed to know about his gods and
their relation to him and his people. From the elegiac poets he would
derive a fund of political and social wisdom, and an impetus to
patriotism, which would go far to make him a good man and a good
citizen. From the iambic poets he would learn to express with energy his
indignation at meanness, feebleness, wrong, and tyranny, while from the
lyric poets he would learn the language suitable to every genial feeling
and impulse of the human heart. And in reciting or singing all these,
how would his power of terse, idiomatic expression, his sense of poetic
beauty and his ear for rhythm and music be developed! With what a
treasure of examples of every virtue and vice, and with what a fund of
epigrammatic expression would his memory be furnished! How familiar he
would be with the character and ideals of his nation, how deeply in
sympathy with them! And all this was possible even before the
introduction of letters. With this event a new era in education begins.
The boy now not only learns and declaims his Homer, and sings his
Simonides or Sappho, he learns also to write down their verses from
dictation, and so at once to read and to write. This, indeed, was the
way in which these two (to us) fundamental arts were acquired. As soon
as the boy could trace with his finger in sand, or scratch with a stylus
on wax, the forms of the letters, and combine them into syllables and
words, he began to write poetry from his master's dictation. The
writing-lesson of to-day was the reading, recitation, or singing-lesson
of to-morrow. Every boy made his own reading-book, and, if he found it
illegible, and stumbled in reading, he had only himself to blame. The
Greeks, and especially the Athenians, laid the greatest stress upon
reading well, reciting well, and singing well, and the youth who could
not do all the three was looked upon as uncultured. Nor could he hide
his want of culture, since young men were continually called upon, both
at home and at more or less public gatherings, to perform their part in
the social entertainment.

The strictly musical instruction of this period was almost entirely
confined to simple, strong Doric airs, sung to an accompaniment which
was played on an instrument closely resembling the modern guitar (λύρα,
κίθαρις). Complicated and wind instruments were unpopular, and the
softer or more thrilling kinds of music, Lydian, Phrygian, etc., had not
yet been introduced, at least into schools. Anything like the skill and
execution demanded of professional players, who were usually slaves or
foreigners, was considered altogether unworthy of a free man and a
citizen, and was therefore not aimed at. Fond as the Athenians were of
the fine arts, they always held professional skill in any of them,
except poetry and musical composition, to be incompatible with that
dignity and virtue which they demanded of the free citizen. A
respectable Athenian would no more have allowed his son to be a
professional musician than he would have allowed him to be a
professional acrobat.

It is difficult for us to understand the way in which the Greeks
regarded music. Inferior as their music was to ours in all technical
ways, it exerted an influence upon their lives of which we can form but
a faint conception. To them it was a dæmonic power, capable of rousing
or assuaging the passions, and hence of being used for infinite good or
evil. No wonder, then, that in their education they sought to employ
those kinds which tended to "purgation" (κάθαρσις), and to avoid those
that were exciting, sentimental, or effeminate! No wonder that they
disapproved of divorcing music from the intellectual element contained
in the words, and allowing it to degenerate into a mere emotional or
sensual luxury! Music the Greeks regarded, not indeed as a moral force
(a phrase that to them, who regarded morality as a matter of the will,
would have conveyed no meaning), but as a force whose office it was, by
purging and harmonizing the human being, to make him a fit subject for
moral instruction. Music, they held, brought harmony, first into the
human being himself, by putting an end to the conflict between his
passions and his intelligent will, and then, as a consequence, into his
relations with his fellows. Harmony within was held to be the condition
of harmony without.

In the period of which I am speaking, no distinction was yet made
between music and literature (γράμματα), both being taught by the
_citharist_ (κιθαριστής). Indeed, the term for teacher of literature
(γραμματιστής) was not then invented. But the citharist not only taught
literature: he also taught the elements of arithmetic, a matter of no
small difficulty, considering the clumsy notation then in use. This was
done by means of pebbles, a box of sand, or an abacus similar in
principle to that now used by billiard players to keep count of their
strokes.

As to the schoolrooms in ancient Athens, they were apparently simple in
the extreme; indeed, rather porches open to sun and wind than rooms in
the modern sense. They contained little or no furniture. The boys sat
upon the ground or upon low benches, like steps (βάθρα), while the
teacher occupied a high chair (θρόνος). The benches were washed,
apparently every day, with sponges. The only decorations permitted in
the schoolrooms, it seems, were statues or statuettes of the Muses and
Apollo, and the school festivals or exhibitions were regarded as
festivals in honor of these. Indeed, in Greece every sort of festival
was regarded as an act of worship to some divinity. The chief school
festival seems to have been the _Musēa_ (μουσεῖα), at which the boys
recited and sang.


(β) _Gymnastics or Bodily Training_.

Under the term _Gymnastics_ (γυμναστική), the Greeks generally included
everything relating to the culture of the body. The ends which the
Athenians sought to reach through this branch of education were health,
strength, adroitness, ease, self-possession, and firm, dignified
bearing. A certain number of boys, intending to take part in the Olympic
and other great games, were allowed to train as athletes under a gymnast
(γυμναστής, ἀλείπτης) in the public gymnasia, and under the direction of
the State; but these were exceptions. The athlete was not an ideal
person at Athens, as he was at Thebes and Sparta.

Gymnastic exercises were conducted partly in the palæstras, or wrestling
schools, partly on the race-courses, both of which were under the
direction of professional trainers (παιδοτρίβαι). In early times, the
palæstra and race-course were simply an open space covered with sand and
probably connected with the school (διδασκαλεῖον), thus corresponding to
our playground. Later, this space was partly covered over and furnished
with dressing-rooms, a bath, seats for spectators, an altar for
sacrifices, statues, etc. Of the five gymnastic exercises in which boys
were trained, all except wrestling seem to have been conducted on the
race-course, so that the palæstra was reserved for what its name
implied. It is by no means certain that every palæstra had a race-course
connected with it, at least in the time of which we are speaking, and
possibly in many cases the boys took part of their exercises in the
public race-course running from the agora to beyond the walls. Just as
the schoolroom was decorated with images of Apollo and the Muses, so the
palæstra was decorated with images of Hermes, Heracles, and Eros,
symbolizing, respectively, adroitness, human strength, and youthful
friendship. The special patron of the palæstra was Hermes, and the
gymnastic exhibition took the form of a festival to him, the Hermæa, at
which a sacrifice was offered and the boys were allowed the use of the
building to play games in, the victors wearing crowns.

It would be impossible, in a work of this compass, to enter into a
minute description of all the exercises of the Athenian palæstra. We
must be content with a general statement, which may be prefaced with the
remark that these exercises were at first light, increasing gradually in
rigor and difficulty as the strength and skill of the growing child
permitted.

The chief gymnastic exercises were five, named in this order in a famous
line of Simonides: (1) leaping, (2) running, (3) discus-throwing, (4)
javelin-casting, (5) wrestling (πάλη), which last gave the name to the
palæstra. We shall not strictly follow this order, but begin with

(1) _Running._--This was the simplest, lightest, most natural, and,
therefore, the most easily taught of exercises. It was probably also the
oldest. We find even Homer making his ideal Phæacians begin their games
with it, and this practice seems to have been general throughout
antiquity. In taking this exercise, the boys divested themselves of all
clothing and had their bodies rubbed with oil. The running appears to
have been of the simplest kind. Hurdle-races, sack-races, etc., were
apparently excluded from education. At the same time, the running was
rendered difficult by the soft sand with which the course was covered to
the depth of several inches. The races were distinguished according to
their length in furlongs or stadia: (1) the furlong-race, (2) the
double-furlong race, (3) the horse (four-furlong) race, (4) the long
race, whose length seems to have been twenty-four furlongs, or about
three miles. The stadion was = 202¼ yards English. The shorter races
called for brief concentration of energy, the longer for persistence and
endurance; all were exercises in agility; all tended to develop
lung-power.

(2) _Leaping or Jumping._--This exercise seems, in the main, to have
confined itself to the long leap. Though the high leap and the pole-jump
can hardly have been unknown, we have no evidence that they were ever
employed in the gymnastic training of boys. There may have been hygienic
reasons which forbade their use. On the other hand, boys were taught to
lengthen their leap by means of weights, somewhat similar to our
dumb-bells, carried in their hands, and swung forward in the act of
leaping. Such leaping would be an exercise for the arms, as well as for
the legs and the rest of the body. But, just as there were two exercises
intended chiefly for the legs, so there were two intended chiefly for
the arms--discus-throwing and javelin-casting.

(3) _Discus-throwing._--The modern world has been rendered very familiar
with the method of this exercise by the copies of the _discobolus_ of
Myron, preserved in Rome and extensively engraved and photographed, and
that of the _discobolus_ of Alcamenes which now stands in the Vatican
(see Overbeck, _Griech. Plastik_ vol. i, p. 276). The discus was
generally a flat, round piece of stone or metal, a sort of large quoit
with no hole in the middle, which the user sought to throw as far as he
could. The discobolus of Alcamenes shows us a youth balancing the discus
in his left hand, and taking the measure of his throw with his eye; that
of Myron shows us another in the act of throwing. He swings the discus
backward in his right hand, and bends his body forward to balance it.
His right foot, the toes contracted with effort, rests firmly on the
ground; the left is slightly lifted; the whole body is like a bent bow.
In the next instant the left foot will advance, the left hand, now
resting on the right knee, will swing backwards, the body will resume
its erect position, and the discus will be shot forward from the right
hand like an arrow. Nothing could show more clearly than does this
statue the perfect organization, symmetry, and balance which were the
aim of Greek gymnastics. Not one limb could be moved without affecting
all the rest,--which shows that the exercise extended to the whole body.

(4) _Javelin-casting._--The aim of this exercise was to develop skill
and precision of eye and hand, rather than strength of muscle. The
instrument employed was a short dagger or lance, which was aimed at a
mark. He who could hit the mark from the greatest distance was the most
proficient scholar. The spear, before being thrown, was balanced in the
right hand at the height of the ear.

(5) _Wrestling._--This very complicated exercise was evidently the
principal one in the gymnastic course, the one to which the others were
merely preparatory. It was the only one which a boy could not practice
by himself. It exercised not only the whole body, but the patience and
temper as well. The aim of the wrestler was to throw (καταβλλειν) his
antagonist. Those who took part in this exercise had their bodies rubbed
with oil and strewn with fine sand. It seems that the wrestler was
allowed to do anything he chose to his antagonist except to bite,
strike, or kick him. Before he could claim the victory he had to throw
him three times. After the contest the wrestlers scraped from their
bodies, with a strigil, the oil and dust,[2] bathed, were again rubbed
with oil, exposed their bodies to the sun, in order to dry and tan them,
and dressed. The bathing was done in cold water, and both the bathing
and the sunning were in part intended to inure the body to sudden cold
and heat, which inurement was considered a very essential part of
physical training.

Such were the chief exercises employed in the gymnastic training of the
Athenians. Thus far, we have considered the two branches of education as
conducted separately, and as not coming at any point in contact with
each other. But it would have been very unlike the Greek, and especially
the Athenian, to leave the two divisions of education unrelated and
unharmonized. And, indeed, he did not so leave them, but brought them
together in the most admirable way in what he called _orchesis_, a word
for which we have no better equivalent than

(γ) _Dancing_ (ὄρχησις, χορός).

"Dancers," says Aristotle, "by means of plastic rhythms (rhythms
reproduced in plastic forms) imitate characters, feelings, and
actions." Xenophon, in his _Anabasis_, describing a banquet that took
place in the wilds of Paphlagonia, says: "After the treaty was ratified
and the pæan sung, there first rose up two Thracians and danced in armor
to the flute, leaping high and lightly, and using their swords. Finally
one of them struck the other, so that everybody thought he had wounded
him; but he fell in an artificial way. Then the Paphlagonians raised a
shout; but the assailant, having despoiled the fallen man of his armor,
went out singing the Sitalcas. Then others of the Thracians carried out
the other as if he had been dead; but he was none the worse. Next, some
Ænianes and Magnesians stood up and danced the so-called Carpæa in
armor. The manner of the dance was this: one man, putting his arms
within reach, sows and drives a team, frequently turning round as if
afraid. Then a robber makes his appearance. As soon as the other espies
him, he seizes his arms, advances to him, and fights in front of the
team. And the two did this keeping time to the flute. Finally the
robber, having bound the other, carries off both him and the team;
sometimes, on the contrary, the ploughman binds the robber, in which
case he yokes him, with his hands bound behind his back, to his oxen and
drives off." Several other dances, performed by persons of different
nationalities, follow; but enough has been quoted to show that the Greek
ὄρχησις was something very different from our dancing. It was, indeed, a
pantomimic ballet, interspersed with _tableaux vivans_.

In the dances here mentioned, the flute is the instrument employed, and
this the player could not accompany with his voice. But in the Athenian
schools, in the old time, the flute, and all music without words, were
tabooed. There can be no doubt, therefore, that in these the orchestic
performances were accompanied by the lyre, the player on which sang in
words what the dancers danced. It is obvious that in such performances
the musical (literary) and gymnastic branches of education came in for
about equal shares. Dancing exercised the whole human being, body and
soul, and exercised them in a completely harmonious way. It is this
harmony, this rhythmic movement of the body in consonance with the
emotions of the soul and the purposes of the intelligence, that is
_grace_ (χάρις). Hence, while the Greeks relied upon gymnastics to
impart strength and firmness to the body, they looked to dancing for
courtliness and grace. Plato places the two on the same footing, as
parts of a single discipline.

The fact that the two divisions of education met in dancing seems to
prove what I surmised above, viz. that they were conducted within the
same precincts; in which case we may suppose that, while the dancing
exercises took place in the palæstra, the music was supplied by the
music master. We know that the chorus-leader was a public officer,
appointed by the demos, and had to be over forty years old. In any case,
it is curious enough to think that Athenian, and, generally, Greek,
education culminated in dancing. But this was a perfectly logical
result; for the chorus is the type of Greek social life, as we see most
clearly in the _Republic_ of Plato. It hardly needs to be pointed out
that the supreme form of Greek art, the drama, was but a development of
the Bacchic or Dionysiac chorus. This development consisted in the
separation of the music from the pantomime, and the assignment of the
former to the chorus, which no longer danced, but walked, and of the
latter to the actors, who added the dialogue to it. Greek life was
divided into three parts--civil, military, religious. Music and letters
were a preparation for the first, gymnastics for the second, and dancing
for the third. Dancing formed a prominent part in Greek worship, and it
may be doubted whether free Athenians ever danced except "before the
gods "--ἐν ταῖς πρὸς τοὺς θεοὺς προσόδοις, as Xenophon says.

Two things still remain to be considered with regard to Athenian
schools, (1) grading, (2) holidays. With respect to the former, the
practice probably differed at different times; but we seem to be
justified in assuming that, at the time of which I am speaking, there
were but two grades, boys (παῖδες) and youths (νεανίσκοι). These are
mentioned by Plato, in the _Lysis_, as celebrating the Hermæa together
in a palæstra. The first grade would include the boys from seven to
eleven years of age; the second, those from eleven to fifteen. As to
holidays, they seem to have been simply the feast-days of the greater
gods, when business of every sort was suspended. Such days amounted to
about ninety annually.


(3) COLLEGE EDUCATION.

About the time when he was blossoming into manhood, that is, some time
between his fourteenth and his sixteenth year, the Athenian boy of the
olden time was transferred from the private school and palæstra, which
belonged to the family side of life, to the gymnasium, which belonged to
the State, and in which he received the education calculated to fit him
for the duties of a citizen. Having, in the family and the school, been
trained to be a gentleman (καλοκἀγαθός), he must now be trained to be a
citizen, capable of exercising legislative, judicial, and military
functions. The State saw to it that he received this training, if his
parents chose and could afford it.

In the time of Solon, about B.C. 590, two great gymnasia, the Academy
and Cynosarges, were erected in the midst of extensive groves outside
the city walls. These groves were afterwards surrounded with high walls,
furnished with seats and other conveniences, and turned into city parks.
The Academy, which lay to the northwest of the city, in the valley of
the Cephisus, and was under the patronage of Athena, was the resort of
the full-blooded citizens, while Cynosarges, situated to the east of the
city, near the foot of Lycabettus, was assigned to those who had foreign
blood in their veins, that is, who had only one parent of pure Athenian
stock. This gymnasium was under the patronage of Heracles, whose worship
always implies the presence of a foreign and vanquished element. These
were the only two gymnasia belonging to Athens before the time of
Pericles. They were, probably, destroyed by the Persians in 480, and had
afterwards to be rebuilt, and the groves replanted.

While the children of nearly all the free citizens of Athens attended
the school and the palæstra, it is clear that only the youth of the
wealthier classes attended the gymnasium. One result of this was that
the government and offices of the State fell exclusively into the hands
of those classes; and it was perhaps just in order to make this
division, without introducing any class-law, that the shrewd Solon
established the gymnasia, which thus became a bulwark against democracy.

As soon as the Athenian youth was transferred to the gymnasium, he
passed from under the charge of the pedagogue, who represented the
family, and came under the direct surveillance of the State. He was now
free to go where he would, to frequent the agora and the street, to
attend the theatre, in which he had his appointed place, and to make
himself directly acquainted with all the details of public life. In the
gymnasium he passed into the hands of a gymnast or scientific trainer,
and for the next two or three years was subjected to the severer
exercises, wrestling, boxing, etc. No special provision, beyond the fact
that he had to learn the laws, was made for his intellectual and moral
instruction. He was expected to acquire this from contact with the older
citizens whom he met in the agora, the street, or the public park. Thus,
at what is justly regarded as the most critical age, he was almost
compelled to live a free, breezy, outdoor life, full of activity and
stirring incident, his thoughts and feelings directed outwards into acts
of will, and not turned back upon himself or his own states. At the same
time he was acquiring just that practical knowledge of ethical laws and
of real life which could best fit him for active citizenship. He now
learnt to ride, to drive, to row, to swim, to attend banquets, to
sustain a conversation, to discuss the weightiest questions of
statesmanship, to sing and dance in public choruses, and to ride or walk
in public processions. If he abused his liberty and behaved in a lawless
or unseemly way, he was called to account by the severe Court of the
Areopagus, which attended to public morals. He saw little of girls of
his own age, except his sisters, unless it was at public festivals, when
there was little opportunity of becoming acquainted with them. His
affectionate nature therefore expressed itself mostly in the form of
devoted friendships to other youths of his own, or nearly his own, age,
a fact which enables us to understand why friendship fills so large a
space, not only in the life, but also in the ethical treatises of the
Greeks,--Plato, Aristotle, etc.,--and why love, in the modern sense,
plays so insignificant a part. The truth is that, even in Athens, the
State encroached upon the family. Plato's _Republic_ was only the
logical carrying out of principles that were latent long before in the
social life of the Athenian people.

It would be impossible to treat in detail the exercises to which the
Athenian youth was subjected during the years in which he attended the
public gymnasium as a pupil. The old exercises of the palæstra were
continued, running and wrestling especially; but the former was now done
in armor, and the latter became more violent, and was supplemented by
boxing. In fact, the physical exercises were now systematized into the
_pentathlon_--running, leaping, discus-throwing, wrestling,
boxing--which formed the programme of nearly all gymnastic exhibitions.
During these years, the youth was still regarded as a minor, and his
father or guardian was responsible for his good behavior. But when he
reached the age of eighteen, a change took place, and he passed under
the direct control of the State. His father now brought him before the
reeve of his _demos_ (ward or village), as a candidate for independent
citizenship. If he proved to be the lawful child of free citizens, and
came up to the moral and physical requirements of the law, his name was
entered upon the register of the demos, and he became a member of it. He
was now prepared to be presented to the whole people, and to pass the
State examination. He shore his long hair for the first time, and donned
the black garment of the citizen. In this guise he presented himself to
the king-archon of the State, who, at a public assembly, introduced him,
along with others, to the whole people. He was then and there armed with
spear and shield (supplied by the State if his father had fallen in
war), and thence proceeded to the shrine of Aglauros, where, looking
down on the agora, the city, and the Attic plain, he took the Solonian
oath of citizenship (see p. 61). He was now technically an _ephēbos_,
cadet, or citizen-novice, ready to undergo those two years of severe
discipline which at once formed his introduction to practical affairs,
and constituted the State examination. During the first year he remained
in the neighborhood of Athens, drilling in arms, and acquiring a
knowledge of military tactics. His life was now the hard life of a
soldier. He slept in the open air, or in the guard-houses (φρούρια)
that surrounded the city, and was liable to be called upon at any time
by the government to give aid in an emergency. He also took part in the
public festivals. At the end of the year, all the _ephēboi_ of one
year's standing passed an examination in military drill before the
assembled people (ἀπεδείξαντο τῷ δήμῳ περὶ τὰς τάξεις[3]), after which
they were employed as militia to man the frontier guard-houses, and as
rural _gendarmerie_ (περίπολοι), scouring the country in all directions.
They now lived like soldiers in war-time, and learnt two important
things, (1) the topography of Attica, its roads, passes, brooks,
springs, etc., (2) the art of enforcing law and order. Their life,
indeed, closely resembled that of the Alpine corps (_Alpini_) of the
Italian army at the present day. These spend the summer in making
themselves acquainted with every height, valley, pass, stream, and
covert in the Italian Alps, often bivouacking for days together at great
heights. That during this time the _ephēboi_ should have taken any part
in the legislative or judicial duties of citizens, seems in the highest
degree improbable. At the end of their second year, however, they passed
a second examination, called the citizenship or manhood examination
(δοκιμασία εἰς ἄνδρας), after which they were full members of the State.


(4) UNIVERSITY EDUCATION.

The Greek university was the State, and the Greek State was a
university--a _Cultur-Staat_, as the Germans say. That the State is a
school of virtue, was a view generally entertained in the ancient world,
which, until it began to decay, completely identified the man with the
citizen. The influence of this view upon the attitude of the individual
to the State, and of the State to the individual, can hardly be
overestimated. The State claimed, and the individual accorded to it, a
disciplinary right which extended to every sphere and action of life.
Thus the sphere of morality coincided exactly with the sphere of
legality, or, to put it the other way, the sphere of legality extended
to the whole sphere of morality, and this was considered true, whatever
form the State or government might assume--monarchy, aristocracy,
democracy, etc.

To give a full account of the university education of old Athens would
be to write her social and political history up to the time of the
Persian Wars. This is, of course, out of the question. All I can do is
to point out those elements in the State which enabled it to produce
that splendid array of noble men, and accomplish those great deeds and
works, which make her brief career seem the brightest spot in the
world's history.

The chief of these elements, and the one which included all the rest,
was the Greek ideal of harmony. Athens was great as a State and as a
school so long as she embodied that ideal, so long as she distributed
power and honor in accordance with worth (ἀρετή) intellectual, moral,
practical; in a word, so long as the State was governed by the best
citizens (ἄριστοι), and the rest acknowledged their right to do so.
Notwithstanding the contention of Grote and others, it is strictly true
that Athens was great because, and so long as, she was aristocratic (in
the ancient sense), and perished when she abandoned her fundamental
ideal by becoming democratic. This assertion must not be construed as
any slur upon democracy as such, or as denying that Athens in perishing
paved the way for a higher ideal than her own. It simply states a fact,
which may be easily generalized without losing its truth: An institution
perishes when it abandons the principle on which it was founded and
built up. Unless we bear this in mind, we shall utterly fail to
understand the lesson of Athenian history. If it be maintained that some
of Athens' noblest work was done under the democracy, the sufficient
answer is, that it was nearly all done by men who retained the spirit of
the old aristocracy, and bitterly opposed the democracy. We need name
only Æschylus, Sophocles, Aristophanes, Plato, Aristotle, Demosthenes.




PART II

THE "NEW EDUCATION" (B.C. 480-338)




CHAPTER I

INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY

    Homer ought to be driven from the lists and whipt, and Archilochus
    likewise.--Heraclitus.

                      Thou needs must have knowledge of all things,
    First of the steadfast core of the Truth that forceth conviction,
    Then of the notions of mortals, where true conviction abides not.
    --Parmenides.

    All things were undistinguished: then Intellect came and brought
    them into order.--Anaxagoras.

    Man is the measure of all things.

    In regard to the Gods, I am unable to know whether they are or are
    not.--Protagoras.

    STREPSIADES. Don't you see what a good thing it is to have learning?
    There isn't any Zeus, Phidippides!

    PHIDIPPIDES. Who is there then?

    STREPS. Vortex rules, having dethroned Zeus.

    PHID. Pshaw! what nonsense!

    STREPS. You may count it true, all the same.

    PHID. Who says so?

    STREPS. Socrates the Melian, and Chærephon, who knows the footprints
    of fleas.--Aristophanes, _Clouds_.

    There is an old-fashioned saw, current of yore among mortals, that a
    man's happiness, when full-grown, gives birth and dies not
    childless, and that from Fortune there springs insatiate woe for all
    his race. But I, dissenting from all others, am alone of different
    mind. It is the Irreverent Deed that begets after it more of its
    kind. For to righteous homes belongs a fair-childrened lot forever;
    but old Irreverence is sure to beget Irreverence, springing up fresh
    among evil men, when the numbered hour arrives. And the new
    Irreverence begets Surfeit of Wealth, and a power beyond all battle,
    beyond all war, unholy Daring, twin curses, black to homes, like to
    their parents. But Justice shines in smoky homes, and honors the
    righteous life, and, leaving, with averted eyes, foundations gilded
    with impurity of hands, she draws nigh to holy things, honoring not
    the power of wealth, with its counterfeit stamp of praise. And her
    will is done.--Æschylus

    From the time they are children to the day of their death, we teach
    them and admonish them. As soon as the child understands what is
    said to him, his nurse and his mother and his pedagogue and even his
    father vie with each other in trying to make the best of him that
    can be made, at every word and deed instructing him and warning him,
    "This is right," "This is wrong," "This is beautiful," "This is
    ugly," "This is righteous," "This is sinful," "Do this," "Don't do
    that." And if the child readily obeys, well and good; if he does
    not, then they treat him like a bent and twisted stick,
    straightening him out with threats and blows. Later on, they send
    him to school, and then they lay their injunctions upon the masters
    to pay much more attention to the good behavior of their sons than
    to their letters and music (κιθάρισις); and the teachers act upon
    these injunctions. Later yet, when they have learnt to read, and are
    proceeding to understand the meaning of what is written, just as
    formerly they understood what was said to them, they put before them
    on the benches to read the works of good poets, and insist upon
    their learning them by heart--works which contain many admonitions,
    and many narratives, noble deeds, and eulogies of the worthy men of
    old--their purpose being to awaken the boy's ambition, so that he
    may imitate these men and strive to be worthy likewise. The
    music-teachers also, pursuing the same line, try to inculcate
    self-control (σωφροσύνη) and to prevent the boys from falling into
    mischief. In addition to this, when they have learnt to play on the
    lyre, their masters teach them other poems, written by great lyric
    poets, making them sing them and play the accompaniments to them,
    and compelling them to work into their souls the rhythms and
    melodies of them, so that they may grow in gentleness, and, having
    their natures timed and tuned, may be fitted to speak and act. The
    truth is, the whole life of man needs timing and tuning.
    Furthermore, in addition to all this, parents send their sons to the
    physical trainer, in order that their bodies may be improved and
    rendered capable of seconding a noble intent, and they themselves
    not be forced, from physical deterioration, to play the coward in
    war or other (serious) matters. And those who can best afford to
    give this education, give most of it, and these are the richest
    people. Their sons go earliest to school and leave it latest. And
    when the boys leave school, the State insists that they shall learn
    the laws and live according to them, and not according to their own
    caprice ... And if any one transgresses these laws, the State
    punishes him ... Seeing that so much attention is devoted to virtue,
    both in the family and in the State, do you wonder, Socrates, and
    question whether virtue be something that can be taught? Surely you
    ought not to wonder at this, but rather to wonder if it could _not_
    be taught.--Plato, _Protagoras_ (_words of Protagoras_).

    "Isn't it true, Lysis," said I, "that your parents love you very
    much?"--"To be sure," said he.--"Then they would wish you to be as
    happy as possible?"--"Of course," said he.--"And do you think a
    person is happy who is a slave, and is not allowed to do anything he
    desires?"--"I don't, indeed," said he.--"Then, if your father and
    mother love you and wish you to be happy, they endeavor by every
    means in their power to make you happy."--"To be sure they do," said
    he.--"Then they allow you to do anything you please, and never chide
    you, or prevent you from doing what you desire."--"By Jove! they do,
    Socrates: they prevent me from doing a great many things."--"What do
    you mean," said I; "they wish you to be happy, and yet prevent you
    from doing what you wish? Let us take an example: If you want to
    ride in one of your father's chariots, and to hold the reins, when
    it is competing in a race, won't they allow you, or will they
    prevent you?"--"By Jove! no: they would not allow me," said he. "But
    why should they? There is a charioteer, who is hired by my
    father."--"What do you mean? They allow a hired man, rather than
    you, to do what he likes with the horses, and pay him a salary
    besides?"--"And why not?" said he.--"Well then, I suppose they allow
    you to manage the mule-team, and if you wanted to take the whip and
    whip it, they would permit you."--"How could they?" said
    he.--"What?" said I: "is nobody allowed to whip it?"--"Of course,"
    he said; "the muleteer."--"A slave or a free man?"--"A slave," said
    he.--"And so it seems they think more of a slave than of their son,
    and entrust their property to him rather than to you, and allow him
    to do what he pleases, whereas they prevent you. But, farther, tell
    me this. Do they allow you to manage yourself, or do they not even
    trust you to that extent?"--"How trust me?" said he.--"Then does
    some one manage you?"--"Yes, my pedagogue here," said he.--"But he
    is surely not a slave?"--"Of course he is, our slave," said he.--"Is
    it not strange," said I, "that a freeman should be governed by a
    slave? But, to continue, what is this pedagogue doing when he
    governs you?"--"Taking me to a teacher, or something of the kind,"
    he said.--"And these teachers, it cannot be that they too govern
    you?"--"To any extent."--"So then your father likes to set over you
    a host of masters and managers; but, of course, when you go home to
    your mother, she lets you do what you like, in order to make you
    happy, either with the threads or the loom, when she is
    weaving--does she not? She surely doesn't in the least prevent you
    from handling the batten, or the comb, or any of the instruments
    used in spinning."--And he, laughing, said: "By Jove, Socrates; she
    not only prevents me, but I should be beaten if I touched
    them."--"By Hercules," said I, "isn't it true that you have done
    some wrong to your father and mother?"--"By Jove, not I," he
    said.--"But for what reason, then, do they so anxiously prevent you
    from being happy, and doing what you please, and maintain you the
    whole day in servitude to some one or another, and without power to
    do almost anything you like. It seems, indeed, that you derive no
    advantage from all this wealth, but anybody manages it rather than
    you, nor from your body, nobly born as it is, but some one else
    shepherds it and takes care of it. But you govern nothing, Lysis,
    and do nothing that you desire."--"The reason, Socrates," he said,
    "is, that I am not of age."--Plato, _Lysis_.

    The present state of the constitution is as follows: Citizenship is
    a right of children whose parents are both of them citizens.
    Registration as member of a deme or township takes place when
    eighteen years of age are completed. Before it takes place the
    townsmen of the deme find a verdict on oath, firstly, whether they
    believe the youth to be as old as the law requires, and if the
    verdict is in the negative he returns to the ranks of the boys.
    Secondly, the jury find whether he is freeborn and legitimate. If
    the verdict is against him he appeals to the Heliæa, and the
    municipality delegate five of their body to accuse him of
    illegitimacy. If he is found by the jurors to have been illegally
    proposed for the register, the State sells him for a slave; if the
    judgment is given in his favor, he must be registered as one of the
    municipality. Those on the register are afterwards examined by the
    senate, and if anyone is found not to be eighteen years old, a fine
    is imposed on the municipality by which he was registered. After
    approbation, they are called _epheboi_, or cadets, and the parents
    of all who belong to a single tribe hold a meeting and, after being
    sworn, choose three men of the tribe above forty years of age, whom
    they believe to be of stainless character and fittest for the
    superintendence of youth, and out of these the commons in ecclesia
    select one superintendent for all of each tribe, and a governor of
    the whole body of youths from the general body of the Athenians.
    These take them in charge, and after visiting with them all the
    temples, march down to Piræus, where they garrison the north and
    south harbors, Munychia and Acte. The commons also elect two
    gymnastic trainers for them, and persons who teach them to fight in
    heavy armor, to draw the bow, to throw the javelin, and to handle
    artillery. Each of the ten commanders receives as pay a drachma
    [about 20 cts.] per diem, and each of the cadets four obols [about
    13 cts.]. Each commander draws the pay of the cadets of his own
    tribe, buys with it the necessaries of life for the whole band (for
    they mess together by tribes), and purveys for all their wants. The
    first year is spent in military exercises. The second year the
    commons meet in the theatre and the cadets, after displaying before
    them their mastery in warlike evolutions, are each presented with a
    shield and spear, and become mounted patrols of the frontier and
    garrison the fortresses. They perform this service for two years,
    wearing the equestrian cloak and enjoying immunity from civic
    functions. During this period, to guard their military duties from
    interruption, they can be parties to no action either as defendant
    or plaintiff, except in suits respecting inheritance, or heiresses,
    or successions to hereditary priesthoods. When the three years are
    completed they fall into the ordinary body of citizens.--Aristotle,
    _Constitution of Athens_ (_Poste's Version, with slight
    alterations_).


That perfect harmony between power and worth at which the Athenian State
aimed, was something not easily attained or preserved. As far back as
its recorded history reaches, we find a struggle for power going on
between a party which possessed more power than its worth justified, and
a party which possessed less; that is, between a party which, having
once been worthy, strove to hold power in virtue of its past history,
and one that claimed power in virtue of the worth into which it was
growing: in a word, a struggle between declining aristocracy and growing
democracy. To the party in power, of course, this seemed a rebellion
against lawful authority and privilege, and it did its best to suppress
it. Hence came the rigorous legislation of Draco; later the more
conciliatory, less out-spoken, but equally aristocratic legislation of
Solon; then the tyranny of Pisistratus, lasting as long as he could hold
the balance of power between the contending parties; then the
constitution of Clisthenes, with the breaking up of the old Athenian
aristocratic system, the remodelling of the tribes, the degradation of
the Areopagus, and the definite triumph of democracy. To complete the
movement and, as it were, to consecrate it, came the Persian Wars, which
mark the turning-point, the _peripeteia_, in Athenian history and
education. Whatever efforts aristocracy makes to maintain itself after
this, are made in the name of, and under cover of a zeal for, democracy.

The aristocratic Athenian State was based upon land-ownership, slavery,
and the entire freedom of the land-owning class from all but family and
State duties, from all need of engaging in productive industry. So long
as the chief wealth of the State consisted in land and its produce, so
long the population was divided into two classes, the rich and the poor,
and so long the former had little difficulty in keeping all power in
its own hands. But no sooner did the growth of commerce throw wealth
into the hands of a class that owned no land, and was not above engaging
in industry, than this class began to claim a share in political power.
There were now two wealthy classes, standing opposed to each other, a
proud, conservative one, with "old wealth and worth," and a vain,
radical one, with new wealth and wants, both bidding for the favor of
the class that had little wealth, little worth, and many wants, and thus
making it feel its importance. Such is the origin of Athenian democracy.
It is the child of trade and productive industry. It owed its final
consecration to the Persian Wars, and especially to the battle of
Salamis, in which Athens was saved by her fleet, manned chiefly by
marines (ἐπιβάται) from the lower classes, the upper classes, as we have
seen, being trained only for land-service. Thus the battle of Salamis
was not only a victory of Greece over Persia, but of foreign trade over
home agriculture, of democracy over aristocracy.

The fact that the Athenian democracy owed its origin to trade
determined, in great measure, its history and tendencies. One of its
many results was that it opened Athens to the influx of foreign men,
foreign ideas, and foreign habits, not to speak of foreign gods, all of
which tended to break up the old self-contained, carefully organized
life of the people. In no department were their effects sooner or more
clearly felt than in that of education. From about the date of the
battle of Salamis, when the youthful Ionian, Anaxagoras, came to Athens,
a succession of men of "advanced" ideas in art and science sought a
field of action within her borders. Such a field, indeed, seemed
purposely to have been left open for them by the State, which had
provided no means of intellectual or moral education for its young
citizens, after they passed under its care (see p. 87). Nothing was
easier or more profitable than for these wise foreigners to constitute
themselves public teachers, and fill the place which the State had left
vacant. The State might occasionally object, and seek to punish one or
another of them for corrupting of the youth by the promulgation of
impious or otherwise dangerous ideas, as it did in the case of
Anaxagoras; but their activity was too much in harmony with a tendency
of the time,--a radical and individualistic tendency inseparable from
democracy,--to be dispensed with altogether. Hence it was that, within a
few years after the battle of Salamis, there flourished in Athens a
class of men unknown before within her boundaries, a class of private
professors, or "sophists," as they called themselves, who undertook to
teach theoretically what the State had assumed could be taught only
practically and by herself, viz., virtue and wisdom. Their ideas were
novel, striking, and radical, hence congenial to a newly emancipated
populace, vain of its recent achievements, and contemptuous of all that
savored of the narrow, pious puritanism of the old time; their premises
were magnificent, and their fees high enough to impose upon a class that
always measures the value of a thing by what it is asked to pay for it;
their method of teaching was such as to flatter the vanity, and secure
the favor, of both pupils and parents. No wonder that their success was
immediate and their influence enormous.

From the days of Socrates to our own, 'sophist' has been a term of
reproach, and not altogether unjustly so. Hegel, Grote, and Zeller have,
indeed, shown that the sophists did not deserve all the obloquy which
has attached itself to their name, inasmuch as they were neither much
better nor much worse than any class of men who set up to teach new
doctrines for money, and, as wise economists, suit supply to demand;
nevertheless, it may be fairly enough said that they largely contributed
to demoralize Athens, by encouraging irreverence for the very
conceptions upon which her polity was built, and by pandering to some of
the most selfish and individualistic tendencies of democracy. If it be
said that they have their place in the history of human evolution, as
the heralds of that higher view of life which allows the individual a
sphere of activities and interests outside of that occupied by the
State, this may at once and without difficulty be admitted, without our
being thereby forced to regard them as noble men. The truth is, they
represented, in practice and in theory, the spirit of individualism,
which was then everywhere asserting itself against the spirit of
nationalism or polity, and which perhaps had to assert itself in an
exaggerated and destructive way, before the rightful claims of the two
could be manifested and harmonized. It is the incorporation of this
spirit of individualism into education that constitutes the "New
Education."

This spirit, as manifested in the sophists and their teaching, directed
itself against the old political spirit in all the departments of
life--in religion, in politics, in education. It discredited the old
popular gods, upon loyalty to whom the existence of the State had been
supposed to depend, substituting for them some crude fancy like Vortex,
or some bald abstraction like Intellect. It encouraged the individual to
seek his end in his own pleasure, and to regard the State as but a means
to that end. It championed an education in which these ideas occupied a
prominent place. What the sophists actually taught the ambitious young
men who sought their instruction, was self-assertion, unscrupulousness,
and a showy rhetoric, in whose triumphal procession facts, fancies, and
falsehoods marched together in brilliant array. It is but fair to them
to say that, in their endeavor to instruct young men in the art of
specious oratory, they laid the foundations of the art of rhetoric and
the science of grammar. So much, at least, the world owes to them.

Since it was to the young men, who, freed from the discipline of home,
pedagogue, school, and palæstra, could be met with anywhere, in the
street, the agora, the gymnasium, that the sophists directed their chief
attention, it was of course these who first showed the effects of their
teaching. But their influence, falling in, as it did, with the
pronounced radical tendencies of the time, soon made itself felt in all
grades of education, from the family to the university, in the form of
an irreverent, flippant, conceited rationalism, before whose
self-erected and self-corrupted tribunal every institution in heaven and
earth was to be tried. In the schools this influence showed itself in
various ways: (1) in an increased attention to literature, and
especially to the formal side of it, (2) in the tendency to substitute
for the works of the old epic and lyric poets the works of more recent
writers tinged with the new spirit, (3) in the introduction of new and
complicated instruments and kinds of music, (4) in an increasing
departure from the severe physical and moral discipline of the old days.
We now, for the first time, hear of a teacher of literature, distinct
from the music master, of teachers who possessed no copy of Homer
(Alcibiades is said to have chastised such a one), of flutes, citharas,
and the like in use in schools, of wildness and lewdness among boys of
tender age. In the palæstra the new spirit showed itself in a tendency
to substitute showy and unsystematic exercises for the vigorous and
graded exercises of the older time, to sacrifice education to execution.

But, as already remarked, the new spirit showed itself most clearly and
hurtfully in the higher education. The young men, instead of spending
their time in vigorous physical exercise in the gymnasia and open
country, began now to hang about the streets and public places,
listening to sophistic discussions, and to attend the schools of the
sophists, exercising their tongues more than any other part of their
bodies. The effect of this soon showed itself in a decline of physical
power, of endurance, courage, and manliness, and in a strong tendency to
luxury and other physical sins. They now began to imagine for themselves
a private life, very far from coincident with that demanded of a
citizen, and to look upon the old citizen-life, and its ideals,
sanctions, and duties, with contempt or pity, as something which they
had learnt to rise above. The glory and well-being of their country
were no longer their chief object of ambition. The dry rot of
individualism, which always seems to those affected by it an evidence of
health and manly vigor, was corrupting their moral nature, and preparing
the way for the destruction of the State. For it was but too natural
that these young men, when they came to be members of the State, should
neglect its lessons and claims, and, following the new teachings, live
to themselves. Thus, just as the character of the "Old Education" of
Athens showed itself in the behavior of her sons in the Persian Wars, so
that of her "New Education" showed itself fifty years later in the
Peloponnesian War, that long and disastrous struggle which wrecked
Athens and Greece.

Yet Athens and her education were not allowed to go to ruin without a
struggle. The aristocratic party long stuck to the old principles and
tried to give them effect; but, failing to understand the new
circumstances and to take account of them, it erred in the application
of them, by seeking simply to restore the old conditions. Individuals
also exerted their best efforts for the same end. Æschylus, who had
fought at Marathon, and who, more than any other Greek, was endowed with
the spirit of religion, interpreted the old mythology in an ethical
sense, and in this form worked it into a series of dramas, whereby the
history and institutions of the Greek people were shown to be due to a
guiding Providence of inexorable justice, rewarding each man according
to his works, abhorring proud homes "gilded with impurity of hands," and
dwelling with the pure and righteous, though housed in the meanest cot.
Æschylus thus became, not only the father of Greek tragedy, but also the
sublimest moral teacher Greece ever possessed. For moral grandeur there
is but one work in all literature that can stand by the side of
Æschylus' _Oresteia_, and that is the _Divine Comedy_. Yet Æschylus was
driven from Athens on a charge of impiety, and died in exile.

But it was not the tragic drama alone that was inspired and made a
preacher of righteousness: in the hands of Aristophanes, the comic drama
exerted all its power for the same end. For over thirty years this
inimitable humorist used the public theatre to lash the follies, and
hold up to contempt the wretched leaders, of the Athenian populace,
pointing out to his countrymen the abyss of destruction that was yawning
before them. The world has never seen such earnest comedy, not even in
the works of Molière or Beaumarchais. Yet it was all in vain. Long
before his death, Aristophanes was forbidden to hold up to public scorn
the degradation of his people.

Among the individual citizens who labored with all their might to bring
back Athens to her old worth were two of very different character,
endowments, and position, the one laboring in the world of action, the
other in the world of thought. The first was Pericles, who, seeing that
democracy was the order of the day, accepted it, and, by his personal
character and position, strove to guide it to worthy ends. In order to
encourage gymnastic exercises, particularly among the sons of the newer
families, he built the Lyceum, in a grove sacred to Apollo, between
Cynosarges and the city walls, as a gymnasium for them. With a view to
encouraging among them the study of music, he built an odeon, or
music-hall, under the southeast end of the Acropolis. Both were
magnificent structures. What he did towards the completion of the great
theatre for the encouragement of dancing, we do not know; that this
entered into his plan, there can hardly be any doubt. But Pericles was
too wise a man to suppose that he could induce his pleasure-seeking
countrymen to subject themselves to the old discipline, without offering
them an object calculated to rouse their ambition and call forth their
energy. This object was nothing less than a united Greece, with Athens
as its capital. How hard he tried to make this object familiar to them,
and to render Athens worthy of the place he desired her to occupy, is
pathetically attested to this day by the Propylæa and the Parthenon. On
the frieze of the latter is represented the solemn sacrifice that was to
cement the union of the Hellenic people, and place it at the head of
civilization. When degenerate Greece resisted all his efforts to make
her become one peaceably, he tried to make her do so by force, and the
Peloponnesian War, started on a mere frivolous pretext, was the result.
He did not live long enough to learn the outcome of this desperate
attempt to wake his countrymen to new moral and political life, and it
was well. If he had, he might have been forced to recognize that he had
been attempting an impossible task,--trying to erect a strong structure
with rotten timber, to make a noble State out of ignoble, selfish men.
Unfortunately, the example of his own private life, in which he openly
defied one of the laws of the State, and tried to make concubinage
(ἑταίρησις) respectable, more than undid all the good he sought to
accomplish. The truth is, Pericles was himself too deeply imbued with
the three vices of his time--rationalism, self-indulgence, and love of
show--to be able to see any true remedy for the evils that sprang from
them. What was needed was not letters, music, gymnastics, dancing, or
dream of empire, but something entirely different--a new moral
inspiration and ideal.

This, the second of the men to whom reference has been made, Socrates,
sought to supply. In the midst of self-indulgence, he lived a life of
poverty and privation; in the midst of splendor and the worship of
outward beauty, he pursued simplicity and took pleasure in his ugliness;
in the midst of self-assertive rationalism and all-knowing sophistry, he
professed ignorance and submission to the gods. The problem of how to
restore the moral life of Athens and Greece presented itself to Socrates
in this form: _The old ethical social sanctions, divine and human,
having, under the influence of rationalism and individualism, lost their
power, where and how shall we find other sanctions to take their place?_
To answer this one question was the aim of Socrates' whole life. He was
not long in seeing that any true answer must rest upon a comprehension
of man's entire nature and relations, and that the sophists were able to
impose upon his countrymen only because no such comprehension was
theirs. He saw that the old moral life, based upon naïve tradition and
prescription, sanctioned by gods of the imagination, would have to give
place to a moral life resting upon self-understanding and reflection.
He accordingly adopted as his motto the command of the Delphic oracle,
_Know Thyself_ (γνῶθι σεαυτóν), and set to work with all his might to
obey it.

He now, therefore, went to meet the sophists on their own ground and
with their own methods, and he did this so well as to be considered by
many, Aristophanes among them, as the best possible representative of
the class. What is true is, that he was the first Athenian who undertook
to do what the sophists had for some time considered their special
function,--to impart a "higher education" to the youth and men of
Athens. He went about the streets, shops, walks, schools, and gymnasia
of the city, drawing all sorts of persons into conversation, and trying
to elicit truth for himself and them (for he pretended to know nothing).
He was never so pleased as when he met a real sophist, who professed to
have knowledge, and never so much in his element as when, in the
presence of a knot of young men, he could, by his ironical, subtle
questions, force said sophist to admit that he too knew nothing. The
fact was, Socrates, studying Heraclitus, had become convinced that the
reason why men fell into error was because they did not know themselves,
or their own thoughts, because what they called thoughts were mere
opinions, mere fragments of thoughts. He concluded that, if men were
ever to be redeemed from error, intellectual and moral, they must be
made to think whole thoughts. Accordingly, he took the ordinary opinions
of men and, by a series of well-directed questions, tried to bring out
their implications, that is, the wholes of which they were parts. Such
is the Socratic or dialectic (= conversational) method. It does not
pretend to impart any new knowledge, but merely, as Socrates said, to
deliver the mind of the thoughts with which it is pregnant. And Socrates
not only held that saving truth consisted of whole thoughts; he held
also that all such thoughts were universally and necessarily true; that,
while there might be many opinions about a thing, there could be but one
truth, the same for all men, and therefore independent of any man. This
was the exact opposite of what Protagoras the sophist had taught, the
opposite of the gospel of individualism (see p. 93). Man is so far from
being the measure of all things, that there is in all things a measure
to which he must conform, if he is not to sink into error. This measure,
this system of whole truths, implying an eternal mind to which it is
present, and by which it is manifested in the world, is just what man
arrives at, if he will but think out his thoughts in their completeness.
In doing so, he at once learns the laws by which the universe is
governed and finds a guide and sanction for his own conduct--a sanction
no longer external and imposed by the State, but internal and imposed by
the mind. A system like this involved a complete reversal of the old
view of the relation between man and the State, and at the same time
took the feet from under individualism. "It is true," said Socrates in
effect, "that the individual, and not the State, is the source of all
authority, the measure of all things; but he is so, not as individual,
but as endowed with the universal reason by which the world, including
the State, is governed." This is the sum and substance of Socrates'
teaching, this is what he believed to be true self-knowledge. This is
the truth whose application to life begins a new epoch in human history,
and separates the modern from the ancient world; this is the truth that,
reiterated and vivified by Christianity, forms the very life of our life
to-day.

In adopting this view, Socrates necessarily formed "a party by himself,"
a party which could hope for no sympathy from either of the other two
into which his countrymen were divided. The party of tradition charged
him with denying the gods of his country and corrupting her youth; the
radical party hated him because he convicted its champions of vanity,
superficiality, and ignorance. Between them, they compassed his death,
and Athens learnt, only when it was too late, that she had slain her
prophet. But Socrates, though slain, was not dead. His spirit lived on,
and the work which he had begun grew and prospered. Yet it could not
save Athens, except upon a condition which she neither would nor could
accept, that of remodelling her polity and the life of her citizens in
accordance with divine truth and justice. Indeed, though he discovered a
great truth, Socrates did not present it in a form in which it could be
accepted under the given conditions. He himself even did not by any
means see all the stupendous implications of his own principle, which,
in fact, was nothing less than the ground of all true ethics, all
liberty, and all science. It is doubtful whether any one sees them now,
and certain that they have been nowhere realized. Still his truth and
his life were not without their immediate effect upon Athens and
Athenian education. Men, working in his spirit, and inspired with his
truth, more or less clearly understood, almost immediately replaced the
sophists in Athens, and drew the attention of her citizens, old and
young, to the serious search for truth. In fact, from this time on, the
intellectual tendency began to prevail over the gymnastic and musical,
and this continued until, finally, it absorbed the whole life of the
people, and Athens, from being a university-State, became a
State-university. Such it was in the days of Cicero, Paul, Plutarch,
Lucian, and Proclus. That this one-sided tendency was fatal to the
political life of Athens, and therefore, in some degree, to its moral
life, is clear enough; and, though we cannot hold Socrates personally
responsible for this result, we must still admit that it was one which
flowed from his system of thought. Personally, indeed, Socrates was a
moral hero, and "five righteous" men like him, had they appeared, would
have gone far to save Athens; but this very heroism, this inborn
enthusiasm for righteousness, blinded him so far as to make him believe
that men had only to know the right in order to be ready to follow it.
Hence that exaggerated importance attached to right knowing, and that
comparative neglect of right feeling and right doing, which in the
sequel proved so paralyzing. Hence the failure of Socrates' teaching to
stem the tide of corruption in Athens, and restore her people to heroism
and worth.

Socrates left behind him many disciples, some of whom distinguished
themselves in practical ways, others as founders of philosophic
schools, emphasizing different sides of his teaching. He was but a few
years in his grave when two of these were teaching regularly in the two
old gymnasia of Athens. Plato, a full-blooded Athenian, was teaching in
the Academy the intellectual and moral theories of his master, while
Antisthenes, a half-breed (his mother being a Thracian), was inculcating
the lesson of his heroic life in Cynosarges. Their followers were
called, respectively, Academics and Cynics. Thus, by these two men, was
the higher education for the first time introduced into the public
institutions of Athens.

Socrates' aim, as we have seen, had been purely a moral one, and this
fact was not lost sight of by his immediate followers. The chief
question with them all was still: How can the people be brought back to
moral life? But, thanks partly to the vagueness in which he had left the
details of his doctrine, they were divided with respect to the means
whereby this was to be accomplished. One party, best represented by
Plato, and following most closely in the footsteps of the master, held
that, man being essentially a social being, and morality a relation in
society, it was only in and through a social order, a State, that virtue
could be realized. Another party, represented by Antisthenes, maintained
that virtue was a purely personal matter, and that the wise man stood
high above any and all social institutions. These two views maintained
themselves, side by side, in nearly all subsequent Greek thought, and at
last found expression in the State and Church of the Christian world.

Two of Socrates' followers, believers in institutional morality, left
behind them treatises which have come down to us, giving their views as
to the manner in which virtue might be cultivated. These are the
practical Xenophon and the theoretic Plato, both men of pure Athenian
stock. Nothing will better enable us to comprehend the evils of the "New
Education" than a consideration of the means by which these worthy men
proposed to remedy them. Both are idealists and Utopians; but the former
is conservative and reactionary, while the latter is speculative and
progressive. Both are aiming at one thing--a virtuous and happy State,
to replace the vicious and wretched one in which they found their lot
cast; but they differed in their views regarding the nature of such a
State, and the means of realizing it.




CHAPTER II

XENOPHON

    Never a good is the rule of the many; let one be the ruler.--Homer

    Wealth without Worth is no harmless housemate.--Sappho

    One to me is ten thousand, if he be best.

    All the Ephesians, from youth up, ought to be hanged and the State
    left to the boys, because they cast out Hermodorus, the worthiest
    man amongst them, saying: 'No one of us shall be worthiest, else let
    him be so elsewhere and among others.'--Heraclitus

    Reflecting once that, of the very small states, Sparta appeared to
    be the most powerful and the most renowned in Greece, I began to
    wonder in what way this had come about. But when I reflected upon
    the manners of the Spartans, I ceased to wonder. As to Lycurgus, who
    drew up for them the laws, by obedience to which they have
    prospered, I admire him and hold him to be, in the highest degree, a
    wise man. For he, instead of imitating other states, reached
    conclusions opposite to those of most, and thereby rendered his
    country conspicuous for prosperity.--Xenophon


Xenophon was in no sense a philosopher or a practical teacher, but he
was a man of sterling worth, of knightly courage, of wide and varied
experience, of strong sagacity, and of genial disposition, a keen
observer, and a charming writer. He was a true old Athenian puritan,
broadened and softened by study and contact with the world. He hated
democracy so cordially that he would not live in Athens to witness its
vulgarity and disorder; but he loved his country, and desired to see
its people restored to their ancient worth. He believed that this could
be done only by some great, royal personality, like Lycurgus or Cyrus,
enforcing a rigid discipline, and once more reducing the man to the
citizen. Unwilling, probably, to hold up hated Sparta as a model to his
beaten and smarting countrymen, he laid the scene of his pedagogical
romance in far-off Persia.

In the _Education of Cyrus_ (Κύρου παιδεία) we have Xenophon's scheme
for a perfect education. Despite the scene in which it is laid, it is
purely Hellenic, made up of Athenian and Spartan elements in about equal
proportions. For this reason also it has a special interest for us. As
the portion of the treatise dealing directly with public education is
brief, we can hardly do better than transcribe it in a translation.

"Cyrus is still celebrated in legend and song by the barbarians as a man
of extraordinary personal beauty, and as of a most gentle, studious, and
honor-loving disposition, which made him ready to undergo any labor, and
brave any danger, for the sake of praise. Such is the account that has
been handed down of his appearance and disposition. He was, of course,
educated in accordance with the laws of the Persians. These laws seem to
begin their efforts for the public weal at a different point from those
of most other states; for most states, after allowing parents to educate
their children as they please, and the older people even to spend their
time according to their own preference, lay down such laws as: Thou
shalt not steal, Thou shalt not rob, Thou shalt not commit burglary,
Thou shalt not commit assault, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou
shalt not disobey a magistrate, etc.; and if any one transgresses any of
these laws, they inflict punishment on him. The Persian laws, on the
contrary, provide beforehand that the citizens shall never, from the
very first, have any disposition to commit a wicked or base act. And
they do so in this way. They have what they call a Freemen's Square,
where the royal palace and the other public buildings stand. From this
square are removed all wares and chafferers, with their cries and
vulgarities, to another place, so that their din and disorder may not
interfere with the decorum of the cultivated class. This square in the
neighborhood of the public buildings is divided into four parts, one for
boys, one for youths (ἔφηβοι), one for mature men, and one for men
beyond the military age. The hour when these shall appear in their
places is settled by law. The boys and mature men come at daybreak, the
older men when they think fit, except on the special days when they are
bound to appear. The youths pass the night by the public buildings in
light armor, only those who are married being excused. These are not
hunted up, unless they have been ordered beforehand to appear; but it is
not thought decent to be often absent. Each of these divisions is under
the charge of twelve governors, one from each of the twelve tribes into
which the Persians are divided. The governors of the boys are chosen
from among the elderly men, with special view to their fitness for
making the most of boys, while those of the youths are chosen from among
the mature men upon a similar principle. Those of the mature men are
selected with a view to their ability to hold these to their regular
duties, and to the special commands of the supreme authority. Even the
old men have presidents appointed over them, who see that they perform
their duty. What the duties of each are we shall now state, in order to
show just how provision is made for securing the highest worth on the
part of the citizens.

"First, then, the boys, when they go to school, spend their time in
learning justice. They say they go for that purpose, just as our boys go
to learn letters. Their governors spend the greater part of the day in
acting as judges among them. It is needless to say that boys, as well as
men, bring charges against each other of theft and robbery and violence
and deceit and slander, and similar things, and those whom the judges
find guilty of any of these they punish. But they also punish those whom
they find bringing false charges. They pronounce judgment likewise on a
charge which, more than anything else, makes men hate each other, and
for which they are judged less than for any other, namely, ingratitude.
If the judges find a boy in a position to return a favor and not doing
it, they punish him severely, believing that persons who are ungrateful
will, more than any others, be undutiful to the gods, to parents,
country, and friends. It is generally held that ingratitude, more than
aught else, leads to irreverence, and we need not add that _it_ is the
prime mover in every form of baseness. They teach the boys also
self-denial, and these are greatly aided in learning this virtue from
seeing it daily practised by their elders. Another thing they teach them
is obedience to those placed in authority over them; and they are
greatly aided in learning this, by seeing their elders strictly obeying
their governors. Another thing yet which they teach them is
self-discipline in matters of eating and drinking; and they are greatly
aided in this by seeing that their elders never absent themselves for
the purpose of eating, until they are permitted to do so by their
governors, as well as by the fact that they (the boys) do not eat with
their mothers, but with their teachers, and at a signal from their
governors. As food, they bring with them from home bread, as a relish,
nasturtium, and in order to drink, if they are thirsty, they bring an
earthen cup to draw water from the river with. In addition to all these
things, the boys learn to shoot with the bow and to throw the javelin.
Up to the age of sixteen or seventeen years, these are the studies in
which the boys engage; after that they are transferred to the class of
cadets (ἔφηβοι).

"These cadets spend their time in this way: For ten years from the time
when they graduate from the boys' class, they sleep, as we have already
said, in the precincts of the public buildings, acting at once as a
guard to the city and practising self-denial. It is generally agreed,
indeed, that this is the age which especially requires attention. During
the day they are at the disposal of their governors, and ready to
perform any public service required. If no such service is demanded,
they remain in the neighborhood of the public buildings. When the king
goes out to hunt, which he does many times a month, he takes with him
one-half of the tribes, and leaves the other behind. Those youths who
accompany him must carry with them bows and, in a sheath alongside
their quivers, a bill or scimitar; also a light shield, and two javelins
apiece, one to throw, the other to use, if necessary, at close quarters.
For this reason they make hunting a matter of public concern, and the
king, as in war, acts as their leader, hunts himself, and sees that the
others hunt, the Persians being of opinion that this is the best of all
preparations for war. And, indeed, it accustoms them to rise early, and
to bear heat and cold; it affords them exercise in marching and running,
and compels them to use their bows or their javelins upon wild animals,
wherever they happen to come upon them. They are often forced, moreover,
to sharpen their courage, when they find themselves face to face with
some powerful animal. They must, of course, wound the one that comes to
close quarters, and hold at bay the one that attacks them. Hence it is
difficult to find in war anything that is absent from the chase. When
they go out to hunt, the young men, of course, take with them a larger
luncheon than the boys are allowed to have; but this is the only
difference between the two. And while they are hunting, they sometimes
do not lunch at all; but, if they have to remain beyond their time on
account of some game, or otherwise, if they wish to prolong the chase,
they make a dinner of this lunch, and on the following day continue the
hunt till dinner-time, counting the two days one, because they consume
only one day's food. And they do this for the sake of practice, so that,
if ever they should run short of provisions in war, they may be able to
do the same thing. These youths have as a relish what game they capture
in the chase, otherwise they have nasturtium. And if any one thinks
that they eat without pleasure, when they have only nasturtium with
their food, or drink without pleasure, when they drink water, let him
remember how sweet barley-cake and wheaten bread are when he is hungry,
and how sweet water is when he is thirsty. The tribes that remain
behind, when the king goes hunting, spend their time in the same studies
which they pursued as boys, including shooting and javelin-casting, and
in these continual contests are going on. There are likewise public
exhibitions in them, at which prizes are offered; and whichever tribe
contains most young men exceptionally proficient, manly, and steady, is
commended by the citizens, who likewise honor, not only their present
governor, but also the governor who had charge of them as boys. The
young men who are left behind are also employed by the authorities, if
any such service is required as manning a guard-house, tracking out
malefactors, running down robbers, or anything demanding strength and
swiftness. Such are the studies of the young men. And when they have
passed ten years in these, they graduate into the class of mature men.

"From the date of this graduation, they spend five and twenty years more
in the following manner: In the first place, like the young men, they
place themselves at the disposal of the authorities for any public
service requiring at once sagacity and unimpaired strength. If they are
required to take the field in war, men proficient as they are go armed,
no longer with bows and javelins, but with what are called hand-to-hand
weapons, breast-plates, shields in their left hands, such as we see in
pictures of the Persians, and a sword or bill in their right. And all
the officials are drawn from this class, except the boys' teachers. And
when they have passed twenty-five years in this class, they are
something more than fifty years of age. At that age they graduate into
the class of elders, as, indeed, they are called.

"These elders no longer serve in war outside their own country, but,
remaining at home, act as judges in public and private cases. They do so
even in capital cases. They likewise choose all the officials, and if
any person belonging to either of the classes of young and mature men
neglects any of his lawful duties, the governor of his tribe, or any one
else who pleases, may report him to the elders, and these, if they find
the fact to be as reported, expel him from his tribe, and he who is
expelled remains dishonored all his life.

"To give a clearer notion of the polity of the Persians as a whole, I
will retrace my steps a little. After what has been said, this may be
done in a very few words: The Persians, then, are said to number about
one hundred and twenty thousand. Of these, none is excluded by law from
honors or offices; but all Persians are allowed to send their sons to
the public schools of justice. However, it is only those who are able to
maintain their sons without employment that send them there: the rest do
not. On the other hand, those that are educated by the public teachers
are permitted to spend their youth among the _ephēboi_, while those who
have not completed this education are not. Again those that pass their
youth among the _ephēboi_, and come up to the legal requirements, are
allowed to graduate into the class of mature men, and to participate in
honors and offices; whereas those who do not pass through the grade of
the _ephēboi_ do not rise to the class of mature men. Finally, those who
complete the curriculum of the mature men without reproach, pass into
the class of elders. Thus it is that this class of elders is composed of
men who have passed through all the grades of culture. Such is the
polity of the Persians, and such is the system of training whereby they
endeavor to secure the highest worth."

This Utopian scheme of education has a peculiar interest, because it is
nothing more or less than the old ideal of Greek education become fully
conscious of itself, under the influence of the new ideal. Let us call
attention to the main points of it. (1) The education here set forth is
purely political: men are regarded simply and solely as citizens; all
honors are civic honors. (2) No provision is made for the education of
women, their range of activity being entirely confined to the family.
(3) Distinction is made to rest upon education and conduct. (4) The
poorer classes of the population, though not legally excluded from
education, position, and power, are virtually excluded by their poverty,
so that the government is altogether in the hands of the rich, and is,
in fact, an aristocracy, while pretending to be a democracy: hence, (5)
Social distinctions are distinctions of worth, which is just the Greek
ideal.

There is, however, one point in the scheme which shows that it is
reactionary, directed against prevailing tendencies. Not one word is
said of the intellectual side of education, of music or letters. It is
evident that Xenophon, himself a man of no mean literary attainments,
clearly saw the dangers to Greek life and liberty involved in that
exaggerated devotion to literary and intellectual pursuits which
followed the teaching of the sophists and Socrates, and that, in order
to check this perilous tendency, he drew up a scheme of education from
which intellectual and literary pursuits are altogether excluded, in
which justice takes the place of letters, and music is not mentioned.

This suggests a curious inquiry in respect to his _Memoirs of Socrates_.
This work has generally been regarded as giving us a more correct notion
of the real, living Socrates than the manifestly idealizing works of
Plato. But was not Xenophon, who could not fail to see the future power
of Socrates' influence, as anxious as Plato to claim the prophet as the
champion of his own views, and does not this fact determine the whole
character of his work? Is it not a romance, in the same sense that the
_Cyropædia_ is, with only this difference, that the facts of Socrates'
life, being fairly well known to those for whom Xenophon was writing,
could not be treated with the same freedom and disregard as those of
Cyrus' life?

Before we part with Xenophon, we must call attention to another treatise
of his, in which he deals with a subject that was then pressing for
consideration--the education of women. While, as we have seen, the
Æolian states and even Dorian Sparta provided, in some degree, for
women's education, Athens apparently, conceiving that woman had no
duties outside of the family, left her education entirely to the care of
that institution. The conservative Xenophon does not depart from this
view; but, seeing the moral evils that were springing from the neglect
of women and their inability to be, in any sense, companions to their
cultured, or over-cultured, husbands, he lays down in his _Œconomics_ a
scheme for the education of the young wife _by her husband_. As this
affords us an admirable insight into the lives of Athenian girls and
women, better, indeed, than can be found elsewhere, we cannot do better
than transcribe the first part of it. It takes the form of a
conversation between Socrates and a young husband, named Ischomachus
(Strong Fighter), and is reported by the former. Socrates tells how,
seeing Ischomachus sitting at leisure in a certain portico, he entered
into conversation with him, paid him an acceptable compliment, and
inquired how he came to be nearly always busy out of doors, seeing that
he evidently spent little time in the house. Ischomachus replies:--

"'As to your inquiry, Socrates, it is true that I never remain indoors.
Nor need I; for my wife is fully able by herself to manage everything in
the house.' 'This again, Ischomachus,' said I, 'is something that I
should like to ask you about, whether it was you who taught your wife to
be a good wife, or whether she knew all her household duties when you
received her from her father and mother.' 'Well, Socrates,' said he,
'what do you suppose she knew when I took her, since she was hardly
fifteen when she came to me, and, during the whole of her life before
that, special care had been taken that she should see, hear, and ask as
little as possible. Indeed, don't you think I ought to have been
satisfied if, when she came to me, she knew nothing but how to take wool
and turn it into a garment, and had seen nothing but how tasks in
spinning are assigned to maids? As regards matters connected with eating
and drinking, of course she was extremely well educated when she came,
and this seems to me the chief education, whether for a man or a woman.'
'In all other matters, Ischomachus,' said I, 'you yourself instructed
your wife, so as to make her an excellent housewife.' 'To be sure,' said
he, 'but not until I had first sacrificed, and prayed that I might
succeed in teaching her, and she might succeed in learning, what was
best for both of us.' 'Then,' said I, 'your wife took part in your
sacrifice and in these prayers, did she not?' 'Certainly she did,' said
Ischomachus, 'and solemnly promised to the gods that she would be what
she ought to be, and showed every evidence of a disposition not to
neglect what was taught her.' 'But do, I beseech you, Ischomachus,
explain to me,' said I, 'what was the first thing you set about teaching
her? I shall be more interested in hearing you tell that, than if you
told me all about the finest gymnastic or equestrian exhibition.' And
Ischomachus replied: 'What _should_ I teach her? As soon as she could be
handled, and was tame enough to converse, I spoke to her in some such
way as this: Tell me, my dear, have you ever considered why I took _you_
as my wife, and why your parents gave you to me? That it was not because
I could not find any one else to share my bed, you know as well as I.
No, but because I was anxious to find for myself, and your parents were
anxious to find for you, the most suitable partner in home and
offspring, I selected you, and your parents, it seems, selected me, out
of all possible matches. If, then, God shall ever bless us with
children, then we will take the greatest care of them, and try to give
them the best possible education; for it will prove a blessing to both
of us to have the very best of helpers and supports in our old age. But
at present we have this as our common home. And all that I have, I pass
over to the common stock, and all that you have brought with you, you
have added to the same. Nor must we begin to count which of us has
contributed the larger number of things, but must realize that whichever
of us is the better partner contributes the more valuable things. Then,
Socrates, my wife replied, and said: In what way can I coöperate with
you? What power have I? Everything rests with you. My mother told me
that my only duty was to be dutiful. Assuredly, my dear, said I, and my
father told me the same thing. But it is surely the duty of a dutiful
husband and a dutiful wife to act so that what they have may be improved
to the utmost, and by every fair and lawful means increased to the
utmost. And what do you find, said my wife, that I can do towards
helping you to build up our house? Dear me! said I, whatever things the
gods have endowed you with the power to do, and the law permits, try to
do these to the best of your ability. And what _are_ these? said she. It
strikes me, said I, that they are by no means the least important
things, unless it be true that in the hive the queen-bee is entrusted
with the least important functions. Indeed, it seems to me, my dear, I
continued, that the very gods have yoked together this couple called
male and female with a very definite purpose, viz. to be the source of
the greatest mutual good to the yoke-fellows. In the first place, this
union exists in order that living species may not die out, but be
preserved by propagation; in the second, the partners in this union, at
least in the case of human beings, obtain through it the supports of
their old age. Moreover, human beings do not live, like animals, in the
open air, but obviously require roofs. And I am sure, people who are
going to have anything to bring under a roof must have some one to do
outdoor duties; for, you see, ploughing, sowing, planting, herding, are
all outdoor employments, and it is from them that we obtain all our
supplies. On the other hand, when the supplies have all been brought
under cover, there is needed some one to take care of them, and to
perform those duties which must be done indoors. Among these are the
rearing of children and the preparation of food from the produce of the
earth; likewise the making of cloth out of wool. And, since both these
classes of duties, the outdoor and the indoor, require labor and care,
it seems to me, I said, that God has constructed the nature of woman
with a special view to indoor employments and cares, and that of man
with a view to outdoor employments and cares. For he has made both the
body and the soul of the man better able than those of the woman to bear
cold, heat, travelling, military service, and so has assigned to him
the outdoor employments. And, since he has made the body of woman less
able to endure these things, he seems to me to have assigned to her the
indoor employments. Considering, moreover, that he had made it woman's
nature and duty to nourish young children, he imparted to her a greater
love for babies than he did to man. And, inasmuch as he had made it part
of woman's duty to take care of the income of the family, God, knowing
that for care-taking the soul is none the worse for being ready to fear,
bestowed upon woman a greater share of fear than upon a man. On the
other hand, knowing that he who attends to the outdoor employments will
have to protect the family from wrong-doers, he endowed him with a
greater share of courage. And, since both have to give and receive, he
divided memory and carefulness between them, so that it would be
difficult to determine which of the sexes, the male or the female, is
the better equipped with these. And the necessary self-denial he divided
between them, and made a decree that, whichever of the two, the husband
or the wife, was the superior, should be rewarded with the larger share
of this blessing. And just because the nature of man and the nature of
woman are not both equally fitted for all tasks, the two are the more
dependent upon each other, and their union is the more beneficial to
them, because the one is able to supply what the other lacks. And now,
said I, my dear, that we know the duties which God has assigned to us
respectively, it becomes each of us to do our best, in order to perform
these duties. And the law, I continued, coincides with the divine
intention, and unites man and woman. And, just as God has made them
partners in offspring, so the law makes them partners in the household.
And the law sets its approval upon that difference of function which God
has signified by the difference of ability which marks the sexes. For it
is more respectable for a woman to remain indoors than to spend her time
out of doors, and less respectable for a man to remain indoors than to
attend to outdoor concerns. And, if any one acts in a manner at variance
with this divine ordination, it may be that his transgression does not
escape the notice of the gods, and that he is punished for neglecting
his own duties or performing those of his wife. It appears to me, said
I, that the queen-bee also performs duties that are assigned to her by
God. And what duties, said my wife, does the queen-bee perform, that
have any resemblance to those incumbent upon me? This, said I, that she
remains in the hive and does not allow the other bees to be idle, but
sends out those that have to work to their business, and knows and
receives what each brings in, and takes care of it till it is needed for
use. And when the time for using comes, she distributes to each her just
share. Besides this, she attends to the construction of the honey-combs
that goes on indoors, and sees that it is done properly and rapidly, and
carefully sees that the young swarm is properly reared. And when it is
old enough, and the young bees are fit for work, she sends them out, as
a colony, under the leadership of one of the old ones. And will it be my
duty, said my wife, to do these things? Exactly so, said I, it will be
your duty to remain indoors, to send out together to their work those
whose duties lie out of doors, and to superintend those who have to work
indoors, to receive whatever is brought in, to dispense whatever has to
be paid out, while the necessary surplus you must provide for, and take
care that the year's allowance be not spent in a month. When wool is
brought in to you, you must see that it is turned into cloth; and when
dried grain comes, that it is properly prepared for food. There is,
however, one of your duties, said I, that will perhaps seem somewhat
disagreeable to you. Whenever any one of the slaves is sick, you will
have to see that he is properly nursed, no matter who he is. Indeed,
said my wife, that will be a most pleasant duty, if those who have been
carefully nursed are going to be grateful and kindlier than they were
before. And I,' said Ischomachus, 'admiring her answer, continued: Don't
you suppose, my dear, that by such examples of care on the part of the
queen of the hive the bees are so disposed to her that, when she leaves,
none of them are willing to remain behind, but all follow her? And my
wife replied: I should be surprised if the duties of headship did not
fall to you rather than to me. For my guardianship and disposal of
things in the house would be ridiculous, unless you saw to it that
something was brought in from without. And my bringing-in would be
ridiculous, said I, if there were no one to take care of what I brought?
Don't you see, I said, how those who pour water into a leaky barrel, as
the expression is, are pitied, as wasting their labour? And indeed, said
my wife, they are to be pitied, if they do that. There are other
special duties, said I, that are sure to become pleasant to you; for
example, when you take a raw hand at weaving and turn her into an adept,
and so double her value to you, or when you take a raw hand at managing
and waiting and make her capable, reliable, and serviceable, so that she
acquires untold value, or when you have it in your power to reward those
male slaves that are dutiful and useful to your family, or to punish one
who proves the opposite of this. But the pleasantest thing of all will
be, if you prove superior to me, and make me your knight, and if you
need not fear that, as you advance in years, you will forfeit respect in
the house, but are sure that, as you grow older, the better a partner
you are to me, and the better a mother to the children, the more highly
you will be respected in the house. For all that is fair and good, said
I, increases for men, as life advances, not through beauties, but
through virtues. Such, Socrates, to the best of my recollection, was the
first conversation I had with my wife.'"

Ischomachus goes on and tells how, in subsequent conversations, he
taught his wife the value of order, "how to have a place for everything,
and everything in its place," how to train a servant, and how to make
herself attractive without the use of cosmetics or fine clothes. But
enough has been quoted to show what the ideal family relation among the
Athenians was, and what education was thought fitting for girls and
women. Just as the man was merged in the citizen, so the woman was
merged in the housewife, and they each received the education and
training demanded by their respective duties. If Athenian husbands had
all been like Ischomachus, it is clear that the lives of wives might
have been very happy and useful, and that harmony might have reigned in
the family. But, unfortunately, that was not very often the case. Wives,
being neglected, became lazy, wasteful, self-indulgent, shrewish, and
useless, while their husbands, finding them so, sought in immoral
relations with brilliant and cultivated _hetæræ_, or in worse relations
still, a coarse substitute for that satisfaction which they ought to
have sought and found in their own homes. Thus there grew up a condition
of things which could not fail to sap the moral foundations of society,
and which made thoughtful men turn their attention to the question of
woman's education and sphere of duty.




CHAPTER III

PLATO

    All human laws are nourished by the one divine law; for it
    prevaileth as far as it listeth, and sufficeth for all and surviveth
    all.--Heraclitus

    Though reason is universal, the mass of men live as if they had each
    a private wisdom of his own.--_Id._

    ANTIGONE. ... But him will I inter;
    And sweet 'twill be to die in such a deed,
    And sweet will be my rest with him, the sweet,
    When I have righteously offended here.
    For longer time, methinks, have I to please
    The dwellers in yon world than those in this;
    For I shall rest forever there. But thou,
    Dishonor still what's honored of the gods.
    --Sophocles, _Antigone_.

    The circle that gathered round Isaiah and his household in these
    evil days, holding themselves apart from their countrymen,
    treasuring the word of revelation, and waiting for Jehovah, were
    indeed, as Isaiah describes them, "signs and tokens in Israel from
    Jehovah of hosts that dwelleth in Mount Zion." The formation of this
    little community was a new thing in the history of religion. Till
    then no one had dreamed of a fellowship of faith dissociated from
    all national forms, maintained without the exercise of ritual
    services, bound together by faith in the divine word alone. It was
    the birth of a new era in the Old Testament religion, for it was the
    birth of the conception of the _Church_, the first step in the
    emancipation of spiritual religion from the forms of political
    life,--a step not less significant that all its consequences were
    not seen till centuries had passed away.--W. Robertson Smith,
    _Prophets of Israel_.

    Still at the prophets' feet the nations sit.--Lowell.

    That which is to be known I shall declare, knowing which a man
    attains immortality--the beginningless Supreme Brahma that is said
    to be neither Aught nor Naught.--_Bhagavad Gîtâ._

    The only Metaphysics which really and immediately sustains Ethics is
    one which is itself primarily ethical, and made of the staff of
    Ethics.--Schopenhauer.


In answer to the burning question, How can Athens be brought back to
moral life and strength? Socrates had answered, "By finding a new moral
sanction." He had even gone further, and said: "This sanction is to be
found in correct thinking, in thinking whole thoughts, which, because
they are whole, are absolutely true, being the very principles according
to which God governs the world." This is, obviously, a mere formal
answer. If it was to be of any real service, three further questions had
to be answered: (1) How can whole thoughts be reached? (2) What do they
prove to be when they are reached? (3) How can they be applied to the
moral reorganization of human life? Plato's philosophy is but an attempt
to answer these questions. It therefore naturally falls into three
divisions, (1) _Dialectics_, including Logic and Theory of Knowledge,
(2) _Theoretics_, including Metaphysics and Physics, (3) _Practics_,
including Ethics and Politics.

It is obvious that any attempt to reform society on Socratic principles
must proceed, not from society itself, but from some person or persons
in whom these principles are realized, and who act upon it from without.
These persons will be the philosophers or, rather, the sages. Two
distinct questions, therefore, present themselves at the outset: (1) How
does a man become a sage? (2) How can the sage organize human life, and
secure a succession of sages to continue his work after him? To the
first of these questions, dialectics gives the answer; to the second,
practics; while theoretics exhibits to us at once the origin and the
end, that is, the meaning, of all existence, the human included. In the
teaching of Plato we find, for the first time recognized and exhibited,
the extra-civic or super-civic man, the man who is not a mere fragment
of a social whole, completely subordinated to it, but who, standing
above society, moulds it in accordance with ideas derived from a higher
source. Forecasts of this man, indeed, we find in all Greek literature
from Homer down,--in Heraclitus, Sophocles, etc., and especially, as we
have seen, in Pythagoras;--but it is now for the first time that he
finds full expression, and tries to play a conscious part. In him we
have the promise of the future Church.

But to return to the first of our two questions, How does a man become a
sage? We found the answer to be, By the dialectic method. Of this,
however, not all men have the inclination to avail themselves, but only
a chosen few, to whom the gods have granted the inspiration of Love
(ἔρως)--a longing akin to madness (μανία), kindled by physical beauty,
but tending to the Supreme Good. This good, as we shall see, consists in
the vision (θεωρία) of eternal truth, of being, as it is. The few men
who are blessed with this love are the divinely appointed reformers and
guides of mankind, the well-being of which depends upon submission to
them. The dialectic method is the process by which the inspired mind
rises from the beauty of physical things, which are always particulars,
to the beauty of spiritual things, which are always universals, and
finally to the beauty of the Supreme Good, which is _The Universal_. The
man who has reached this last, and who sees its relation to all other
universals, so that they form together a correlated whole, sees all
truth, and is the sage. What we call universals Plato called "ideas"
(ἰδέαι = forms or species). These ideas he regards as genera, as
numbers, as active powers, and as substances, the highest of which is
God.

Two things are especially notable in connection with this theory: (1)
that it involves that Oriental ascetic view of life which makes men turn
away from the sensible world, and seek their end and happiness in the
colorless world of thought; (2) that it suggests a view of the nature of
God which comes perilously near to Oriental pantheism. Plato, indeed,
nowhere denies personality of God; but neither does he affirm it, and he
certainly leaves the impression that the Supreme Being is a force acting
according to a numerical ratio or law. It would be difficult to
overestimate the influence of these two views upon the subsequent course
of Greek education and life. The former suggested to the super-civic man
a sphere of activity which he could flatter himself was superior to the
civic, viz. a sphere of contemplation; while the second, by blurring, or
rather ignoring, the essential elements of personality in God, viz.
consciousness, choice, and will, left no place for a truly religious or
moral life. This explains why Platonism, while it has inspired no great
civic movement, has played such a determining part in ecclesiasticism,
and why, nevertheless, the Church for ages was compelled to fight the
tendencies of it, which it did in great measure under the ægis of
Plato's stern critic, Aristotle.

We are now ready to take up our second question: How can the sage
organize human life, and secure a succession of sages to continue his
work after him? Plato has given two widely different answers to this
question, in his two most extensive works, (1) the _Republic_, written
in his earlier life, when he was under the influence of Heraclitus,
Parmenides, and Socrates, and stood in a negative attitude toward the
real world of history, (2) the _Laws_, written toward the end of his
life, when he became reconciled, in part at least, to the real world and
its traditional beliefs, and found satisfaction and inspiration in the
teachings of Pythagoras. His change of allegiance is shown by the fact
that in the _Laws_, and in them alone, Socrates does not appear as a
character. We shall speak first of the _Republic_, and then point out
wherein the _Laws_ differs from it.

When Plato wrote his _Republic_, he was deeply impressed with the evils
and dangers of the social order in which he lived. This impression,
which was that of every serious man of the time, had in his case
probably been deepened by the teaching and the tragic death of Socrates.
The dangers were, obviously, the demoralization of Athenian men and
women, and the consequent weakening and dissolution of the social bonds.
The evils, as he saw them, were (1) the defective education of children,
(2) the neglect of women, (3) the general disorganization of the State
through individualism, which placed power in the hands of ignorance and
rapacity, instead of in those of wisdom and worth. The _Republic_ is a
scheme for removing these evils and averting the consequent dangers. It
is the Platonic sage's recipe for the healing of society, and it is but
fair to say that, of all the Utopian and æsthetic schemes ever proposed
for this end, it is incomparably the best. It proposes nothing less than
the complete transformation of society, without offering any hint as to
how a selfish and degraded people is to be induced to submit thereto. In
the transformed society, the State is all in all; the family is
abolished; women are emancipated and share in the education and duties
of men; the State attends to the procreation and education of children;
private property is forbidden. The State is but the individual writ
large, and the individual has three faculties, in the proper development
and coördination of which consists his well-being: the same, therefore,
must be true of the State. These faculties are (1) intellect or reason,
(λογιστικόν, λόγος, νοῦς, etc.), (2) spirit or courage (θυμός,
θυμοειδές), (3) desire or appetite (ἐπιθυμία, ἐπιθυμετικόν,
φιλοχρήματον). The first resides in the head, the second in the heart,
the third in the abdomen. The first is peculiar to man, the second he
shares with the animals, and the third with both animals and plants. The
proper relation of these faculties exists when reason, with clear
insight, rules the whole man (Prudence); when spirit takes its
directions from reason in its attitude toward pleasure and pain
(Fortitude); when spirit and appetite together come to an understanding
with reason as to when the one, and when the other, shall act
(Temperance); and, finally, when each of the three strictly confines
itself to its proper function (Justice). Thus we obtain the four
"cardinal virtues." As existing in the individual, they are relations
between his own faculties. It is only in the State that they are
relations between the individual and his fellows. Rather we ought to
say, they are relations between different classes of society; for
society is divided into three classes, marked by the predominance of one
or other of the three faculties of the soul. _First_, there is the
intelligent class,--the philosophers or sages; _second_, the spirited
class,--the military men or soldiers; _third_, the covetous class,--men
devoted to industry, trade, and money-making. The well-being of the
State, as of the individual, is secure only when the relations between
these classes are the four cardinal virtues; when the sages rule, and
the soldiers and money-makers accept this rule, and when each class
strictly confines itself to its own function, so, for example, that the
sages do not attempt to fight, the soldiers to make money, or the
money-makers to fight or rule. In the Platonic ideal State, accordingly,
the three classes dwell apart and have distinct functions. All the power
is in the hands of the philosophers, who dwell in lofty isolation,
devoted to the contemplation of divine ideas, and descending only
through grace to mingle with human affairs, as teachers and absolute
rulers, ruling without laws. Their will is enforced by the military
class, composed of both sexes, which lives outside the city, devoting
itself to physical exercises and the defence of the State. These two
classes together constitute the guardians (φύλακες) of the State, and
stand to each other in the relation of head and hand. They produce
nothing, own nothing, live sparingly, and, indeed, cherish a sovereign
contempt for all producing and owning, as well as for those who produce
and own. They find their satisfaction in the performance of their
functions, and the maintenance of virtue in the State. What small amount
of material good they require is supplied to them by the industrial
class, which they protect in the enjoyment of the only good it strives
after or can appreciate, the good of the appetites. This class, of
course, has no power, either directive or executive, being incapable of
any. It is, nevertheless, entirely happy in its condition of tutelage,
and, as far as virtue can be predicated of sensuality, virtuous, the
excesses of sensuality being repressed by the other two classes. Indeed,
the great merit which Plato claims for his scheme is, that it secures
harmony, and therefore happiness, for all, by placing every individual
citizen in the class to which by nature he belongs, that is, in which
his nature can find the fullest and freëst expression compatible with
the well-being of the whole. Such is Plato's political scheme, marked by
the two notorious Greek characteristics, love of harmony and contempt
for labor. It is curious to think that it foreshadowed three modern
institutions--the ecclesiastical hierarchy, the standing army, and the
industrial community, in which, however, the relations of power demanded
by Plato are almost reversed, with (it is only fair to say) the result
which he foresaw.

In trying to answer the question, By what means shall these classes be
sundered? Plato calmly assumes that his scheme is already in full
operation among grown people, so that the only difficulty remaining is
with regard to the children. And this is completely met by his scheme of
education. The State or, let us say at once, the philosophic class,
having abolished the family, and assumed its functions, determines what
number and kind of children it requires at any given time, and provides
for them as it would for sheep or kine. It brings together at festivals
the vigorous males and females, and allows them to choose their mates
for the occasion. As soon as the children are born, they are removed
from their mothers and taken charge of in State institutions, where the
feeble and deformed are at once destroyed. Any children begotten without
the authority of the State share the same fate, either before or after
birth. Those whose birth is authorized, and who prove vigorous, are
reared by the State, none of them knowing, or being known by, their
parents. But they by no means suffer any diminution of parentage on that
account; for every mature man regards himself as the father, and every
mature woman regards herself as the mother, of all the children born
within a certain time, so that every child has thousands of fathers and
mothers, all interested in his welfare; and the mothers, being relieved
from nearly all the duties of maternity, share equally with the men in
all the functions of the State.

The system of education to which the children of the State are subjected
is, to a large extent, modelled after that of Sparta, especially in
respect to its rigor and its absolutely political character. It
contains, however, a strong Ionic or Athenian element, notably on the
intellectual and æsthetic side. It may fairly claim to be intensely
Hellenic. It accepts the time-honored division of education into Music
and Gymnastics, making no distinct place for Letters, but including them
under Music. It demands that these two branches shall be pursued as
parts of a whole, calculated to develop, as far as may be, the
harmonious human being, and fit him to become part of the harmonious
State. I have said "as far as may be," because Plato believes that only
a small number of persons at any given time can be reduced to complete
harmony. These are the born philosophers, who, when their nature is
fully realized, no longer require the State, but stand, as gods, above
it. In truth, the State is needed just because the mass of mankind
cannot attain inner harmony, but would perish, were it not for the outer
harmony imposed by the philosophers. This is a sad fact, and would be
altogether disheartening, were it not for the belief, which Plato seems
to have derived from Pythagoras and the Egyptians, that those human
beings who fail to attain harmony in one life, will have opportunities
to do so in other lives, so long as they do not, by some awful and
malignant crime or crimes, show that they are utterly incapable of
harmony. Plato's scheme of political education, therefore, requires, as
its complement, the doctrines of individual immortality, of probation
continued through as many lives as may be necessary, and of the
possibility of final and eternal blessedness or misery. In fact, Plato
has a fully-developed eschatology, with an "other world," consisting of
three well-defined parts,--Elysium, Acheron, and
Tartarus,--corresponding to the Paradise, Purgatory, and Hell of
Catholic Christianity; with one important difference, however, due to
the doctrine of metempsychosis. While the Christian purgatory is a place
or state of purgation for souls whose probation is over forever, Acheron
is merely a place where imperfect souls remain till the end of a
world-period, or æon, of ten thousand years, when they are again allowed
to return to life and renew their struggle for that complete harmony
which is the condition of admission to the society of the gods.

It is from this eschatology that Plato derives the moral sanctions which
he employs in his State. It is true that no one has insisted with
greater force than he upon the truth that virtue is, in and for itself,
the highest human good; he believed, however, that this could be
appreciated only by the philosopher, who had experience of it, and that
for the lower orders of men a more powerful, though less noble, sanction
was necessary. Accordingly, he depicts the joys of Elysium in images
that could not but appeal to the Hellenic imagination, and paints
Tartarus in gruesome colors that would do honor to a St. Ignatius.

In order fully to understand the method of Plato's political education,
we must revert to Chapter III of Book I. There we saw that, according to
the Greeks, a complete education demanded three things, (1) a noble
nature, (2) training through habit, (3) instruction. For the first Plato
would do what can be done by artificial selection of parents; for the
second, he would depend upon music and gymnastics; for the third, upon
philosophy. In these last two divisions we have the root of the mediæval
_trivium_ and _quadrivium_. The Platonic pedagogical system seeks to
separate the ignoble from the noble natures, and to place the former in
the lowest class. It then trains the noble natures in music and
gymnastics, and, while this is going on, it tries to distinguish those
natures which are capable of rising above mere training to reflective or
philosophic thought, from those which are not. The latter it assigns to
the military class, which always remains at the stage of training, while
the former are instructed in philosophy, and, if they prove themselves
adepts, are finally admitted to the ruling class, as sages. Any member
of either of the higher classes who proves himself unworthy of that
class, may at any time be degraded into the next below.

As soon as the children are accepted by the State, their education under
State nurses begins. The chief efforts of these for some time are
directed to the bodies of the children, to seeing that they are healthy
and strong. As soon as the young creatures can stand and walk, they are
taught to exert themselves in an orderly way and to play little games;
and as soon as they understand what is said to them, they are told
stories and sung to. Such is their first introduction to gymnastics and
music. What games are to be taught, what stories told, and what airs
sung to the children, the State determines, and indeed, since the
character of human beings depends, in great measure, upon the first
impression made upon them, this is one of its most sacred duties. Plato
altogether disapproves of leaving children without guidance to seek
exercise and amusement in their own way, and demands that their games
shall be such as call forth, in a gentle and harmonious way, all the
latent powers of body and mind, and develop the sense of order, beauty,
and fitness. He is still more earnest in insisting that the stories told
to children shall be exemplifications of the loftiest morality, and the
airs sung to them such as settle, strengthen, and solemnize the soul. He
follows Heraclitus in demanding that the Homeric poems, so long the
storehouse for children's stories, shall be entirely proscribed, on
account of the false ideals which they hold up both of gods and heroes,
and the intimidating descriptions which they give of the other world.
Virtue, he holds, cannot be furthered by fear, which is characteristic
only of slaves. He thinks that all early intellectual training should be
a sort of play. The truth is, the infant-school of Plato's _Republic_
comes as near as can well be imagined to the ideal of the modern
kindergarten.

While this elementary education is going on, the officers of the State
have abundant opportunity for observing the different characters of the
children, and distinguishing the noble from the ignoble. As soon as a
child shows plainly that it belongs by nature to the lowest class, they
consign it to that class, and its education by the State practically
ceases. Of course these officers know from what class each child came,
and they make use of this knowledge in determining its future destiny.
At the same time, they are not to be entirely guided by it, but to act
impartially. The education of the lowest class after childhood the
State leaves to take care of itself, persuaded that appetite will always
find means for its own satisfaction. The nobler natures it continues to
educate, without any break, until they reach the age of twenty. And this
education is distinctly a military training. As time goes on, the
gymnastic exercises become more violent, more complex, and more
sustained, but always have for their subject the soul, rather than the
body, and never degenerate into mere athletic brutality. Special
attention is directed to the musical and literary exercises, as the
means whereby the soul is directly trained and harmonized. Plato holds
that no change can be made in the "music" of a State, without a
corresponding change in the whole organization; in other words, that the
social and political condition of a people is determined by the
literature and music which it produces and enjoys. He virtually says,
Let me make the songs of a people, and he who will may make their laws.
Of the character of the music which he recommends we have already
spoken. From literature he would exclude all that we are in the habit of
calling by that name, all that is mimetic, poetic, or creative, and
confine the term to what is scientific, didactic, and edifying. He sends
the poets out of the State with mock-reverent politeness, as creatures
too divine for human use. He is particularly severe upon the dramatists,
not sparing even the sublime Æschylus. In fact, he would banish from his
State all art not directly edifying. The literature which he recommends
is plainly of the nature of Æsop's _Fables_, the Pythagorean _Golden
Words_, and the Parmenidean or Heraclitean work _On Nature_. If we
wished to express his intent in strictly modern language, we should have
to say that he desired to replace literary training by ethical and
scientific, and the poetical mode of presenting ideals by the prosaic.
The true music, he held, is in the human being. "If we find," he says,
"a man who perfectly combines gymnastics with music, and in exact
proportion applies them to the soul, we shall be entirely justified in
calling him the perfect musician and the perfect trainer, far superior
to the man who arranges strings alongside each other."

There are many matters of detail in Plato's scheme of military training
that well deserve consideration, but cannot be even touched upon here.
Before we leave it, however, we may give the dates at which the
different branches of education are to begin. Care of the body begins at
birth, story-telling with the third year, gymnastics with the seventh,
writing and reading with the tenth, letters and music with the
fourteenth, mathematics with the sixteenth, military drill, which for
the time supplants all other training, with the eighteenth. When the
young people reach the age of twenty, those who show no great capacity
for science, but are manly and courageous, are assigned to the soldier
class, and start on a course of higher education in military training,
while those who evince great intellectual ability become novices in the
ruling class, and begin a curriculum in science, which lasts till the
close of their thirtieth year. This course includes arithmetic,
geometry, and astronomy, the only sciences at that time cultivated, and
aims at impressing upon the youthful mind the unity and harmony of the
physical or phenomenal universe. At the age of thirty, those students
who do not show any particular aptitude for higher studies are drafted
off into the lower public offices, while those who do, pass five years
in the study of dialectics, whereby they rise to pure ideas. They are
then, from their thirty-fifth to their fiftieth year, made to fill the
higher public offices, in which they take their orders directly from the
sages. During this period they put their acquirements to a practical
test, and so come really and fully into possession of them. At the end
of their fiftieth year, after half a century of continuous education of
body, mind, and will, they are reckoned to have reached the vision of
the supreme good, and therefore to be fit to enter the contemplative
ruling class. They are now free men; they have reached the goal of
existence; their life is hidden with God; they are free from the prison
of the body, and only remain in it voluntarily, and out of gratitude to
the State which has educated them, in order to direct it, in accordance
with absolute truth and right, toward the Supreme Good.

Such, in its outlines, is Plato's theory of education, as set forth in
the _Republic_. It is easy to point out its defects and its errors,
which are neither small nor few, but fundamental and all-pervasive. But
it is equally easy to see how it came to have these defects and errors,
since they are simply those of every æsthetic social scheme which
ignores the nature of the material with which it presumes to deal, and
takes no account of the actual history of social institutions or of the
forces by which they are evolved. It is emphatically the product of a
youthful intellect, carried away by an artistic ideal. It was, however,
the intellect of a Plato, who, when he became more mature, saw, without
"irreverence for the dreams of youth," the feebleness of ideas for the
conflict with human frailties, and strove to correct his exaggerated
estimate of their power.

This he did in the _Laws_, whose very title suggests, in a way almost
obtrusive, the change of attitude and allegiance. While in the
_Republic_ the State is governed by sages, almost entirely without laws,
in the later work, the sages almost disappear and the laws assume an
all-important place. In writing the _Laws_, moreover, he exchanges
allegiance to Socrates and ideas for allegiance to Pythagoras and the
gods. In saying this, I have marked the fundamental difference between
the _Republic_ and the _Laws_. While in the former Plato finds the moral
sanctions, in the last resort, in the ideas of the pure intellect,
trained in mathematics, astronomy, and dialectics, in the latter he
derives them from the content of the popular consciousness, with its
gods, its ethical notions, its traditions. In these, as embodied in
institutions, he finds the most serviceable, if not the most exalted,
revelation of divine truth. Trusting to this, he no longer seeks to
abolish the family and private property, but merely to have them
regulated; he no longer banishes strangers and poets from his State, but
merely subjects them to State supervision; he no longer demands a
philosophical training for the rulers, but only practical insight; he no
longer divides his citizens into sages, soldiers, and wealth-producers,
but into freemen (corresponding to his previous military class) and
slaves. His government is no longer an aristocracy of intellect, but a
compound of aristocracy, oligarchy, and democracy, representing,
respectively, worth, wealth, and will. His plan of education is modified
to suit these altered conditions. The children, as in Sparta, do not
begin the State course of education until about their seventh year,
after which their training is very much the same as that demanded in the
_Republic_, with the omission, of course, of dialectics. Though women
are no longer to be relieved of their home duties, they are still to
share in the education and occupations of men, an arrangement which is
facilitated by the law ordaining that both men and women shall eat at
public tables. In making these changes, Plato believed that he was
falling from a lofty, but unrealizable, ideal, and making concessions to
human weakness; in reality, he was approaching truth and right.




BOOK III

ARISTOTLE (B.C. 384-322)




CHAPTER I

ARISTOTLE--LIFE AND WORKS

    Aristotle, in my opinion, stands almost alone in
    philosophy.--Cicero.

    Aristotle, Nature's private secretary, dipping his pen in
    intellect.--Eusebius.

    Wherever the divine wisdom of Aristotle has opened its mouth, the
    wisdom of others, it seems to me, is to be disregarded.--Dante.

    I could soon get over Aristotle's _prestige_, if I could only get
    over his reasons.--Lessing.

    If, now in my quiet days, I had youthful faculties at my command, I
    should devote myself to Greek, in spite of all the difficulties I
    know. Nature and Aristotle should be my sole study. It is beyond all
    conception what that man espied, saw, beheld, remarked, observed. To
    be sure he was sometimes hasty in his explanations; but are we not
    so, even to the present day?--Goethe (at 78).

    If the proper earnestness prevailed in philosophy, nothing would be
    more worthy of establishing than a foundation for a special
    lectureship on Aristotle; for he is, of all the ancients, the most
    worthy of study.--Hegel.

    Aristotle was one of the richest and most comprehensive geniuses
    that ever appeared--a man beside whom no age has an equal to
    place.--_Id._

    Physical philosophy occupies itself with the general qualities of
    matter. It is an abstraction from the dynamic manifestations of the
    different kinds of matter; and even where its foundations were first
    laid, in the eight books of Aristotle's _Physical Lectures_, all the
    phenomena of nature are represented as the motive vital activity of
    a universal world-force.--Alexander von Humboldt.

    It was characteristic of this extraordinary genius to work at both
    ends of the scientific process. He was alike a devotee to facts and
    a master of the highest abstractions.--Alexander Bain.

    Aristotle is the _Father of the Inductive Method_, and he is so for
    two reasons: First, he theoretically recognized its essential
    principles with a clearness, and exhibited them with a conviction,
    which strike the modern man with amazement; and then he made the
    first comprehensive attempt to apply them to all the science of the
    Greeks.--Wilhelm Oncken.

    Aristotle, for whose political philosophy our admiration rises, the
    more we consider the work of his successors, is less guided by
    imagination than Plato, examines reality more carefully, and
    recognizes more acutely, the needs of man.--Bluntschli.

    It appears to me that there can be no question, that Aristotle
    stands forth, not only as the greatest figure in antiquity, but as
    the greatest intellect that has ever appeared upon the face of this
    earth.--George J. Romanes.

    Aristotle, with all the wisdom of Plato before him, which he was
    well able to appropriate, could find no better definition of the
    true good of man than the full exercise or realization of the soul's
    faculties in accordance with its proper excellence, which was
    excellence of thought, speculative and practical.--Thomas Hill
    Green.


It is pretty definitely settled, among men competent to form a judgment,
that Aristotle was the best educated man that ever walked on the surface
of this earth. He is still, as he was in Dante's time, the "master of
those that know." It is, therefore, not without reason that we look to
him, not only as the best exponent of ancient education, but as one of
the worthiest guides and ensamples in education generally. That we may
not lose the advantage of his example, it will be well, before we
consider his educational theories, to cast a glance at his life, the
process of his development, and his work.

Aristotle was born about B.C. 384, in the Greek colony of Stagira in
Thrace, near the borders of Macedonia. His father, Nicomachus, was a
physician of good standing, the author of several medical works, and the
trusted friend of Amyntas, the Macedonian King. His mother, Phæstis, was
descended from the early settlers of the place. It was doubtless under
his father's guidance that the boy Aristotle first became interested in
those physical studies in which he was destined to do such wonderful
work. Losing, however, both his parents at an early age, he came under
the charge of Proxenus, of Atarneus, who appears to have done his duty
by him. At the age of eighteen he came to Athens for his higher
education, and entered the school of Plato in the Academy. Here he
remained for nearly twenty years, listening to Plato, and acquiring
those vast stores of information which in later life he worked up into
lectures and scientific treatises. Nothing escaped him, neither art,
science, religion, philosophy, nor politics. He seems, being well off,
to have begun early to collect a library, and to aim at encyclopædic
knowledge. About his methods of study we know very little; but we hear
that at times he assisted Plato in his work and was very careful of his
own attire. It is clear that, in course of time, he rose in thought
above the teachings of his master, and even rejected the most
fundamental of them, the doctrine of self-existent ideas. But he never
lost respect for that master, and when the latter died, he retired with
Xenocrates, son of the new head of the Academy, to Atarneus, the home
of his old guardian Proxenus, and of his fellow-Academic, Hermias, now
king or tyrant of the place. Here he remained for three years, in the
closest intimacy with his friend, until the latter was treacherously
murdered by the Persians. He then crossed over to Mytilene, taking with
him Pythias, Hermias' sister or niece, whom he had married, and to whom
he was deeply devoted. He erected in Delphi a statue to his dead friend,
and dedicated to him a poem, of which we shall hear more in the sequel.
About B.C. 343, when he was over forty years old, he was called to
Macedonia, as tutor to Alexander, the thirteen-year-old son of King
Philip, and grandson of his own father's old patron, Amyntas. This
office he filled for about three years with distinguished success, and
it may be safely said that never had so great a tutor so great a pupil.
During the latter part of the time, at least, Aristotle and Alexander
seem to have lived at Stagira. This town had been captured and destroyed
by Philip, and its inhabitants scattered. With the permission of the
conqueror, Aristotle reassembled the inhabitants, rebuilt the town, drew
up its laws, and laid out near it, at Mieza, in imitation of the
Academy, a gymnasium and park, which he called the _Nymphæum_. Hither he
appears to have retired with his royal pupil and several other youths
who were receiving education along with him, among them Theophrastus and
the ill-fated Callisthenes. It was probably here that Aristotle adopted
the habit of walking while imparting instruction, a habit which
afterwards gave the name to his school. When Alexander, at sixteen,
entered his father's army, Aristotle still continued to teach in the
Nymphæum, which existed even in Plutarch's time, more than four hundred
years afterwards. But this lasted only for about five years; for in 335,
when Alexander, who in the previous year had succeeded his murdered
father, was preparing to invade Persia, Aristotle moved to Athens.
Finding that his old friend, Xenocrates, was director of the school in
the Academy, he established himself, as a public teacher or professor,
in the Lyceum, the Periclean gymnasium, used chiefly, it should seem, by
the lower classes and by foreign residents, of whom he himself was one.
As an alien, as the friend of the victorious Macedonians, who three
years before had broken the power of Greece at Chæronea, and taken away
her autonomy forever, as a rival of the Platonists, and as a wealthy,
well-dressed gentleman, he had many enemies and detractors; but his
conduct seems to have been so unobjectionable that no formal charge
could be brought against him. His very numerous pupils were mostly
foreigners, a fact not without its influence on the subsequent course of
thought. He divided his days between writing and teaching, taking his
physical exercise while engaged in the latter occupation. In the
mornings he gave lectures to a narrow circle, in a strictly formal and
scientific way, upon the higher branches of science; while in the
afternoons he conducted conversations upon more popular themes with a
less select audience. The former were called his esoteric, the latter
his exoteric, discourses.

It was during his second residence in Athens, in the twelve years from
B.C. 335 to 323, that Aristotle composed most of those great works in
which he sought to sum up, in an encyclopædic way, the results of a
life of all-embracing study and thought. He had been in no haste to put
himself on record, and it was not until he had reached a consistent view
of the world that he ventured to treat, in a definitive way, any aspect
of it. Thus it was that each of his treatises formed part of one great
whole of thought. Had he succeeded in completing his plan, he would have
left to the world a body of science such as, even in our own day, would
look in vain for a peer among the works of any one man. Unfortunately,
his plan was not completed, and even of the works which he did write
only a portion has come down to us. But that portion is sufficient to
place their author at the head of all scientific men. Some of his works,
for example, his _Logic_, _Metaphysics_, _Ethics_, and _Politics_, still
occupy the first place in the literature of these subjects. How a single
man could have done all that he did, and in so many different
departments, is almost inconceivable. No doubt he had helpers, in the
shape of secretaries, learned slaves, and disciples; and it is certain
that he received from his royal pupil munificent aid, which enabled him
to do much, especially in the directions of physical and political
research, that would have been impossible for a poor man; but, after all
allowances have been made, his achievement still seems almost
miraculous.

During all the years in which Aristotle was thus engaged, his position
at Athens was becoming more and more insecure. The anti-Macedonian party
were waiting for the first opportunity to rid the city of him, and were
prevented from open attempts at this only by dread of Alexander's
displeasure. Even when it was known that Aristotle had incurred disfavor
with his old pupil, they did not venture to attack him; but in 323, when
the news of Alexander's sudden death made all Greece feel that now the
time had come to get rid forever of the hated Macedonians, and recover
its liberty, they at once gave vent to their long-cherished hatred. How
hard it was to find matter for an accusation against him, is shown by
the fact that they had to go back to his old poem on _Worth_, written in
memory of Hermias (see p. 4), and to base thereon a charge of impiety--a
charge always easily made, and always sure to arouse strong popular
prejudice. According to Athenian law, the defendant in any such case
might, if he chose, escape punishment by leaving the city any time
before the trial; and Aristotle, not being, like Socrates, a citizen,
could have no ground for refusing to take advantage of this liberty.
Accordingly, with the remark that he would not voluntarily allow the
Athenians to sin a second time against philosophy, he withdrew to his
country residence at Chalcis in Eubœa, the old home of his mother's
family, to wait till affairs should take another turn, as, indeed, they
soon afterwards did, when Athens had to open her gates to Antipater.
But, ere that happened, Aristotle was in his grave, having died in 322,
shortly before Demosthenes, of disease of the stomach, from which he had
long suffered. His remains are said to have been carried to Stagira,
where the grateful inhabitants erected an altar over them and paid
divine honors to his memory. His library and the manuscripts of his
works he left in the hands of Theophrastus, who succeeded him in the
Lyceum. His will, the text of which has come down to us, bears
testimony, along with all else that we know of him, to the nobility,
kindliness, and justice of his nature.




CHAPTER II

ARISTOTLE'S PHILOSOPHY

    Platon rêvait; Aristote pensait.--Alfred de Musset.

    Are God and Nature then at strife
    That Nature lends such evil dreams?
    --Tennyson.

    There are three Essences. Two of these are sensible; one being
    eternal, and the other perishable. The latter is admitted by all, in
    the form, for example, of plants and animals; in regard to the
    former, or eternal one, we shall have to consider its elements, and
    see whether they be one or many. The third is immutable [and,
    therefore, inaccessible to sense], and this some thinkers hold to be
    transcendent.--Aristotle.

    The vision of the divine is what is sweetest and best; and if God
    always enjoys that vision as we sometimes do, it is wonderful, and
    if he does so in a yet higher degree, it is more wonderful still.
    And so even it is. And life belongs to him; for the
    self-determination of thought is life, and he is self-determination.
    And his absolute self-determination is the supreme and eternal life.
    And we call God a living being, eternal, best; so that life and
    duration, uniform and eternal, belong to God; for this is
    God.--_Id._

    We must consider in what way the system of the universe contains the
    good and the best, whether as something transcendent and
    self-determined, or as order. Surely in both ways at once, as in any
    army, for which the good is in order, and is the general, and the
    latter more than the former. For the general is not due to the
    order, but the order to the general.--_Id._


The thought of Aristotle differs from that of Plato both in its method
and in its results. Plato, reared in the school of Pythagoras,
Parmenides, Heraclitus, and Socrates, had, naturally enough, come to
look for truth in the supersensual region of mind, and thought he found
it in ideas attainable by a process of dialectic within the individual
consciousness. He thus came to put forward a doctrine which, despite its
ostensible purpose to cement the bonds of society, in reality tended to
withdraw men from society altogether and increase the very individualism
it was intended to cure. Aristotle, while still in Plato's school, had
turned away from this doctrine, and in after-life he never lost an
opportunity of combating it. He could point to Plato's _Republic_ as a
warning example of its logical consequences. But, in doing this, he was
prepared to put another doctrine in its place, and he did so on the
basis of a profound study of the whole course of Greek thought,
mythological and philosophical.

Instead of appealing, like Plato, to the individual consciousness, and
trying to discover ultimate truth by bringing its data into harmony
among themselves, Aristotle appeals to the historic consciousness, and
endeavors to find truth by harmonizing and complementing its data
through a further appeal to the outer world, in which these data are
realized. He maintains that the truths reached by the dialectic process
are merely formal, and therefore empty,--useless in practice, until they
have been filled by experience from the storehouse of nature. In
consequence of this changed attitude, he sets aside the dialectic
process, and substitutes for it the _Method of Induction_, which he was
the first man in the world to comprehend, expound, and apply, becoming
thus the father of all true science. And he makes a more extensive use
of induction than any other man since his time, applying it in a field
in which even now it is hardly supposed to yield any results, the field
of the common consciousness. Indeed, he everywhere begins his search for
concrete truth by examining the historic consciousness, and, having, by
a process of induction, discovered and generalized its contents, he
turns with these to nature and, by a second induction, corrects,
completes, and harmonizes them. We might express this in modern
language, by saying that his whole endeavor is to correct and supplement
the imperfect human consciousness by a continual appeal to the divine
consciousness, _as manifested in the world_. It is the error of modern
investigators that they employ only one-half of the inductive method,
the objective, and either omit altogether the subjective, or else, like
Plato, apply it only to the individual consciousness. Hence come the
widely divergent results which still meet us in so many of the sciences,
in Politics, Psychology, etc., hence the fact that a great deal of
science, instead of correcting, widening, and harmonizing the common
consciousness, stands altogether apart from it, or even in direct
opposition to it. The man who writes a treatise on Psychology, or on the
Soul, without troubling himself to discover what "Soul" means in the
general consciousness of mankind, and perhaps setting out with an
altogether individual notion of it, can hardly look for any other
result. Aristotle, true to his method of induction, devotes one entire
book of his _Psychology_ to finding out what "Soul" means in the
historic consciousness, unreflective as well as reflective. Then, with
this meaning, he goes to nature, seeks by induction to discover what
she has to say about it, and abides by her reply. Hence it is that his
thought has laid hold upon the world, and influenced it in practical
ways, as no other man's thought has ever done. Hence it is that, of all
ancient men, he is the one before whom the modern scientist bows with
respect.

If we now ask ourselves what was the underlying thought that shaped
Aristotle's theory of induction, what was his _Weltanschauung_, we shall
find it to be this: The divine intelligence reveals itself subjectively
in an historic process in the human consciousness, and objectively[4] in
a natural process in the outer world. Truth for man is the harmony of
the two revelations. It follows directly from this that the scientist
must take impartial account of both. So, for example, if he finds gods
in the historical consciousness, and laws or forces in nature, he has no
right, like the theologian, to merge the latter in the former, or, like
the physicist, to replace the former by the latter. He must retain both
till he can bring them into harmony. Only then does he know either.

Such a philosophy as this, instead of drawing men away from the world of
nature and history, and confining them to the narrow circle of their own
consciousness, of necessity sent them back to that world, as the only
means by which any human well-being could be reached. It is for this
reason that it has so powerfully affected both social life and science.
Nevertheless, we should err greatly, if we supposed that, in
Aristotle's view, the divine is nothing more than an immanent idea,
working as a force-form in nature, and as a thought-form in mind. He
does, indeed, believe that the divine is all this, but not that this is
all the divine there is. Over and above the divine which is determined
in nature and in man, there is the transcendent Mind, or God,
determining himself through himself, and bearing the same relation to
the divine that the sun bears to light, the human mind to human thought,
the general to the order of his army. Here we are far away from
Pantheism, and, though we have not yet risen to a clear conception of
personality, we have at the "helm of the universe" a conscious being,
the source of law and order. And man, rising above the thought whereby
he knows himself through nature, and nature through himself, may enter
into the consciousness of God and become a partaker in that life which
is "sweetest and best." These are the features of Aristotle's thought
which in the thirteenth century made it acceptable to the Christian
Church in her struggle against Pantheism, and which paved the way for
that higher mysticism of which Thomas Aquinas is the most distinguished
exponent--a mysticism which does not, like that of the Neoplatonists and
Buddhists, dispense with thought to lose itself in vacancy, but which,
rising upon a broad basis of knowledge, pierces the clouds of sense, to
find itself in the presence of the most concrete Reality, the
inexhaustible source of all thought and all things.




CHAPTER III

ARISTOTLE'S THEORY OF THE STATE

    First, then, let us try to enumerate whatever worthy utterances have
    proceeded from men of the past upon any aspect of the subject, and
    then, referring to our collections of _Constitutional Histories_,
    let us seek to arrive at a theory as to what sorts of things
    preserve and destroy each particular form of government, and see for
    what reasons some are well, some ill, managed. Succeeding in this,
    we may, perhaps, the better learn both what is the best form of
    government, and what arrangements, laws, and customs are best suited
    to each form.--Aristotle.

    Man is a political animal.--_Id._

    The State is prior to the individual.--_Id._

    Without friends no one would choose to live, although he possessed
    all other blessings.--_Id._

    If happiness be self-determination in accordance with worth, we must
    conclude that it will be in accordance with the supreme worth, which
    will be the worth of the noblest part of us. This part, whatever it
    may be, whether intellect (νοῦς) or something else, that which by
    nature evidently rules and guides us and has insight into things
    beautiful and divine, whether it be itself divine, or the divinest
    part of us, is that whose self-determination, in accordance with its
    proper worth, will be the perfect happiness. That this consists in
    the vision of divine things has already been said.... This, indeed,
    is the supreme self-determination, for the reason that intellect is
    the highest part of us, and that with which it deals is the highest
    of the knowable.... But a life of this sort would be something
    higher than the human; for he who lived it would not be living as
    man, but as the subject of something divine.... If, then, intellect
    is something divine in relation to man, the life lived according to
    it must be divine in relation to human life. Instead, then, of
    following those who advise us, as being human, to set our thoughts
    upon human things, and, as being mortals, to set them on mortal
    things, it is our duty, as far as may be, to act as immortal beings,
    and do all we can to live in accordance with the supreme part of
    us.--Aristotle.

    Man alone, among all beings, occupies a middle place between things
    corruptible and things incorruptible.... Two ends, therefore,
    Ineffable Providence has ordained for man: Blessedness in this life,
    which consists in the exercise of native faculty, and is figured by
    the Earthly Paradise, and blessedness in the eternal life, which
    consists in the enjoyment of the vision of God, a thing not to be
    achieved by any native faculty, unless aided by divine light, and
    which is to be understood by the Heavenly Paradise.... These ends
    and means would be disregarded by human passion, if men were not
    restrained in their course by bit and bridle.... For this reason man
    required a double directive, corresponding to this double end. He
    required the Supreme Pontiff to guide the human race to life
    eternal, and the Emperor to guide the human race to temporal
    felicity, in accordance with the teachings of philosophy.... The
    truth with regard to the question whether the authority of the
    Emperor is derived directly from God or from another, must not be
    taken so strictly as to mean that the Roman Prince is not, in some
    respects, subject to the Roman Pontiff, the fact being that this
    mortal felicity of ours is, in some sense, ordained with a view to
    immortal felicity. Let Cæsar, therefore, display that reverence for
    Peter which the first-born son ought to display for his father, so
    that, being illuminated by his father's grace, he may with greater
    virtue enlighten the world, which he has been called to govern by
    Him who is governor of all things, spiritual and temporal.--Dante.

    O Grace abounding, whence I did presume
        To fix my gaze upon the eternal light
        So far that I consumed my sight therein!
    Within its deeps I saw internalized
        Into one volume, bound with love,
        That which is outered in the universe;--
    Substance and accident, and all their modes,
        As 'twere, together merged in such a sort
        That what I mean is but a simple light.
    The universal form of this same knot
        I think I saw, because, when thus I speak,
        I feel that I rejoice with larger joy.--_Id._

    Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him
    forever.--_Westminster Shorter Catechism_.


Plato's chief purpose, in writing upon education, had been to suggest a
remedy for the social and moral conditions of his native Athens.
Aristotle has no such purpose. He is, in a very deep sense, a
cosmopolitan, and writes in the interest of science and universal
utility. His range of vision is not confined to Athens, or even to
Greece (though he is very proud of being a Greek), but ranges over the
whole known world in time and space. Unlike Plato, too, who had been
familiar mainly with institutions of the past in Egypt and Greece,
Aristotle is deeply affected by the tendencies of the future, and,
though no one lays greater stress than he upon the necessity of a
knowledge of the past for him who would construct a sound social theory,
he nevertheless declares that the whole of the past is shaped by
something which is in the future, by the ultimate realization. This view
comes out in a paradoxical way in his famous saying that "the State is
prior to the individual," by which he means that it is man's political
nature working in him that makes him an individual, and at the same time
realizes itself in a State. And this brings us to Aristotle's conception
of the State, which we must consider before taking up his theory of
education, for the reason that to him, as to all the ancient world,
education is a function of the State, and is conducted, primarily at
least, for the ends of the State.

Before venturing upon a theory of the State, Aristotle, true to his
inductive principles, wrote the Constitutional Histories of over two
hundred and fifty different states. One of these, the _Constitutional
History of Athens_, has recently been discovered and published (see p.
96). He held that it was only by means of a broad induction, thus
rendered possible, that he could discover the idea of the State, that
is, its self-realizing form. Employing this method, then, he came to the
conclusion that the State is that highest social institution which
secures the highest good or happiness of man. Having, in a previous
treatise, satisfied himself that this good is Worth (ἀρετή), and worth
being in every case the full exercise of characteristic or
differentiating faculty, he concludes that, since man's distinguishing
faculty is reason, the State is the institution which secures to man the
fullest and freëst exercise of this. It follows directly that the State
is, simply and solely, the supreme educational institution, the
university to which all other institutions are but preparatory. And two
more conclusions follow: (1) that states will differ in constitution
with the different educational needs of the peoples among whom they
exist, and (2) that, since all education is but a preparation for some
worthy activity, political education, the life of man as a citizen, is
but a preparation for the highest activity, which, because it is
highest, must necessarily be an end in itself. This activity, Aristotle
argues, can be none other than contemplation, the Vision of the Divine
(θεωρία).

Results which have moved the world followed logically from this
doctrine. Whereas Plato had made provision for a small and select body
of super-civic men, and so paved the way for religious monasticism and
asceticism, Aristotle maintains that in every civilized man, as such,
there is a super-civic part, in fact, a superhuman and divine part, for
the complete realization of which all the other parts, and the State
wherein they find expression, are but means. Here we have, in embryo,
the whole of Dante's theory of the relation of Church and State, a
theory which lies at the basis of all modern political effort, however
little the fact may be recognized. Here, indeed, we have the whole
framework of the _Divine Comedy_; here too we have the doctrine of the
Beatific Vision, which for ages shaped and, to a large extent, still
shapes, the life of Christendom. Well might Dante claim Aristotle as his
master (see p. 153)! Well might the great doctors of the Church speak of
him as "_The_ Philosopher," and as the "Forerunner of Christ in Things
Natural." In vain did Peter Ramus and Luther and Bruno and Bacon
depreciate or anathematize him! He is more powerful to-day in thought
and life than at any time for the last twenty-two centuries.

It may be asked how far, and in what form, Aristotle conceives the
divine life to be possible for man on earth. He answers that, though it
cannot be perfectly or continuously realized here, it is in some degree
and for certain times attainable (see p. 161). In so far as it is a
social life, it is the life of friendship or spiritual love (φιλία), to
which he has devoted almost two books of his _Ethics_, books which give
us a loftier idea of his personal purity and worth than any other of his
extant writings. He insists that friendship is the supreme blessing (see
p. 166), and that "whatever a man's being is, or whatever he chooses to
live for, in that he wishes to spend his life in the company of his
friends." It is even said that Aristotle, while teaching in the Lyceum,
gathered about him a knot of noble youths and earnest students, and
formed them into a kind of community, with a view to leading a truly
spiritual social life.




CHAPTER IV

ARISTOTLE'S PEDAGOGICAL STATE

    Nature is the beginning of everything.--Aristotle.

    Life is more than meat, and the body than raiment.--Jesus.

    The forces of the human passions in us, when completely repressed,
    become more vehement; but when they are called into action for short
    time and in the right degree, they enjoy a measured delight, are
    soothed, and, thence being purged away, cease in a kindly, instead
    of a violent, way. For this reason, in tragedy and comedy, through
    being spectators of the passions of others, we still our own
    passions, render them more moderate, and purge them away; and so,
    likewise, in the temples, by seeing and hearing base things, we are
    freed from the injury that would come from the actual practice of
    them.--Jamblichus.

    Care for the body must precede care for the soul; next to care for
    the body must come care for the appetites; and, last of all, care
    for the intelligence. We train the appetites for the sake of the
    intelligence, and the body for the sake of the soul.--Aristotle.

    The practice of abortion was one to which few persons in antiquity
    attached any deep feeling of condemnation.... The physiological
    theory that the fœtus did not become a living creature till the hour
    of birth had some influence on the judgments passed upon this
    practice. The death of an unborn child does not appeal very
    powerfully to the feeling of compassion, and men who had not yet
    attained any strong sense of the sanctity of human life, who
    believed that they might regulate their conduct on these matters by
    utilitarian views, according to the general interest of the
    community, might very readily conclude that prevention of birth was
    in many cases an act of mercy. In Greece, Aristotle not only
    countenanced the practice, but even desired that it should be
    enforced by law, when population had exceeded certain assigned
    limits. No law in Greece, or in the Roman Republic, or during the
    greater part of the Empire, condemned it.... The language of the
    Christians from the very beginning was very different. With
    unwavering consistency and with the strongest emphasis, they
    denounced the practice, not simply as inhuman, but as definitely
    murder.--Lecky, _European Morals_.

    Aristotle clearly saw that the strong tendency of the human race to
    increase, unless corrected by strict and positive laws, was
    absolutely fatal to every system founded on equality of property;
    and there cannot surely be a stronger argument against any system of
    this kind than the necessity of such laws as Aristotle himself
    proposes.... He seems to be fully aware that to encourage the birth
    of children, without providing properly for their support, is to
    obtain a very small accession to the population of a country, at the
    expense of a very great accession of misery.--Malthus, _Essay on
    Population_.


Considering Aristotle's views with regard to man, his end, and the
function of the State, we can have little difficulty in divining the
character and method of his educational system. Man is a being endowed
with reason; his end is the full realization of this, his sovereign and
distinguishing faculty; the State is the means whereby this is
accomplished.

Readers of Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_ will remember the description, in
the second part, of the Pedagogical Province. Now, Aristotle's State
might with entire propriety be called a Pedagogical Province. In trying
to describe this State, and the manner in which it discharges its
function, it is difficult to know where to begin, for the reason that,
taken as a whole, the State is both teacher and pupil. It arranges the
whole scheme of education, and is therefore related to it as cause; it
is built up by this scheme, and is therefore related to it as effect. It
comes, accordingly, both at the beginning and at the end. It is a
university which arranges the entire scheme of education, and is itself
its highest grade. I shall try to surmount this difficulty by
distinguishing what the State is from what it does, beginning with the
former, and ending with the latter.

With regard to what the State is, we have to consider (1) its natural,
(2) its social, conditions. The former are climate, and extent, nature,
and situation of territory; the latter, number and character of
inhabitants, property regulations, distinction of classes, city
architecture, mode of life, government, and relations to other states.

Aristotle demands for his State a temperate climate, on the ground that
a cold one renders men strong and bold, but dull and stupid, while a hot
one renders them intellectual but effeminate. The best climate is one
that makes them at once brave and intelligent. The territory must be
extensive enough, and fertile enough, to supply its inhabitants with all
the material conditions of life in answer to labor which shall rouse,
without exhausting, their energies. It must face east or south, and be
healthy, well-watered, accessible from land and sea, and easily
defensible.

As to the social conditions, Aristotle finds the most important to be
the number of citizens. And here two things must be carefully borne in
mind. (1) He means by "State" a city with a small territory. This is
not, as has been erroneously supposed, his highest social unity. He
recognizes clearly the nation (ἔθνος) and the confederacy (συμμαχία);
but he holds that they exist merely for material ends, whereas the end
of the State is spiritual. (2) He means by "citizen" a politician. A man
is a citizen, not because he is born or domiciled in a State, but
because he is a sharer in its functions. A State made up of mechanics,
no matter how great their number, would be a small State, and one
composed of slaves would be no State at all. Thus, in estimating the
size of a State, we are to consider the character of its inhabitants,
their fitness for political functions, rather than their number. Little
Athens was a much larger State than gigantic Persia on the field of
Marathon. Aristotle lays down that the number of citizens must be large
enough to insure independence, this being essential to a Culture-State,
and not too large to be manageable. Besides the citizens, there will
necessarily be in the State a very large number of other human beings,
slaves, agriculturists, mechanics, sailors--for all these he excludes
from citizenship on the ground that they do not make virtue, that is,
the realization of reason, the end of their lives. Women, in a sense,
are citizens, if they belong to the families of citizens; but their
sphere is the family.

With regard to property, Aristotle begins by considering what things it
is necessary for. These he finds to be six, three private and three
public. The former are food (including clothing and shelter),
instruments of production, and arms; the latter are public enterprises
(civil and military), religion, and law. These are the "necessaries"
(ἀναγκαία) of a State, for which it must duly provide. The most
important of all is religion, on which he everywhere lays great stress.
As to the distribution of property, he propounds a scheme which is half
socialistic. All the land is to belong to the State, that is, to the
body of the free citizens. It is to be divided into two equal portions,
and one set apart for public, the other for private, uses. The revenue
from the public part is to go for the support of religion (and law?) and
of the public tables, from which no citizen is excluded by poverty. The
private part is to be so divided that each citizen shall have one lot
near the city, and one near the frontier. This will give him an interest
in defending the whole territory. Both parts are to be cultivated by
serfs or slaves, part of whom will necessarily belong to the State, and
part to private individuals. Land-owning is to be a condition of
citizenship, and all citizens are to be forbidden to exercise any form
of productive industry. This last rule, it is hoped, will prevent
grievous inequalities of wealth, and the evils that flow from them. A
modest competency, derived from his estate, is all that any citizen
should aim at. Only degraded people, incapable of virtue, will crave for
more.

Upon the distinction of classes some light has been already thrown. They
are two; the ruling and the ruled. Aristotle holds that this distinction
runs through the whole of nature and spirit, that it is fundamental in
being itself. It holds between God and the universe, form and matter,
soul and body, object and subject, husband and wife, parent and child,
master and slave, etc., etc. The ruling class again is sub-divided into
two parts, one that thinks and determines (legislators and judges), and
one that executes (officials, officers, soldiers); while the ruled is
sub-divided into husbandmen, mechanics, and seamen (sailors, fishermen,
etc.). All the members of the ruled class are serfs or public slaves,
working, not for themselves, but for their masters. Aristotle holds that
they ought to be barbarians of different races, and not Greeks.

The architecture of the city will in some degree correspond to this
social division. It will naturally fall into three divisions, military,
religious, and civil. First of all, a city must have walls. These should
have towers and bastions at proper distances, and be made as attractive
as possible. The temples of the gods and the offices of the chief
magistrates should, if possible, stand together on a fortified citadel,
conspicuously dominating the entire city. Adjoining this ought to be the
Freemen's Square, reserved entirely for the ruling class, and
unencumbered by business or wares of any sort. Here ought to stand the
gymnasium for the older citizens, who will thus be brought into contact
with the magistrates and inspired with "true reverence and freemen's
fear." The market-square must be placed so as to be convenient for the
reception of goods both from sea and land. This comprehends all the
civil architecture except the mess-halls, of which we shall better speak
in the next paragraph.

The mode of life of the ruling class will necessarily differ widely from
that of the ruled. About the latter Aristotle has nothing to say. He
hopes for little from that class beyond the possibility of being held in
contented subordination. As it has no political life, all that is left
to it is the life of the family. The ruling class, on the contrary,
live to a large extent in public, and on public funds. They exercise in
public gymnasia and eat at public tables. The chief magistrates have
their mess-hall in the citadel; the priests have theirs close to the
temples; the magistrates, who preside over business matters, streets,
and markets, have theirs near the market-square, while those who attend
to the defences of the city have tables in the towers. When not engaged
in public business, the citizens may meet in the Freemen's Square and
enjoy an open-air _conversazione_, with music, poetry, and philosophy,
in a word, διαγωγή, for which our language has no even approximate
equivalent (see p. 33). In proportion as they advance in years, the
citizens enjoy more and more διαγωγή, which, indeed, is regarded as the
end of life, here and hereafter.

The government is entirely in the hands of the free citizens, the
legislative and deliberative power being in those of the elders; the
executive power, civil and military, in those of the younger portion. It
is curious that, though Aristotle regards this as the best possible
arrangement under ordinary circumstances, he nevertheless believes that
the happiest condition for a State would be to be governed by some
divine or heroic man, far superior to all the others in wisdom and
goodness. He plainly considers Pisistratus to have been one such man,
and he perhaps hoped that Alexander might be another.

The relations of the pedagogical State to other States are, as far as
possible, to be peaceful. Just as all labor is for the sake of rest and
διαγωγή, so all war is for the sake of peace; and that State is to be
envied which can maintain an honorable independence without war. A
cultured State will eschew all attempts at conquest, and be as unwilling
to tyrannize over another State as to be tyrannized over by one. At the
same time, it will always be prepared for war, possessing an army of
well-trained, well-armed soldiers, and a well-manned, well-equipped
fleet.

Such are the chief features of Aristotle's ideal State, based, as he
believes, on man's political nature and the history of the past. Like
all social ideals, like heaven itself, as ordinarily conceived, it is a
static condition. Its institutions are fixed once for all, and every
effort is made to preserve them. It is curious to note in how many
points it coincides with Xenophon's ideal.

The purpose of the State is to educate its citizens, to make them
virtuous. Virtue is the very life-principle of the State, and it does
not depend, as other conditions do, upon nature or chance, but upon free
will. The ideal State, like every other, must educate with a view to its
own institutions, since only in this way can these be preserved. "And,
since the State, as a whole, has but one aim, it is evident that the
political education of all the citizens ought to be the same, and that
this is a matter for the State to attend to, and not one to be left to
individual caprice, as is now almost universally done, when every parent
attends to the education of his own children, and gives them whatever
schooling suits his own fancy." For the education of those members of
the State who are not citizens the State makes no provision. They learn
their practical duties by performing them, and are completely under the
control of the citizens. Aristotle makes the most vigorous efforts to
prove that slavery has its justification in nature, which has
established between Greek and barbarian the relation of master and slave
(see p. 12). As woman belongs to the family, and is only indirectly a
citizen of the State, her education is entrusted to the former
institution. The daughter is to be educated by the parents, and the wife
by the husband, exactly as recommended by Xenophon.

Having concluded that education ought to be a matter of State
legislation, and the same for all the citizens, he continues: "It
remains to inquire what shall be the nature of the education, and the
method of imparting it.... The present state of education leaves this
question in a perfect muddle, no one seeming to know whether we ought to
teach those subjects which enable people to make a living, or those
which foster worth, or, finally, accomplishments. All have had their
advocates. In regard to those studies which have worth for their aim,
there is no general agreement, owing to the fact that different people
have different views as to what kinds of worth are admirable, and
consequently differ in regard to the means to be employed for the
cultivation of them. One point, however, is perfectly clear, viz. that
those useful things which are necessary ought to be taught. But it is
equally clear that a distinction ought to be made between liberal and
illiberal studies, and that only those useful subjects ought to be
taught which do not turn those learning them into craftsmen. We ought
to look upon every employment, art, or study which contributes to render
the bodies, souls, or intellects of free men unfit for the uses and
practices of virtue, as a craft. For this reason it is that we call all
those arts which lower the condition of the body crafts, and extend the
term to the money-making trades, because they preoccupy and degrade the
intelligence. As to the liberal arts, to cultivate an acquaintance with
them up to a certain point is not illiberal; but any over-devotion to
them, with a view to attaining professional skill, is liable to the
objections mentioned. It also makes a great difference for what purpose
we do or learn a thing. If a man does a thing for his own, for his
friends', or for worth's sake, it is not illiberal, whereas if he does
it often for the sake of anybody else, he will be held to be doing
something mercenary or slavish."

The next and all-important question is, For what end shall the State
educate,--for business or for leisure? In answering this, Aristotle
breaks entirely away from the old Greek traditions, as well as from
Plato, and maintains that, while it must educate for both, yet education
for leisure is far more important than education for business, and cites
Nature as his authority. "Nature itself demands," he says, "not only
that we should pursue business properly, but that we should be able to
employ our leisure elegantly. If we must have both, we must; but leisure
is preferable to business, and our final inquiry must be, in what sort
of employment we shall spend our leisure. It is useless to say that we
are to spend it in play, and that play is the end and aim of our life.
If this is impossible, and the truth is that the proper place for play
is in the midst of business (it is the man who is toiling that requires
recreation, which is the aim of play, business being accompanied with
exertion and tension), then, in having recourse to play, we must select
the proper seasons for administering it, just as if it were a medicine.
Indeed, all such movement of the soul is relaxation, and becomes
recreation on account of the pleasure which it affords. Leisure, on the
contrary, is considered, in and by itself, to involve pleasure,
happiness, and a blessed life. These fall to the lot of those who have
leisure, not of those who are engaged in business. Those who engage in
business do so for some ulterior end not realized in it, whereas
happiness is itself an end and, according to universal belief, brings,
not pain but pleasure. Of course, as to the nature of this pleasure,
there is at present a variety of opinions, every one having his own
preferences due to his character and habits, and the highest type of man
preferring the highest type of pleasure and that which arises from the
noblest things. We need no further argument to show that we should
receive instruction and education in certain things with a view to
_otium cum dignitate_ (or cultured leisure), and that these should be
ends in themselves, in contradistinction to the instruction given for
business, which is necessary and has an ulterior aim."

Three principles Aristotle lays down as valid for all education: (1)
that the training of the body ought to take precedence in time over that
of the mind; (2) that pupils should be taught to do things before they
are taught the reasons and principles of them; (3) that learning is
never playing, or for the sake of playing.

The periods of education distinguished by Aristotle are: (1) Childhood,
extending from birth to the end of the seventh year, and spent in
healthy growing and, latterly, in preparation for discipline; (2)
Boyhood, from the beginning of the eighth year to the advent of puberty,
devoted to the lighter forms of discipline, bodily and mental; (3)
Youth, from the age of puberty to the end of the twenty-first year,
occupied with the severer forms of discipline; (4) Manhood, devoted to
State duties. All these are but preparations for the divine life of the
soul. We shall treat these in order, including the second and third
under one head.




CHAPTER V

EDUCATION DURING THE FIRST SEVEN YEARS

    Suffer no lewdness or indecent speech
    The apartment of tender youth to reach.--Juvenal.

    Le cœur d'un homme vierge est un vase profond--
    Lorsque la première eau qu'on y verse est impure,
    La mer y passerait sans laver la souillure;
    Car l'abîme est immense, et la tache est au fond.
    --Alfred de Musset.


The State must begin the education of children before their birth;
indeed, before the marriage of their parents. It must see that only
persons of robust constitutions marry. Athletes are not suited for
marriage, neither are weaklings. The best age for marriage is
thirty-seven for a man, and eighteen for a woman. During their pregnancy
women must take special care of their health, living on light food, and
taking short walks. The State should make a law that they visit the
temples of certain gods every day, and offer up a prayer of thanksgiving
for the honor conferred upon them. They must carefully avoid all forms
of emotional excitement. When defective children are born, they must be
exposed or destroyed. The State must determine what number of children
each married couple may have, and, if more than this number are
begotten, they must be destroyed either before or after birth. "As soon
as children are born, it ought to be remembered that their future
strength will depend greatly upon the nourishment supplied to them." A
milk diet is best, and wine must be avoided. "It is likewise of great
importance that children should make those motions that are appropriate
to their stage of development.... Whatever it is possible to inure
children to, they ought to be subjected to from the very outset, and
gradual progress to be made. Children, on account of their high natural
warmth, are the proper subjects for inurement to cold. These and other
points of the same nature are what ought to be attended to in the first
years of the child's life. In the following years, up to the age of
five, while children ought not to be subjected to any instruction or
severe discipline, for fear of impeding their growth, they ought to take
such exercises as shall guard their bodies from sluggishness. This may
be secured by other forms of activity as well as by play. Care must be
taken that their games shall be neither unrefined, laborious, nor
languid. As to the conversation and stories which children are to hear,
that is a matter for the attention of those officers called Guardians of
Public Instruction. It ought to be seen to that all such things tend to
pave the way for future avocations. Hence all games ought to be types of
future studies. As to the screaming and crying of children, they are
things that ought not to be prohibited, as they are in some places. They
contribute to the growth of the body, by acting as a sort of gymnastics.
Just as persons engaged in hard work increase their strength by holding
their breath, so children increase theirs by screaming. It is the
business of the Guardians of Public Instruction to provide for their
amusement generally, as well as to see that these bring them as little
as possible in contact with slaves. It is, of course, natural that at
this age they should learn improprieties of speech and manner from what
they hear and see. As to foul language, it ought, of course, like
everything else that is foul, to be prohibited in all society (for
frivolous impurity of talk easily leads to impurity of action), but
above all, in the society of the young, so that they may neither hear
nor utter any such thing. If any child be caught uttering or doing
anything that is forbidden, if he be freeborn and under the age when
children are allowed to come to the public table, he ought to be
disgraced and subjected to corporal punishment; if he be older, it will
be sufficient to punish him with disgrace, like a slave, for having
behaved like one. And if we thus prohibit all mention of improper
things, with stronger reason shall we prohibit all looking at improper
pictures and listening to improper narratives. It ought to be made the
business of the Guardians of Public Instruction to see that there does
not exist a statue or a picture representing any such thing anywhere in
the State, except in the temples of those gods to whom ordinary belief
ascribes a certain wantonness.... There ought to be a regulation
forbidding young persons to be present at lampoons or comedies before
they reach the age when they are allowed to come to the public table and
partake of wine, and when education has fortified them against all
possible danger from them.... We all have a preference for what we first
know; for this reason everything that savors of meanness or ignobility
ought to be made alien to children. From the completion of their fifth
year to that of their seventh, children ought to be present at the
giving of the various kinds of instruction which they will afterwards
have to acquire."

In this brief sketch of primary education we see that Aristotle does not
depart far from the notions of Plato. It contains even the revolting
features of his scheme. It assumes that the citizens--men, women, and,
after a certain age, children--eat at public tables, and that education
is entirely managed by the State,--the family, in this respect, being
merely its agent. Some of its features, including the Guardians of
Public Instruction (παιδονόμοι, child-herds) are plainly borrowed from
Sparta.




CHAPTER VI

THE YEARS FROM SEVEN TO TWENTY-ONE

    The natures that give evidence of being the noblest are just those
    that most require education.--Socrates.

    We found ourselves beneath a noble castle
        Encompassed seven times with lofty walls,
        Defended round by a fair rivulet.
    O'er this we passed as upon solid earth:
        Through seven gates I entered with these sages.
        We came upon a meadow of fresh green.--Dante.


For this period, which Aristotle divides into two (see p. 183) by the
advent of puberty, he, in the main, accepts the course of study
customary in his time. It consists, he says, of four
branches,--"Letters, Gymnastics, Music, and Drawing, the last not being
universal. Letters and Drawing are taught because they are useful in the
ordinary business of life and for a variety of purposes, and Gymnastics
because they foster manliness, whereas the purpose of Music is
doubtful."

Of LETTERS Aristotle has not much to say, beyond the fact that they are
necessary in the common affairs of life. He champions Homer against
Plato, and goes into a long discussion to show the value of the drama.
Instead of believing, with Plato, that children should see and hear
nothing that would excite their emotions, he maintains that it is only
by being properly excited and "purged" that these can be trained and
made subordinate to the reason. Among the passions that obstruct the
exercise of reason are fear and pity. Tragedy rouses these and then
drains them off in a pleasant and harmless way. Comedy does the same
thing for pleasure and laughter. In fact, he maintains that the special
function of the fine arts is to act as cathartics for the different
passions. Art is ideal experience. Aristotle has left us a work on
tragedy that holds the place of honor in the literature of that subject
even at the present day.

DRAWING Aristotle recommends as a branch of study which develops taste
and judgment in regard to the products of industrial art; but he says it
should not be studied merely for its use in enabling us to choose these,
or even works of fine art, correctly, but rather because it enables us
to appreciate beauty of form. He adds: "The perpetual demand for what is
merely useful is anything but a mark of breadth or liberality."

After thus briefly dismissing Letters and Drawing, Aristotle passes on
to Gymnastics and Music, and devotes considerable space to each.

Alongside GYMNASTICS, but distinguished from them, he names PHYSICAL
CULTURE (παιδοτριβική), saying that, while the former gives character to
the acts of the body, the latter gives character to the body itself. The
aim of gymnastic training should be neither athleticism nor ferocity,
such as the Lacedæmonians cultivate in their children in the hope of
making them courageous. The former is detrimental to the beauty and
growth of the body; the latter misses its aim (see p. 41). "Hence
nobility, and not ferocity, ought to play the principal part among our
aims in physical education. For neither a wolf nor any other wild beast
ever braved a noble danger. To do that takes a noble man; and those who
allow their children to go too deep into such wild exercises, and so
leave them uninstructed in the necessary branches, make them, in point
of fact, mere professionals, useful for the ends of the State only in a
single requisite, and, as we have shown, inferior to others even in
that.

"There is a general agreement, then, as to the utility of Gymnastics and
to the manner in which they ought to be conducted. Up to the age of
puberty, children ought to be subjected only to the lighter exercises,
and all forced dieting and violent exertions eschewed, so that no
obstacle may be put to the growth of the body. It is no slight evidence
of the fact that violent exercise impedes growth, that there are not
more than two or three examples on record of persons' having been
victorious at the Olympic games both as boys and men. The explanation of
this is, that the others were robbed of their strength in their boyhood
by the training they had to undergo." After the advent of puberty, for a
period of three years, the young men are apparently to have very little
gymnastics, and to devote themselves assiduously to letters, music, and
drawing. The period following this is to be devoted to severe exercise
and strict dieting, mental exertion being reduced to a minimum; "for the
two kinds of exertion naturally work against each other, bodily exertion
impeding the intellect, and intellectual exertion the body."

On MUSIC, as a branch of study, we have almost a disquisition from the
pen of Aristotle. The question that first occupies him is, What is the
use of music? Is it a recreation, an occupation for cultured leisure, or
a gymnastic for the soul? It is all three, he replies, and would deserve
study for the sake of any one of them. At the same time, its chief value
in education lies in its third use. Music imparts a mental habit; about
that there can be no doubt. For example, the songs of Olympus "render
the soul enthusiastic, and enthusiasm is an affection of the soul's
habit." Aristotle reasons in this way: Music is capable of affecting us
with all kinds of pleasures and pains. But moral worth at bottom
consists in finding pleasure in what is noble, and pain in what is
ignoble, that is, in a correct distribution of affection. But in good
music the strains that give pleasure are attached to the ideas that are
noble, and the strains that give pain to the ideas that are ignoble;
hence, by a natural association, the pleasures and pains which we find
in the music attach themselves to the ideas which it accompanies. "There
is nothing that we ought to learn and practice so assiduously as the art
of judging correctly and of taking delight in gentlemanly bearing and
noble deeds. And apart from the natural manifestations of the passions
themselves, there is nothing in which we can find anger, gentleness,
courage, self-control, and their opposites, as well as the other moods,
so well represented as in rhythms and songs. This we all know by
experience; for the moods of our souls change when we listen to such
strains. But the practice which we thus receive from rhythms and songs,
in rejoicing and suffering properly, brings us very near being affected
in the same way by the realities themselves." Here Aristotle draws a
distinction between music, which appeals to the ear, and the arts that
appeal to the other senses, or rather to sight; for no art appeals to
touch, taste, or smell. In the objects of art that appeal to the eye, we
have expressions of passions only in so far as they affect the body,
whereas in music we have their direct expression passing from soul to
soul. Yet persons are deeply moved by statuary and painting, so much so
that young people ought not to be allowed to see such works as those of
Pauson. How much more then must they be moved by music! "That they are
so is quite plain; for there is such an obvious difference of nature
between harmonies that the listeners are affected in entirely different
ways by them. By some they are thrown into a kind of mournful or grave
mood, _e.g._, by what is known as the mixed Lydian; by others a
sentimental turn is given to their thoughts, for example, by languid
harmonies; while there is another kind that especially produces balance
of feeling and collectedness. This effect is confined to the Doric
harmonies. The Phrygian harmonies rouse enthusiasm. These are correct
results arrived at by those thinkers who have devoted their attention to
this branch of education,--results based upon actual experience. What is
true of harmonies is true also of rhythms. Some of these have a steady,
others a mobile, character; of the latter, again, some have coarse,
others refined, movements. From all these considerations, it is obvious
that music is calculated to impart a certain character to the habit of
the soul, whence it follows that it ought to be brought to bear upon
children, and instruction given them in it. Musical instruction, indeed,
is admirably adapted to their stage of development; for young people,
just because they are young, are not fond of persisting in anything that
does not give them pleasure, and music is one of the pleasant things.
There seems even to be a certain kinship between harmonies and rhythms
[and the soul]; whence many philosophers hold that the soul is a
harmony, or that it has harmony."

Aristotle, having thus shown that music is a proper subject of
instruction, goes on to inquire "whether children ought, or ought not,
to be taught music, by being taught to sing and play themselves?" His
answer is well worth quoting at full length. "It is quite evident," he
says, "that music will have a very much greater effect in moulding
people, if they take part in the performance themselves. Indeed, it is
difficult, or even impossible, for those who do not learn to do things
themselves to be good judges of them when they are done. At the same
time, children must have some amusement, and we may look upon Archytas'
rattle, which they give to children to spend their energies upon, and to
prevent them from breaking things about the house, as a good invention.
It is useless to try to keep a young creature quiet, and, just as the
rattle is the proper thing for babies, so musical instruction is the
proper rattle for older children. It follows that children ought to be
taught music by being made to produce it themselves, and it is not
difficult to determine either what is suitable and unsuitable for
different ages, or to answer those people who pretend that the study of
music is something ungentlemanly. In the first place, since people must,
to some extent, learn things themselves, in order to form a correct
judgment about them, they ought to learn the practice of them while they
are young, so that, when they grow up, they may be able to dispense with
it, and yet, through their early studies, be able to judge of them
correctly and take the proper delight in them. To the objections which
some people raise, that music turns people into craftsmen, it is not
hard to find an answer, if we consider to what extent the practice of
music ought to be required of children who are being reared in the civic
virtues, what songs and rhythms they ought to learn, and what
instruments they ought to use--for this makes a difference. Herein lies
the solution of the difficulty. The fact is, there is nothing to prevent
certain kinds of music from accomplishing the end proposed.

"It is, of course, obvious that the acquisition of music ought not to be
allowed to interfere with future usefulness, to impart an ignoble habit
to the body, or render it unfit for civic duties,--either for the
immediate learning, or the subsequent exercise, of them. All the
beneficial results of musical education would be attained, if, instead
of going into a laborious practice, such as is required to prepare
people for public exhibitions, if instead of trying to perform those
marvellous feats and _tours de force_ which have lately become popular
at public exhibitions, and passed from them into education, the children
were to learn just enough to enable them to take delight in noble songs
and rhythms, instead of finding a mere undiscriminating pleasure in
anything that calls itself music, as some of the lower animals and the
bulk of slaves and children do. If so much be admitted, we need be in no
doubt respecting our choice of instruments." Aristotle specially
condemns the flute, and tells how it came into use, and how it was
afterwards discarded, as exerting an immoral influence. "In the same way
were condemned many of the older instruments, as the pectis, the
barbitus, and those which tended to produce sensual pleasure in the
hearers--also the septangle, the triangle, the sambuca, and all those
requiring scientific manipulation." ... "We would, then, condemn all
professional instruction in the nature and use of these instruments.
'Professional' we call all instruction that looks toward public
exhibitions. The person who receives this pursues his art, not with a
view to his own culture, but to afford a pleasure, and that a vulgar
one, to other people. For this reason we hold that such practice is not
proper for free men, but savors of meniality and handicraft. The aim,
indeed, for which they undertake this task is an ignoble one. For
audiences, being vulgar, are wont to change their music, and so react
upon the character of the professionals who cater to their tastes, and
this again has its influence upon their bodies, on account of the
motions which they are obliged to go through."

Since different kinds of music have different effects upon the habit of
the soul, Aristotle next inquires what kinds are suitable for education.
"We accept," he says, "the classification made by certain philosophers,
who divide songs into ethical, practical, and enthusiastic, assigning to
them the different harmonies respectively, and we affirm that music is
to be employed, not for one useful purpose alone, but for several;
_first_, for instruction; _second_, for purgation; and _third_, for
cultured leisure, for relaxation, and for recreation. It is obvious that
all harmonies ought to be employed, though not all in the same way. The
most ethical (_i.e._ those that most affect the _ethos_ or habit of the
soul) must be employed for instruction; the practical and enthusiastic
for entertainments by professional performers. For those emotions which
manifest themselves powerfully in some souls are potentially present in
all, with a difference in degree merely, _e.g._, pity, fear, and also
enthusiasm, a form of excitement by which certain persons are very
liable to be possessed. If we watch the effects of the sacred songs, we
shall see that those persons are restored to a normal condition under
the influence of those that solemnize the soul, just as if they had
undergone medical treatment and purgation. The same thing must happen to
all persons predisposed to pity, fear, or emotion generally, as well as
to others in so far as they allow themselves to come within the reach of
any of these; for them all there must exist some form or another of
purgation and relief accompanied with pleasure. In this way those
'purgative' songs afford a harmless pleasure, and it is for this reason
that there ought to be a legal enactment to the effect that performers
giving public concerts should employ such harmonies and such songs. The
fact is, since there are two kinds of public, the one free and
cultivated, the other rude and vulgar, composed of mechanics, laborers,
and the like, there must be entertainments and exhibitions to afford
pastime to the latter as well as the former. As the souls of these
people are, so to speak, perverted from the normal habit, so also among
the harmonies there are abnormities, and among songs there are the
strained and discolored; and each individual derives pleasure from that
which is germane to his nature. For this reason performers must be
allowed to produce this kind of music, for the benefit of this portion
of the public.

"For the purposes of instruction, as has been said, we must employ
ethical songs and the corresponding harmonies. Such a harmony is the
Doric, as has already been remarked. We must likewise admit any other
species of music that may have approved itself to such persons as have
devoted attention to philosophic discussion and musical education.... In
respect to the Doric harmony, it is universally admitted to be, of all
harmonies, the most sedate, expressive of the most manly character.
Moreover, since our principle is, that the mean between extremes is
desirable and ought to be pursued, and the Doric harmony holds this
relation to other harmonies, it follows that Doric songs should be
taught to young people in preference to any other. Two things, however,
must be kept in view, the practicable and the befitting. I mean that we
must discuss what is specially practicable for different people, as well
as what is befitting. This, indeed, will depend upon the different
periods of life. For example, it would not be easy for persons in the
decline of life to sing the intense harmonies; for them nature suggests
the languid kinds. For this reason those musicians are right who blame
Socrates for having condemned the languid harmonies, as subjects of
instruction, on the ground that they were intoxicating. (By this term he
did not mean inebriating, in the sense that wine is inebriating,--for
wine renders boisterous rather than anything else,--but languid.) The
truth is, with an eye to the future, to old age, instruction ought to be
given in harmonies and songs of this sort. Moreover, if there is any
harmony suitable for youth, as tending to refine as well as to instruct,
as is the case notably with the Lydian, it, of course, ought to be
adopted. It is clear, then, that there are three distinct things to be
considered in reference to education, avoidance of extremes,
practicability, and appropriateness."

So much for the four branches of study which, according to Aristotle,
ought to compose the curriculum of youth. We have noticed that, in his
extant works, he says little about Letters and Drawing. Just what
branches the former was supposed to include, he has nowhere told us
directly; but I think there can be little doubt that he gave a place to
Grammar, Rhetoric (including Poetics), Dialectic, Arithmetic, Geometry,
and Astronomy, which, along with Music, make up the Seven Liberal Arts,
the _Trivium_ and _Quadrivium_ of the Middle Ages. This curriculum
underwent considerable changes at different times, as we can see from
Philo, Teles, Sextus Empiricus, St. Augustine, and others; but in
Martianus Capella it returned to its original form, and in this
dominated education for a thousand years. We might perhaps draw out
Aristotle's programme of secondary education thus:--

         {            {Physical   {Dancing (see p. 82)  }Before
         {            { Training  {Deportment           } puberty.
         {            {
         {            {           {Running              }
         {            {           {Leaping              }Before
         {_Practical_ {           {Javelin-casting      } puberty.
         {            {           {Discus-throwing      }
         {            {           {
         {            {Gymnastics {Wrestling            }
         {            {           {Shooting             }After
STUDIES: {                        {Marching             } puberty.
         {_Creative_  {Music      {Drilling             }
         {            {Drawing    {Riding               }
         {
         {            {Grammar    }
         {            {Rhetoric   }Before puberty.
         {_Theoretic_ {Dialectic  }
         {            {
         {            {Arithmetic }
         {            {Geometry   }After puberty.
         {            {Astronomy  }




CHAPTER VII

EDUCATION AFTER TWENTY-ONE

    Be assured that happiness has its source, not in extensive
    possessions, but in a right disposition of the soul. Even in the
    case of the body, no one would call it fortunate for being arrayed
    in splendid garments; but one would do so, if it had health, and
    were nobly developed, even without such appendages. In the same
    manner, we ought to ascribe happiness to the soul only when it is
    cultivated, and to call a man happy only if he possesses such a
    soul, not if he is splendidly attired outwardly, but has no worth of
    his own.... For those whose souls are ill-conditioned, neither
    wealth, nor power, nor beauty is a blessing; on the contrary, the
    more excessive these conditions are, the more widely and deeply do
    they injure their possessors, being unaccompanied with
    right-mindedness.--Aristotle.

    Zeno used to tell a story about Crates, to this effect: One day
    Crates was sitting in a shoemaker's shop, reading aloud Aristotle's
    _Exhortation_ (to Philosophy), addressed to Themison, king of the
    Cyprians, in which the king is reminded that he possesses, in an
    exceptional degree, all the conditions of philosophy, superabundant
    wealth, and high position. As he was reading, the shoemaker, without
    interrupting his sewing, listened to him, until at last Crates said:
    "Philiscus, I think I will write an _Exhortation_ for you; for I see
    you have more of the conditions of philosophy than Aristotle has
    enumerated."--Teles.


At the age of twenty-one, those young men who have successfully
completed the State system of training become citizens or politicians,
and begin to exercise the functions of such. These are of two kinds, (1)
active, practical, or executive, and (2) deliberative, theoretical, or
legislative. As action must, on the one hand, be vigorous, and, on the
other, guided by deliberation, which requires large experience, the
functions of the State must be so arranged that the active duties fall
to the young and robust, the deliberative to the elderly and mature. The
distinguishing virtue of the former is fortitude, with endurance or
patience; that of the latter philosophy. Both equally have self-control
and justice. In this way does Aristotle distribute Plato's four cardinal
virtues.

When young men first become citizens, they are assigned to posts of
active service, civil and military, and thus study practical
philosophy--Ethics and Politics--in a practical way. As they grow older,
they gradually rise to posts demanding less practice and more thought,
until at last they are admitted to the deliberative body, or council,
when their active duties cease, and they are able to devote themselves
to Speculative Philosophy or Theoretics. These men have now reached the
end of life, as far as this world is concerned. They spend their days in
cultured leisure, and the contemplation of divine things (θεωρία). The
very oldest of them, those who are most conversant with divine things,
are chosen as priests, so that they may, as it were, live with the gods,
and these be worthily served. Thus gradually, almost insensibly, they
pass from the world of time to that of eternity; from the imperfect
activity of practice, whose end is beyond itself, to the perfect energy
of contemplation, which is self-sufficient and the life of God. In this
way Aristotle settles the vexed question with regard to the
compatibility and relative value of the practical and the contemplative
life. They are necessary complements of each other. Practice is the
realization of what contemplation discovers in the pure energy of God,
revealing itself in the world. Thus the practical life of man glides
gradually into the contemplative life of God.

Such is the highest view of man's destiny, and the way thither, that the
Greeks ever reached, and it is in many ways a most attractive and
inspiring one. Its defects are the defects of all that is Greek. They
are two: (1) its ideal is intellectual and æsthetic,--a coördinated,
harmonious whole, whereof the individual is but a part: not moral or
religious--a self-surrender of the individual to the supreme will;
consequently, (2) it does not provide for every human being, as such,
but only for a small, select number, the fruit of the whole. Its ethics
are institutional not personal, and, indeed, the Greek never arrived at
a distant conception of personality, that being possible only through
the moral consciousness, which is its core. It seeks to find happiness
in a correlation and balancing of individual selves, not in the
independent conformity of each self to a supreme self. Hence it was
that, with all its marvellous grasp and manly prudence, the ideal of
Aristotle proved powerless to restore the moral unity of man, until it
was absorbed in a higher.




BOOK IV

THE HELLENISTIC PERIOD

(B.C. 338-A.D. 313)




CHAPTER I

FROM ETHNIC TO COSMOPOLITAN LIFE

    'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more.--Byron.

    Most glorious of all the Undying, many-named, girt round with awe!
    Jove, author of Nature, applying to all things the rudder of law--
    Hail! Hail! for it justly rejoices the races whose life is a span
    To lift unto Thee their voices--the Author and Framer of Man.
    For we are Thy sons; Thou didst give us the symbols of speech at our
      birth,
    Alone of the things that live, and mortal move upon earth.
    Wherefore Thou shalt find me extolling and ever singing Thy praise;
    Since Thee the great Universe, rolling on its path round the world,
      obeys:--
    Obeys Thee, wherever Thou guidest, and gladly is bound in Thy bands,
    So great is the power Thou confidest, with strong, invincible hands,
    To Thy mighty, ministering servant, the bolt of the thunder, that
      flies,
    Two-edged, like a sword and fervent, that is living and never dies.
    All nature, in fear and dismay, doth quake in the path of its stroke,
    What time Thou preparest the way for the one Word Thy lips have spoke,
    Which blends with lights smaller and greater, which pervadeth and
      thrilleth all things,
    So great is Thy power and Thy nature--in the Universe Highest of Kings!
    On earth, of all deeds that are done, O God! there is none without
      Thee.
    In the holy æther not one, nor one on the face of the sea;
    Save the deeds that evil men, driven by their own blind folly, have
      planned;
    But things that have grown uneven are made even again by Thy hand;
    And things unseemly grow seemly, the unfriendly are friendly to Thee;
    For so good and evil supremely Thou hast blended in one by decree.
    For all Thy decree is one ever--a Word that endureth for aye,
    Which mortals, rebellious, endeavor to flee from and shun to obey--
    Ill-fated, that, worn with proneness for the lordship of goodly things,
    Neither hear nor behold, in its Oneness, the law that divinity brings;
    Which men with reason obeying, might attain unto glorious life,
    No longer aimlessly straying in the paths of ignoble strife.
    There are men with a zeal unblest, that are wearied with following of
      fame,
    And men, with a baser quest, that are turned to lucre and shame.
    There are men, too, that pamper and pleasure the flesh with delicate
      stings:
    All these desire beyond measure to be other than all these things.
    Great Jove, all-giver, dark-clouded, great Lord of the thunderbolt's
      breath!
    Deliver the men that are shrouded in ignorance, dismal as death.
    O Father! dispel from their souls the darkness, and grant them the
      light
    Of Reason, Thy stay, when the whole wide world Thou rulest with might,
    That we, being honored, may honor Thy name with the music of hymns,
    Extolling the deeds of the Donor, unceasing, as rightly beseems
    Mankind; for no worthier trust is awarded to God or to man
    Than forever to glory with justice in the law that endures and is
      One.--Cleanthes.


The distinguishing characteristics of Hellenic education were unity,
comprehensiveness, proportion, and aimfulness. It extended to the whole
human being, striving to bring the various elements of his nature into
complete harmony in view of an end. This end was the State, in which the
individual citizen was expected to find a field for all his activities.
We have seen how, while conservative Sparta clung to this ideal to the
last, and rigorously excluded those influences which tended to undermine
it, Athens, by freely admitting these, gradually broke down the fair
proportion between bodily and mental education, in an excessive devotion
to the latter, and so came to make a distinction between the man and the
citizen. The result was an epidemic of individualism which threatened
the existence of all that was Hellenic. Against this destructive power
the noblest men in the nation, an Æschylus, an Aristophanes, a Pericles,
a Socrates, a Xenophon, a Plato, an Aristotle, fought with all the might
of worth and intellect. Some of them sought once more to remerge the man
in the citizen by means of a despotism and the suppression of all
intellectual pursuits; others, seeing clearly the impossibility of this,
tried so to define the sphere of the individual that it should not
encroach upon that of the citizen, but stand in harmonious relation to
it. They did this by placing the sphere of the individual above that of
the State, and, inasmuch as the former was a purely intellectual sphere,
they found themselves driven to conclude, and to lay down, that the
contemplative life is the end and consummation of the practical, that
the citizen and the State exist only for the sake of the individual.
They were very far indeed from seeing all the implications of this
conclusion: these showed themselves only in the sequel; but the fact is,
that the principle of the separation between the man and the citizen,
and the assignment of the place of honor to the former, proved at once
the destroying angel of Hellenism and the animating spirit of the
civilization which took its place. If we look closely at the schemes of
Plato and Aristotle, we shall see that they try to render innocuous the
spirit of individualism by exhausting its activities in intellectual
relations to the divine, offering it heaven, if it will only consent to
relinquish to the political spirit its earthly claims. They practically
said: Man, in all his relations to his fellow-men here below, is a
citizen; only in relation to God is he an individual. The history of the
last two thousand years is but a commentary on this text. From the day
when the master-mind of the Greek world credited man's nature with a
divine element having a supreme activity of its own, European thought
and life have been agitated by three questions, and largely shaped by
the answers given to them: (1) What is the nature of the divine element
in man? (2) In what form or institution shall that element find
expression and realization? (3) How shall that institution relate itself
to the State? And they have not yet been definitely answered.

Principles that are to move the world are never the result of mere
abstract thought, but always of a crisis or epoch in human affairs. And
so it was in the present case. The separation between the man and the
citizen was accomplished in fact, before it was formulated in theory. On
the other hand, the theory received emphasis from the events which
accompanied and followed its promulgation. The battle of Chæronea, which
took place sixteen years before Aristotle's death, by putting an end
forever to the free civic life of Greece, removed the very conditions
under which the old ideal could realize itself, and forced men to seek
a sphere of activity, and to form associations, outside of the State.
The State, indeed, still maintained a semblance of life, and the old
education, with its literature, gymnastics, and music still continued;
but the spirit of both was gone. The State was gradually replaced by the
philosophic schools, while intellectual training tended more and more to
concentrate itself upon rhetoric, that art which enables the individual
to shine before his fellows, and to gain wealth or public preferment.
From this time on, the spiritual life of Greece found expression in the
pretentious, empty individualism of the rhetorician, the lineal
descendant of the sophists, and in the philosophical sects, which
embodied the spirit of Socrates, their opponent.

The founder of the rhetorical schools may be said to have been
Isocrates, who, after being a pupil of Socrates', turned against the
philosophic tendency, and championed elegant philistinism. The aim of
these schools was to turn out clever men of the world, thoroughly
acquainted with popular opinions and motives, and capable of expressing
themselves glibly, sententiously, and persuasively on any and every
subject. They usually made no profession of imparting profound learning
or eliciting philosophic thought: indeed, they despised both; but they
did seek to impart such an amount of ordinary knowledge as to place
their pupils in the chief current of the popular thought of their time.
They thus became the bearers of practical education among a people who,
having lost their political life without finding any higher, sought to
obtain satisfaction in social intercourse. For hundreds of years they
exerted an enormous influence, and, indeed, at certain times and places
were formidable rivals of the philosophic schools.

The first man of Greek race who attempted to found a sect or school
outside the State was Pythagoras, and there can be no doubt that all
subsequent schools were in some degree modelled upon his. It is true
that the Pythagorean school had been broken up and dispersed long before
the days of Plato and Aristotle (see p. 54); nevertheless, his
followers, scattered over Greece, had carried with them the ideas and
principles of their master, and now that Athens had fallen into the
condition against which the Pythagorean discipline had been a protest,
these ideas found a ready response in the hearts of those men whom the
social life of the time could not satisfy. Hence the schools of Plato
and Aristotle, which had originally been mere educational institutions,
turned, even during the lifetime of the latter, into sects (αἱρέσεις,
heresies, as they were called later on), with definite sets of
non-political principles, in accordance with which their members tried
to shape their lives. It cannot be said that these two schools were in
any high degree successful, and the reasons were that they were too
purely intellectual, that they made no striking revolt against political
life, and that they called for a type of man not easy to find. But,
shortly after the death of Aristotle, there arose, almost
contemporaneously, two other schools, which exerted an influence, deep
and wide, for over six hundred years. These were the Epicurean and the
Stoic. Widely as these differed in respect to means, they sought the
same end, namely, personal independence, and they sought it by
conformity to laws imposed by no human legislator, but by nature. The
former took the law of the senses, the latter the law of the spirit, for
its guide; and, by a strange contradiction, while the former championed
free will, the latter professed fatalism. These four schools were the
only ones that ever met with extensive patronage in Athens, and with the
exception of the Academic, they never diverged far from the principles
of their founders. In the time of Marcus Aurelius, after Athens had been
for ages a mere Roman university, they were placed under State
patronage, and supported by public funds, and there is no record to show
that this was discontinued until they were finally closed by the Emperor
Justinian in A.D. 529.

Not long after the death of Aristotle, Athens was supplanted by
Alexandria, as the centre of Greek influence. Here the rhetorical and
philosophic schools established themselves, and could soon boast a
numerous discipleship. This, however, was no longer exclusively, or even
mainly, Greek, but was recruited from all the nations of the known
world, more especially those of the East. Phœnicians, Syrians, Jews,
Persians, etc., not to speak of Egyptians, now became students of Greek
philosophy, and members of philosophic sects, whose members not only
studied together, but often, to a large extent, lived together in
communities. About the year B.C. 300 were founded the famous Museum and
Library of Alexandria--the first university and the first public library
in the world. Round these the various sects gathered, to study, to
discuss, and to exchange opinions. Nor was it Greek thought alone that
engaged their attention. The opinions and beliefs of Egypt and the East
came in for a share, and, in the end, for the largest share. Nor is this
wonderful, when we consider the direction that thought and life were
then taking.

We have already seen that, as Greek civic life lost the conditions of
its existence, the thoughtful portion of the people came more and more
to seek for life-principles in the supersensible world of intellect. The
nature of this world Plato and Aristotle had done their best to reveal.
But the event proved that neither an ordered host of ideas commanded by
the Good, nor a Supreme Intelligence served by a host of lower
intelligences, could yield the principles which the life of the time
demanded; and thus we find the philosophers of Alexandria striving to
people their intelligible world with forms drawn from all the religions
of the East, including Judaism. Thus there grew up the various forms of
Alexandrine philosophy, compounds of Greek thought and Oriental
religion. On the basis of these again were organized, at the same time,
various forms of social life, all tending more or less to religious
communism. Hence came the Essenes (see p. 59), the Therapeuts, the
Neopythagoreans, and the Neoplatonists, all of whom, notwithstanding
certain shortcomings, did much to purify life, and to pave the way for a
higher civilization.

In B.C. 146, Greece, and, in B.C. 30, Egypt, fell into the hands of the
Romans and thenceforth formed provinces of their empire. Athens and
Alexandria were now Roman university-towns, while Rome became more and
more the diffusing centre of Greek and Oriental influence. It would be
impossible, in a work like the present, to give even a sketch of the
forms which education assumed in these three great centres, or in the
world that revolved round them, in the six hundred and more years that
passed between the loss of Greek autonomy and the triumph of
Christianity. We shall merely endeavor to give a general notion of its
two chief tendencies, which, as we saw, were towards rhetoric and
philosophy; and we shall do this in connection with the names of two
men, who may be regarded as respectively typical of the two tendencies,
Quintilian the rhetorician, and Plotinus the philosopher. By doing so we
shall pave the way for the consideration of the Rise of the Christian
Schools.




CHAPTER II

QUINTILIAN AND RHETORICAL EDUCATION

    Rhetoric is the counterpart of Dialectic. Both have for their
    subjects those things which, in a certain way, are matters of common
    knowledge, and belong to no definite science. Hence everybody, in
    some degree, is gifted with them; for everybody, to some extent,
    tries to examine and sustain an argument, to defend himself, and to
    accuse others.--Aristotle.

    There is a certain political theory which is made up of many great
    things. A large and important part of it is artificial eloquence,
    which they call rhetoric.--Cicero.

    Every duty which tends to preserve human relations and human society
    must be assigned a higher place than any that stops short with
    knowledge and science.--_Id._

    Zeno, having pressed his fingers together and closed his fist, said
    that was like Dialectic; having spread them out and opened his hand,
    he said Eloquence was like his palm there.--_Id._

    To act considerately is of more moment than to think wisely.--_Id._

    I pass to the pleasure of oratorical eloquence, the delight of which
    one enjoys not at any one moment, but almost every day and every
    hour.--Tacitus.

    Grammar is an experimental knowledge of the usages of language as
    generally current among poets and prose writers. It is divided into
    six parts, (1) trained reading with due regard to prosody [_i.e._
    aspiration, accentuation, quantity, emphasis, metre, etc.], (2)
    exposition according to poetic figures [literary criticism], (3)
    ready statement of dialectical peculiarities and allusions
    [philology, geography, history, mythology], (4) discovery of
    etymologies, (5) accurate account of analogies [accidence and
    syntax], (6) criticism of poetical productions, which is the noblest
    part of the grammatic art [ethics, politics, strategy,
    etc.].--Dionysius Thrax.

    Reading is the rendering of poetic or prose productions without
    stumbling or hesitancy. It must be done with due regard to
    expression, prosody, and pauses. From the expression we learn the
    merit of the piece, from the prosody the art of the reader, and from
    the pauses the meaning intended to be conveyed. In this way we read
    tragedy heroically, comedy conversationally, elegiacs thrillingly,
    epics sustainedly, lyrics musically, and dirges softly and
    plaintively. Any reading done without due observance of these rules
    degrades the merits of the poets and makes the habits of readers
    ridiculous.--_Id._

    Some arts are common, others liberal.... The liberal arts, which
    some call the logical arts, are astronomy, geometry, music,
    philosophy, medicine, grammar, rhetoric.--_Scholia to Dionysius
    Thrax._

    It is obvious that man excels the other animals in worth and speech:
    Why may we not hold that his worth consists as much in eloquence as
    in reason?--Quintilian.

    The civil man, and he who is truly wise, who does not devote himself
    to idle disputes, but to the administration of the commonwealth
    (from which those folks who are called philosophers have farthest
    withdrawn themselves), will be glad to employ every available
    oratorical means to reach his ends, having previously settled in his
    own mind what ends are honorable.--_Id._

    If we count over all the epochs of life, we shall find its pains far
    more numerous than its pleasures.... The first, that of babyhood, is
    trying. The baby is hungry; the nurse sends it to sleep: it is
    thirsty; she washes it: it wants to go to sleep; she takes a rattle
    and makes a noise. When the child has escaped from the nurse, it is
    taken hold of by the pedagogue, the physical trainer, the
    grammar-master, the music-master, the drawing-master. In process of
    time, there are added the arithmetic-master, the geometer, the
    horse-breaker; he rises early; he has no chance for leisure. He
    becomes a cadet; again he has to fear the drill-master, the physical
    trainer, the fencing-master, the gymnasiarch. By all these he is
    whipt, watched, throttled. He graduates from the cadets at twenty;
    again he dreads and watches captain and general, etc.--Teles the
    Stoic (B.C. 260).

    The palmy period in the history of Rome is the period when she had
    no literature. It was only when the Roman nationality began to
    break up, and cosmopolitan Greek tendencies to lay hold upon the
    people, that a literature began to appear. For this reason, Roman
    literature from its very inception is, from absolute necessity,
    filled with the Greek spirit, and stands in the most direct
    opposition to the national spirit of the people.--Mommsen.

    Quintiliane, vagæ moderator summe juventæ,
    Gloria Romanæ, Quintiliane, togæ.--Martial.


Up to the time when Rome began to decline, the school education of her
youth was meagre in the extreme, consisting of reading, writing, and a
little law. All later education that was more than this was borrowed
from the Greeks. It was about the year 200 B.C., at the close of the
Second Punic War, that their influence began clearly to show itself. The
severe Cato, who so cordially despised rhetoricians and philosophers,
learnt Greek in his old age and wrote, for the use of his son, a series
of manuals on ethics, rhetoric, medicine, military science, farming, and
law. At the same time Scipio Africanus spent his leisure hours in
practising gymnastics. From this time on, and just in proportion as Rome
lost her national character and became cosmopolitan, she more and more
adopted Greek manners, Greek religion (or irreligion), and Greek
education. When, finally, in B.C. 146, Greece became a Roman dependency,
it was strictly true that "Captive Greece took captive her rude
conqueror." Thousands of Greek schoolmasters, rhetoricians,
philosophers, etc., flocked to Rome, and, though attempts were made to
expel or suppress them, they held their place, for the simple reason
that the education they offered was a necessity of the time. Rome, the
mistress of the world, had either to become cosmopolitan or perish, and
she preferred the former alternative. She now, for the first time, began
to have a literature and to cultivate her own language. The studies
which she specially affected were (1) grammar, that is, literature, (2)
rhetoric, (3) philosophy, which corresponded to school, college, and
university education. The last, like music and geometry, was, for the
most part, an elegant accomplishment, rather than a serious study. The
physical sciences found little favor.

So long as Roman education was in the hands of Greeks, it was conducted
in the Greek language, and the authors read and discussed were Greek.
But the Romans, though willing enough to borrow Greek culture, were
unwilling to remain permanently in intellectual dependence upon a
conquered people, which in many respects they despised. Strong efforts,
therefore, were made to develop a national literature and a national
education. About the year B.C. 100, Lucius Ælius Præconinus Stilo, a
worthy and conservative Roman knight, opened a private class in Latin
grammar and rhetoric for young men of the upper classes, and from this
time on the direct influence of the Greeks, except in philosophy,
declined. Greek, indeed, continued to be spoken by all persons making
any pretensions to culture; but Latin became the language of Roman
literature. Among the pupils of Stilo were Varro and Cicero, who, along
with Julius Cæsar, may be called the parents of the classical Latin
language, literature, and eloquence. Both Varro and Cæsar wrote works on
grammar. A certain Cornificius (generally known as _Auctor ad
Herennium_) about this time wrote the first Latin treatise on Rhetoric;
but the great authority on the subject, in practice as well as theory,
was Cicero, who wrote no fewer than seven works on it. With Cicero's
death, and the transformation of the republic into an empire, eloquence
lost its noblest use, the defence of liberty. Rhetoric, nevertheless,
continued to be cultivated as a fine art and for forensic use, and,
indeed, was made to cover the whole of the higher education of youth. Of
this art the most celebrated teacher was Quintilian, "the supreme
director of giddy youth, the glory of the Roman toga" (_i.e._ civil
manhood).

Quintilian was born about A.D. 35 in the Spanish city of Calagurris
(Calahorra), where, later, St. Dominic first saw the light. He was
educated in Rome, but afterwards returned to his native place and
established himself as a teacher of rhetoric. About A.D. 68, he was
invited by the Emperor Galba to settle in Rome, which he did, giving
instruction in rhetoric with unparalleled success for twenty years, and
drawing a salary from the government. At the end of that time, he
retired, rich and honored, into private life. It was after this that he
wrote the work which carried his fame down to posterity, his _Institutio
Oratorica_, or Education of the Orator. In the first book of this he
draws out a scheme of preparatory education for the family and the
school; the succeeding ten are devoted to rhetoric, and the last to the
character of the orator, whom he regards as identical with the
cultivated gentleman. It is only the first book that concerns the modern
student of education, and of this I shall now give a brief summary.

The first care of the parent, after the birth of a child, should be to
procure for it a nurse of good moral character and of cultivated speech.
A child that early learns bad habits in acting and speaking, rarely, if
ever, gets cured of them afterwards. Great care ought to be taken with
regard to the child's youthful companions, and to his pedagogue, who
ought to be of good character and well-informed. Its first language
ought to be Greek; but Latin ought to be begun early, and both to be
carefully cultivated. There is no need to follow the ordinary custom of
not allowing the child to learn to read or write before the close of its
seventh year. Much can very profitably be done by play long before that.
It is a mistake to teach children to repeat the alphabet before they
know the forms of the letters. These they may learn from tablets or
blocks. As soon as the letters are recognized, they ought to be written.
Following with a pen the forms of letters engraved on ivory tablets is a
good thing. After letters, syllables must be learnt--all the possible
syllables in both languages. After syllables come words, and after
words, sentences. In all this process, it is of the utmost importance to
secure thoroughness by avoiding haste. The child must not attempt words
till he can read and write all the syllables, nor sentences till he is
perfectly familiar with words. In reading sentences, he must learn to
run ahead, so that, while he is pronouncing one word with his lips, he
is recognizing others with his eye. The writing lesson should be
utilized in order to make the child acquainted with rare words and good
poetry. At this stage, his memory ought to be well exercised, and made
to lay up large stores of good literature for future use. At the same
time, his organs of speech should be well trained, by being made to
pronounce rapidly verses containing difficult combinations of sound.[5]

As soon as he is able, the child should go to school. Home education is
objectionable on many accounts, especially for boys intended for
orators. These, above all others, must learn sociability, tact, and
_esprit de corps_, and form school-friendships. Many moral lessons can
be learnt, and many motives employed, in the school, that are not
possible in the family. Among the latter is ambition, which "though
itself a vice, is the parent of many virtues," and therefore ought to be
freely used. Hardly any motive is so powerful.

When a boy is sent to school, his teacher's first business is to
investigate his character and capacity. The chief marks of ability are
memory and power of imitation. Imitation is not mimicry, which is always
a sign of low nature. Slowness, though objectionable, is better than
precocity, which should be discouraged in every way. Different treatment
is required for different boys: some need the bit, some the spur. The
best boy is the one "whom praise excites, whom glory pleases, who cries
when he is beaten. Such a one may be nourished with emulation; reproach
will sting him; honor will rouse him." Boys ought to have seasons of
rest and play, neither too short to afford recreation, nor too long to
encourage idleness. Games of question and answer are good for
sharpening the wits. In play an excellent opportunity is offered to the
teacher for learning the character of his pupils. Corporal punishment is
altogether to be deprecated, and, indeed, is unneeded when the teacher
does his duty.

What boys learn in school is grammar; but this must be supplemented by
music and astronomy. Without the former it will be impossible to scan
verse; without the latter, to understand certain allusions and modes of
fixing dates in the poets. A little philosophy is necessary for the sake
of understanding such poets as Empedocles and Lucretius; geometry, in
order to give practice in apodictic reasoning, as well as for practical
uses. Thus the curriculum of school education will consist of Grammar,
Music, Astronomy, Philosophy, and Geometry.

Grammar consists of two parts, (1) _Methodics_, or the art of correct
speaking, (2) _Historics_ (German _Realien_), the interpretation of
poets, historians, philosophers, etc. _Methodics_--grammar in the modern
sense--should aim at enabling a boy to speak and write with correctness,
clearness, and elegance. All barbarisms (_i.e._ foreign words and
idioms), solecisms, affectations, and careless pronunciations are to be
avoided. In the use of language, four things are to be taken into
account, (1) reason, (2) antiquity, (3) authority, (4) custom. In
reading, the boy must be taught "where to draw his breath, where to
divide a verse, where the sense is complete, where it begins, where the
voice is to be raised, where lowered, what inflections to use, what is
to be uttered slowly, what rapidly, what forcibly, what gently." "That
he may be able to do all this, he must _understand_. Reading must above
all be manly and grave, with a certain sweetness." Poetry must not be
read either as prose, nor yet in a sing-song way. All theatrical
personification, and all gesticulation smacking of the comedian, are to
be avoided.

For _Histories_ the teacher must be very careful in his selection of
texts. Homer and Virgil are best to begin with. Though their full import
cannot be understood by youth, they awake enthusiasm for what is noble
and spirited, and will often be read in later life. "Tragedies are
useful. There is nourishment in the lyric poets"; but they must be used
with caution and in selections, from which everything relating to love
must be excluded. Even Horace must be expurgated. Satire and comedy,
though of the utmost value for the orator, must be deferred till the
moral character is sufficiently established not to be injured by them.
Passages from the poets ought to be committed to memory. In all reading,
the utmost care ought to be taken to promote purity and manliness
(_sanctitas et virilitas_).

After reading a piece of poetry, boys must be made to analyze and scan
it, to point out peculiarities of language and rhythm, to enumerate the
different meanings of words, to name and explain the various figures of
speech. But far more important than all this it is, that the teacher
should impress on their minds the importance of systematic arrangement
and propriety of description, "showing what is suitable for each rôle,
what is commendable in thought, what in expression, where diffuseness
is proper, and where brevity." In giving collateral information, whether
in history, mythology, or geography, he should keep within bounds,
giving only what is necessary and rests on respectable authority. "It is
one of the virtues of a schoolmaster to be ignorant of some things."

As regards lessons in composition, the teacher should begin by making
his pupils write out from memory the _Fables_ of Æsop, in pure, simple,
direct, and unadorned language. He should then call upon them to turn
poetry into prose, and to paraphrase it, either briefly or diffusely. He
should then make them write out proverbs, apophthegms, aphorisms, short,
brilliant anecdotes, etc. Famous stories related by the poets may be
used as subjects for composition, but chiefly for the sake of
information. Beyond this the schoolmaster should not go in the matter of
composition. The rest should be left to the rhetorician.

It is of great importance in youthful education that several subjects
should be studied at the same time. Boys like and need variety, and,
when they get it, it is truly astonishing how much they can accomplish.
"There is not the slightest reason for fearing that boys will shrink
from the labor of study. No age is less easily fatigued." ... "Boys are
naturally more inclined to hard work than young men."

Such, in brief, is Quintilian's school-programme. It has no place for
physical science (except Astronomy), for manual training, or for
physical exercise. Play is, indeed, permitted as a necessary recreation,
and gymnastics and physical training (παιδοτρίβεια) are recommended in
so far as they are necessary to enable the budding orator to move and
to gesticulate gracefully; but that is all. "Nothing can please that is
not becoming."

As soon as he is ready, the young aspirant for oratorical fame passes
into the hands of the rhetorician, under whom he learns all the arts,
and acquires all that knowledge, necessary to fit him for his
profession. No kind of knowledge, and no moral excellence ought to be
foreign to the orator. Quintilian is very severe upon the philosophers
for claiming, in their title, to be, in an exceptional way, lovers of
wisdom, and maintains that the true orator is the truly wise and good
man. He is surely superior to the philosopher, who turns his back upon
the world and manifests no interest in human affairs. Moreover,
"philosophy may be simulated; eloquence cannot."

The closing chapter of the last book of Quintilian's work treats of the
orator after his retirement from public life. He is to devote himself to
writing and to the study of art, science, and philosophy. The picture is
charming; but it ends with death, and there is nothing beyond. God may
be defined for oratorical purposes; but his existence is a matter of
conjecture.

In Quintilian we have the highest type of the civic man living under a
cosmopolitan despotism. His defects--his pedantry, his servility, his
externality, his worldliness--are only such as are natural to a good man
placed in this position, without any outlook upon a higher existence.




CHAPTER III

PLOTINUS AND PHILOSOPHIC EDUCATION

    The material body, which is subject to motion, change, dissolution,
    and division, requires an immaterial principle to hold and bind it
    together in unity. This principle of unity is the soul. If it were
    material, it would require another principle of unity, and so on _ad
    infinitum_, till an immaterial first were reached, which would then
    be the true soul.--Ammonius Saccas.

    Intelligible things, when they are united with other things, are not
    changed, as corporeal things are when they are united with each
    other, but remain as they are, and what they are. Soul and body are
    intimately united, but not mixed. The soul can separate and withdraw
    itself from the body, not only in sleep, but also in thought. As the
    sun illuminates and yet remains itself a separate light, so is the
    soul in its relation to the body. It is not in the body as in place;
    rather the body is in it and of it.--_Id._

    One's duty is to become first man, then God.--Hierocles.

    Neither Schelling nor Baader nor Hegel has refuted Plotinus: in many
    ways he soars above them.--Arthur Richter.

    What is loved by us here is mortal and hurtful. Our love is love for
    an image, that often turns into its opposite, because what we loved
    was not truly worthy of love, nor the good which we sought. God
    alone is the true object of our love.--Plotinus.


The practical and the contemplative lives, which Plato and Aristotle had
labored so hard to combine and correlate, in order to save human worth
and Greek civilization, fell asunder, despite all their
efforts--greatly, of course, to the detriment of both. In the terrible
picture which Quintilian draws of Roman life in the first century of
our era, we see one side of the result of this divorce: in the cruel
satires of Lucian, written less than a century later, we may find
depicted the other. But, just as, in the midst of the moral corruption
and brutality, there arose from time to time worthy men like Quintilian
and Tacitus, so amid the philosophical charlatanry and pretence, there
still survived a few earnest thinkers, who aspired with all the power
that was in them to divine truth, and strove to find in the eternal
world that reality which was so miserably wanting in this. By far the
greater number of these men were neither Greeks nor Romans, but
Orientals, men whose thinking combined Greek philosophy with some
earnest form of Eastern mysticism. To such men this life was merely an
opportunity of preparing for a higher, in which lay all beauty, all
good, and all blessedness. It is not difficult to see what sort of
education would follow from this view of life. It may best be
characterized by the one word "ascetic." It no longer seeks to train
harmoniously all the faculties of body and mind with a view to a worthy
social life, but to enable the soul to die to the body and to social
life, and so rise to union and consubstantiality with God. In no sect
was this tendency more marked than in the Neoplatonic, or, as it might
equally well be called, the Neoaristotelian or Neopythagorean, the
greatest name in which is Plotinus.

Plotinus was born in Egypt about A.D. 205. His nationality is unknown.
He received his education in Alexandria--grammar, rhetoric, and
philosophy,--and adopted the teaching of the last as a profession. He
sought in vain, however, for a system that could satisfy him, till he
met with Ammonius "the Sack-bearer," whom he at once recognized as his
master. This Ammonius had been reared as a Christian, but had
apostatized on becoming acquainted with philosophy. His Christian
education, however, had not been altogether lost on him; for he had
carried over into philosophy a religious spirit, and not a few of the
esoteric ideas then current in certain Christian sects. It was this,
apparently, that enabled him to give a new direction to philosophy, and
to found a new school, whose influence upon subsequent, even Christian,
thought, it would be difficult to overestimate. His school was the
Neoplatonic, which, more than any other, united profound thought with
mystic theosophy (θεωρία).

Plotinus listened to Ammonius for eleven years, and, on the death of the
latter, paid a visit to Persia, with the view of studying the religion
of that country. He shortly returned, however, and, after a brief
sojourn at Antioch, betook himself, in his fortieth year (A.D. 244), to
Rome, where he spent the remainder of his life as a teacher of
philosophy. His saintly character and his deep, religious thought drew
round him a considerable number of earnest men and women, including even
members of the imperial family. He made some attempt to found in
Campania a Platonopolis, so that his principles might be realized in a
social life, in a theosophic community; but this was never carried out.
He died in A.D. 270. Plotinus was the only truly great, original ancient
thinker after Aristotle.

While Plato and Aristotle had sought to rise to the intelligible world
from, and by means of, the sensible, Plotinus, believing that he has
attained a direct, intuitional knowledge of the former, sets out from it
and thence tries to reach the other. At the summit of being he finds the
supreme Platonic principle, the One or the Good, absolutely transcendent
and self-sufficient; next below this, the supreme Aristotelian
principle, Intelligence or Absolute Knowing, the _locus_ of all ideas;
and third, the supreme principle of the Stoics, Soul, Life, or Zeus, the
animating principle of the world. Good, Intelligence, Life--these are
Plotinus' divine trinity, evolved by a process of abstraction from the
_Nous_ of Aristotle (see p. 161). The members of this trinity are
neither personal, conscious, nor equal. Each lower is caused by, but
does not emanate from, the next above it; and this causation is due, not
to any act of free will, but to an inner necessity. Thus the trinity of
Plotinus is a mere energy, acting according to necessary laws. The third
member of it turns toward matter, which is mere poverty and hunger for
being, and, in so doing, produces a world of gods, dæmons, and mundane
beings, the highest of which last is man. All that has matter has
multiplicity.

It is easy enough to see what kind of ethics and education will spring
from such a system as this. Inasmuch as the good means self-sufficiency,
freedom from multiplicity and matter, evil means dependence,
multiplicity, materiality. Whatever evil there is in man is due to his
connection with matter, for which he is in no sense responsible. His
sole business, if he desires blessedness, is to free himself from
matter and multiplicity, and return to the unity of the Supreme Good.
The steps by which this may be accomplished are, (1) Music or Art, (2)
Love, (3) Philosophy or Dialectic: through all these he rises above
multiplicity into unity. In all this there is, obviously, neither moral
evil nor moral good, and, indeed, the world of Plotinus contains no
moral element, for the simple reason that it contains nothing personal,
either in God or man. Evil is the product of necessity, and
consciousness, implying as it does, multiplicity, is part of it. The
unethical character of Plotinus' teaching comes out very clearly in his
reversal of the positions of instruction and purgation in the scheme of
education. According to the old view, purgation was a mere medical
process, preparatory to ethical training (see p. 7). According to the
Neoplatonic view, ethical training and the "political virtues" are a
mere preparation for purgation and the intellectual virtues. And this is
perfectly logical; for evil, being physical, must be cured by physical
means. And the means which Plotinus recommends are magical, rather than
moral; rites and prayers, rather than heroic deeds; the suppression of
the will, rather than its exercise.

Plotinus is too much of a Greek to accept, or even see, all the
consequences of his own theory, which makes moral life consist in an
attempt to escape from the world and to quench consciousness and
personality. Accordingly, though he has a poor opinion of civic life (a
thing excusable enough in those days), he believes that the civic
virtues ought to be cultivated, as a means toward the higher, and has
apparently nothing to say against the ordinary grammatical, rhetorical,
and musical education of his time. He has a good deal to say in favor of
Mathematics, as a preparation for what to him is the supreme branch of
education, Dialectics. But the tendency of his teaching is only too
obvious, and the conclusions which he did not draw, time and succeeding
generations drew for him. The effect of Neoplatonism was, in the long
run, to make the super-civic part of man the whole man, to discredit
political life and political effort, and to pave the way for the mystic,
the ascetic, and the hermit. Nor were the tendencies of the other
philosophical schools in any marked degree different. Thus philosophy,
instead of contributing to harmonize man and society, and to restore
moral life, came to be one of the strongest agencies in bringing about
confusion and dissolution, by ignoring moral life altogether, embracing
superstition, and turning man into a mere plaything of blind necessity
and magical forces. And thus ancient civilization fell to pieces,
because man himself had fallen to pieces, and each piece tried to set
itself up for the whole. The civic fragment finds its highest expression
in Quintilian, the super-civic in Plotinus. Ere the fragments can be
united into a truly moral being, a member of a truly moral society, a
new combining force, unknown to either rhetorician or philosopher, must
arise.




CHAPTER IV

CONCLUSION

    Truly it was an old world, and even Cæsar's patriotic genius was not
    enough to make it young again. The dawn does not return till the
    night has fully set in.--Mommsen.

    My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,
    saith the Lord.--Isaiah.

    Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all
    thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the great and first
    commandment. And a second like unto it is this, Thou shalt love thy
    neighbor as thyself.--Jesus.

    Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and to God the things
    that are God's.--_Id._

    Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings? and not one of them is
    forgotten in the sight of God. But the very hairs of your head are
    all numbered.--_Id._

    We love because he first loved us. If a man say, I love God, and
    hateth his brother, he is a liar.--John.

    By one intelligible form, which is the divine Essence, and one
    conscious intention, which is the divine Word, things may be known
    in their multiplicity by God.--Thomas Aquinas.

    If God acts in all things, and such action in no way derogates from
    his dignity, but even belongs to his universal and supreme power, he
    cannot consider it below him, nor does it stain his dignity, if he
    extend his providence to the individual things of this world.--_Id._

    Une immense espérance a passé sur la terre.--Alfred de Musset.


We have seen that the Greek ideal of life rested upon the complete
identification of the man with the citizen. We have seen also how this
ideal was paralyzed by the growth of individualism; how the wisest men
thought to render this innocuous and even beneficent, by providing for
it a sphere of contemplation, superior to that of practice, but
organically related to it, and, finally how, with the failure of this
attempt, the two sides of human nature, divorced from each other,
degenerated, the one into selfish worldliness, the other into equally
selfish other-worldliness, both conditions equally destitute of moral
significance.

This sad result was mainly due to three causes, (1) that the remedies
proposed for individualism were not sufficient, (2) that the best remedy
was set aside, (3) that the conditions for which the remedies were
offered soon ceased to exist. Both Plato and Aristotle wrote for the
small Greek polities, which lost their autonomy through the Macedonian
conquest. If it may be doubted whether even the proposals of the latter
would have redeemed these polities, had they continued free, it is
certain that they would have been ineffective under the changed
circumstances. At all events, they were never adopted, and even for the
super-civic man the teaching of Plato was preferred to his.

As the new cosmopolitanism deepened the gulf between the citizen and the
individual, and immeasurably widened the sphere of the latter, in the
same proportion did the teaching of Plato fail to bridge over that gulf,
and provide activity for that sphere. To tell the super-civic man now
that his function was to contemplate divine things and oracularly
deliver laws for the guidance of the world, would have argued an absence
of humor not common in those days. Besides, those persons who claimed
to have contemplated divine things showed no such fitness for
legislation as to induce practical men to accept their guidance. The
sober fact was, that the contemplation of divine things, which more and
more absorbed the energy of Greek thought, was, except for Aristotle, a
mere vague asperation without moral value, and became ever more a sort
of mystic ecstasy, in which the individual, instead of acquiring insight
and power to live worthily and beneficently in the world, was thrown
back upon himself, with his will paralyzed. Nor could this be otherwise,
seeing the nature of the divine things, the contemplation of which was
reckoned so important. Instead of being personal attributes, or a person
imposing a moral law seen to be binding, they were mere abstractions,
increasing in emptiness the higher they were in the series, the highest
being absolute vacancy. In vain had Aristotle protested that all reality
is individual: the Platonic theory, that all knowledge is of ideas or
universals, prevailed, with the result that the highest knowledge was
held to be knowledge of that which is absolutely universal, viz.
indeterminate being or, as Plotinus held, something lacking even the
determination of being--the Supreme Good. That the super-civic man
should find satisfaction in gazing into vacancy, or be any more valuable
in the world after he had done so, no matter how spotless his life and
ecstatic his look, is inconceivable.

But while, in the Greek world, the sphere of activity of the super-civic
man was vanishing into nothingness, among a small and obscure band of
restored exiles of Semitic race, that sphere had come to claim the
entire man and all his relations, practical and spiritual. Isaiah's
little band of faithful followers (see p. 133) had grown into a nation,
living by no law save that of Jehovah, a very real, very awful, and very
holy personality, whom the heaven of heavens could not contain, but who
yet watched the rising up and the sitting down of every son of man. Long
before Quintilian wrote his elegant treatise on rhetoric, or Plotinus
his pantheistic Enneads, there had sprung from the bosom of this people
a man who, bursting, at the expense of his life, the narrow bounds of
his nationally, elevated the theocracy of his people into a Kingdom of
Heaven, which he had bade proclaim to all the world. It was proclaimed,
and then (though to some it seemed a stumbling-block, and to others
foolishness) the super-civic man, who for hundreds of years had been
wandering in darkness, in search of his fatherland, suddenly became
aware that he had found it in the Church of Christ. He now no longer
tries to escape from the visible world into the emptiness of an abstract
first principle; but, in the service of a First Principle who is the
most concrete of realities, and who numbers the very hairs of his head,
he goes down into the most loathsome depths of the material world to
elevate and redeem the meanest of the sons of men. There is no question
of bond or free, ruler or ruled, now. In the Kingdom of Heaven there are
no such relations. The only greatness recognized there is greatness in
service; the only law, the Law of Love. Love! yes, the whole secret is
in that one word. By adding love to the conception of the God of his
people, by exemplifying it in his own life, and demanding it of his
followers, Jesus accomplished what had baffled all the wisdom of the
Greek sages. He restored the moral unity of man, abolished the old
world, and made a new heaven and a new earth. In vain have the advocates
of an indeterminate, self-evolving first principle, whether calling
themselves Neoplatonists, mystics, materialists, evolutionists,
Hegelians, or Theosophists, striven to bring back the old world with its
class distinctions and institutional ethics; in vain have they sought to
sink the individual God and man of reality in the universal ideas of
thought. The Law of Love, which is the ground of individuality, as well
as of true society, has bidden, and will bid them, defiance.




APPENDIX




APPENDIX

THE SEVEN LIBERAL ARTS


The Greeks originally recognized two branches of liberal education[6]
(1) Gymnastics, for the body, and (2) Music, for the soul. Out of music
grew, in process of time, not only the so-called Liberal Arts, that is,
the arts that go to constitute the education of every freeman, but also
what was regarded as a superfluous luxury (περιττή), Philosophy. It is
the purpose of this appendix to trace, as far as possible, this gradual
development.

In doing so, one must bear in mind that originally the term "Music"
covered, not only what we call music, but also poetry, and that poetry
was the vehicle of all the science that then was. The Homeric _aoidos_
knows the "works of gods and men." Strictly speaking, therefore, it was
out of music and poetry that all the arts and sciences grew. The first
step in this direction was taken when Letters were introduced, that is,
about the first Olympiad.[7] But it was long before Letters were
regarded as a separate branch of education; they were simply a means of
recording poetry. Even as late as the time of Plato, Letters are still
usually included under Music. In Aristotle, they are recognized as a
separate branch. It follows from this that, when we find Greek writers
confining soul-education to Music, or Music and Letters, we must not
conclude that these signify only playing and singing, reading and
writing. Socrates was saying nothing new or paradoxical, when he
affirmed that Philosophy was the "highest music." The Pythagoreans had
said the same thing before him, and there can be no doubt that
Pythagoras himself included under Music (1) Letters, (2) Arithmetic, (3)
Geometry, (4) Astronomy, (5) Music, in our sense, and (6) Philosophy (a
term invented by him). Plato did the same thing. He speaks of "the true
Muse that is accompanied with truth (λόγων) and philosophy." But in his
time "Music" was used in two senses, a broad one, in which it included
the whole of intellectual education, and a narrow one, in which it is
confined to music in the modern sense. It is in this latter sense that
it is used by Aristotle, when he makes the intellectual branches of
school education (1) Letters, (2) Music, and (3) Drawing. Philosophy he
places in a higher grade. Having distinguished Letters from Music, it is
natural enough that he should assign to the former the branches which
Pythagoras had included under the latter. His literary scheme appears to
be (1) Grammar, (2) Rhetoric, (3) Dialectic, (4) Arithmetic, (5)
Geometry, (6) Astronomy. Add Music, and we have exactly the Seven
Liberal Arts; but, as Drawing must also be added, it is clear that there
was, as yet, no thought of fixing definitely the number seven. That
Drawing was for a long time part of the school curriculum, is rendered
clear by a passage in a work of Teles (B.C. 260) quoted by Stobæus
(xcviii, 72), in which it is said that boys study (1) Letters, (2)
Music, (3) Drawing; young men, (4) Arithmetic, and (5) Geometry. The
last two branches are here already distinguished from Letters; but we
cannot be sure that the list is intended to be exhaustive. What is
especially noticeable in the list of Teles is, that it draws a clear
distinction between the lower and higher studies, a distinction which
foreshadows the _Trivium_ and _Quadrivium_ of later times.[8]

Philosophy, or the highest education, Aristotle divided into (1) Theory
and (2) Practice. Theory he subdivided into (a) Theology, First
Philosophy, or Wisdom, called later Metaphysics, the science of the
Unchangeable, and (b) Physics, the science of the Changeable; Practice
into (a) Ethics, including Politics and Œconomics, and (b) Poetics or
Æsthetics.

After Teles we hear little of the Greek school-curriculum until about
the Christian era. Meanwhile, the Romans, having acquired a smattering
of Greek learning, began to draw up a scheme of studies suitable for
themselves. It is noticeable that in this scheme there is no such
distinction as the Greeks drew between liberal (ἐλευθέριαι, ἐγκύκλιοι,
λογικαί) and illiberal (βάναυσοι) arts.[9] As early as the first half of
the second century B.C., Cato the Censor wrote a series of manuals for
his son on (1) Ethics, (2) Rhetoric, (3) Medicine, (4) Military Science,
(5) Farming, (6) Law. It is very significant that the only Greek
school-study which appears here is Rhetoric; this the Romans, and
notably Cato himself, always studied with great care for practical
purposes. It seems that Cato, in order to resist the inroads of Greek
education and manners, which he felt to be demoralizing, tried to draw
up a characteristically Roman curriculum. Greece, however, in great
measure, prevailed, and half a century later we find Varro writing upon
most of the subjects in the Greek curriculum: Grammar, Rhetoric,
Dialectic, Arithmetic, Geometry, Astronomy, Music, Philosophy, besides
many others. He wrote a treatise in nine books, called _Disciplinarum
Libri_. Ritschl, in his _Quæstiones Varronianæ_,[10] tried to show that
these "Disciplinæ" were the Seven Liberal Arts, _plus_ Architecture and
Medicine, and Mommsen, in his _Roman History_, has followed him; but
Ritschl himself later changed his opinion. There seems no doubt that (1)
Grammar, (2) Rhetoric, (3) Dialectic, (4) Music, (5) Geometry, and (6)
Architecture were treated in the work: what the rest were we can only
guess.[11] There is no ground for the assertion that the Seven Liberal
Arts were obtained by dropping Architecture and Medicine from Varro's
list. It must have been about the time of Varro, if not earlier, that
Roman education came to be divided into three grades, called
respectively (1) Grammar, (2) Rhetoric, and (3) Philosophy, the last
falling to the lot of but few persons. Of course "Grammar" now came to
have a very extensive meaning, as we can see from the definition of it
given by Dionysius Thrax, in his grammar, prepared apparently for Roman
use (B.C. 90). In the Scholia to that work (I am unable to fix their
date), we find the Liberal Arts enumerated as (1) Astronomy, (2)
Geometry, (3) Music, (4) Philosophy, (5) Medicine, (6) Grammar, (7)
Rhetoric.[12]

But to return to the Greeks. In the works of Philo Judæus, a
contemporary of Jesus, we find the Encyclic Arts frequently referred to,
and distinguished from Philosophy. The former, he says, are represented
by the Egyptian slave Hagar, the latter by Sarah, the lawful wife. One
must associate with the Arts before he can find Philosophy fruitful. In
no one passage does Philo give a list of the Encyclic Arts. In one place
we find enumerated (1) Grammar, (2) Geometry, (3) Music, (4) Rhetoric
(_De Cherub._, § 30); in another (1) Grammar, (2) Geometry, (3) "the
entire music of encyclic instruction" (_De Agricult._, § 4); in another
(1) Grammar, (2) Music, (3) Geometry, (4) Rhetoric, (5) Dialectic (_De
Congressu Quær. Erud. Grat._, § 5); in another, (1) Grammar, (2)
Arithmetic, (3) Geometry, (4) Music, (5) Rhetoric (_De Somniis_, § 35),
etc.

It would seem that the Encyclic Arts, according to Philo, were (1)
Grammar, (2) Rhetoric, (3) Dialectic, (4) Arithmetic, (5) Geometry, (6)
Music. Astronomy appears in none of the lists. Philosophy is divided
into (1) Physics, (2) Logic, (3) Ethics (_De Mutat. Nom._, § 10), a
division that was long current.

From what has been adduced, I think we may fairly conclude that at the
Christian era no definite number had been fixed for the liberal arts
either at Athens, Alexandria, or Rome. The list apparently differed in
different places. Clearly the Roman programme was quite different from
the Greek. Shortly after this era, we find Seneca (who died A.D. 65)
giving the liberal arts, _liberalia studia_, as (1) Grammar, (2) Music,
(3) Geometry, (4) Arithmetic, (5) Astronomy (_Epist._, 88). He divides
Philosophy into (1) Moral, (2) Natural, (3) Rational, and the last he
subdivides into (a) Dialectic and (b) Rhetoric. Above all he places
Wisdom, "_Sapientia perfectum bonum est mentis humanæ_" (_Epist._, 89).
Here we see that two of the Seven Liberal Arts are classed under
Philosophy. A little later, Quintilian divides all education into (1)
Grammar, and (2) Rhetoric, but condescends to allow his young orator to
study a little Music, Geometry, and Astronomy.

Turning to the Greeks, we find Sextus Empiricus, who seems to have
flourished in Athens and Alexandria toward the end of the second
century, writing a great work against the dogmatists or
"mathematicians," of whom he finds nine classes, corresponding to six
arts, and three sciences of philosophy. The arts are (1) Grammar, (2)
Rhetoric, (3) Geometry, (4) Arithmetic, (5) Astronomy, (6) Music: the
sciences, (1) Logic, (2) Physics, (3) Ethics. We are now not far from
the Seven Liberal Arts; still we have not reached them.

There is not, I think, any noteworthy list of the liberal arts to be
found in any ancient author after Sextus, till we come to St. Augustine.
In his _Retractiones_, written about 425, he tells us (I, 6) that in his
youth he undertook to write _Disciplinarum Libri_ (the exact title of
Varro's work!), that he finished the book on (1) Grammar, wrote six
volumes on (2) Music, and made a beginning with _other five_
disciplines, (3) Dialectic, (4) Rhetoric, (5) Geometry, (6) Arithmetic,
(7) Philosophy. It has frequently been assumed that we have here, for
the first time, the Seven Liberal Arts definitely fixed; but there is
nothing whatever in the passage to justify this assumption. The author
does not say "_the_ other five disciplines," but merely "other five."
Among these five, moreover, is named Philosophy, which, though certainly
a "discipline," was never, so far as I can discover, called an art,
liberal or otherwise. There is not the smallest reason for tracing back
the Seven Liberal Arts to St. Augustine, who surely was incapable of any
such playing with numbers. He does not, indeed, recognize the "Seven."

It is in the fantastic and superficial work of Martianus Capella, a
heathen contemporary of Augustine's, that they first make their
appearance, and even there no stress is laid upon their number. They are
(1) Grammar, (2) Dialectic, (3) Rhetoric, (4) Geometry, (5) Arithmetic,
(6) Astronomy, (7) Music. These, no doubt, were the branches taught in
the better schools of the Roman Empire in the fourth and fifth
centuries, when, on the whole, the Greek liberal curriculum had
supplanted the Roman rhetorical one. There is not the slightest ground
for supposing that Capella had anything to do with fixing the curriculum
which he celebrates. His work is a wretched production, sufficiently
characterized by its title, _The Wedding of Mercury and Philology_. He
wrote about seven arts because he found seven to write about. Attention
was first called to the _number_ of the arts, and a mystical meaning
attached to it, by the Christian senator, Cassiodorus (480-575) in his
_De Artibus et Disciplinis Liberalium Litterarum_. He finds it written
in Prov. ix, 1, that "Wisdom hath builded her house. She hath hewn out
her seven pillars." He concludes that the Seven Liberal Arts are the
seven pillars of the house of Wisdom. They correspond also to the days
of the week, which are also seven. It is to be observed that he
distinguishes the "Arts" from the "Disciplines," or, as they said later,
the _Trivium_ from the _Quadrivium_. The pious notion of Cassiodorus was
worked out by Isidore of Seville (died 636) in his _Etymologiæ_, and by
Alcuin (died 804) in his _Grammatica_. Of course, as soon as the number
of the arts came to be regarded as fixed by Scripture authority, it
became as familiar a fact as the number of the planets or of the days of
the week, or indeed, as the number of the elements. About A.D. 820
Hrabanus Maurus (776-856), a pupil of Alcuin's, wrote a work, _De
Clericorum Institutione_, in which the phrase _Septem Liberales Artes_
is said to occur for the first time. About the same date Theodulfus
wrote his allegorical poem _De Septem Liberalibus in quadam Pictura
Descriptis_.[13]

The Liberal Studies after St. Augustine did not include Philosophy,
which rested upon the Seven Arts, as upon "seven pillars," and was
usually divided into (1) Physical, (2) Logical, (3) Ethical.[14] After a
time Philosophy came to be an all-embracing term. In a commentary on the
_Timæus_ of Plato, assigned by Cousin to the twelfth century, we find
the following scheme:--

                         { Ethics.
           { Practical   { Economics.
           {             { Politics.
           {
           {             { Theology.
PHILOSOPHY {             {              { Arithmetic }
           {             { Mathematics. { Music      }
           { Theoretical {              { Geometry   } = Quadrivium.
           {             {              { Astronomy  }
           {             { Physics.

The author expressly says that "Mathematica quadrivium continet"; but he
plainly does not include the _Trivium_ under Philosophy. This, however,
was done the following century. In the _Itinerarium Mentis in Deum_ of
St. Bonaventura (1221-74) we find the following arrangements:--

           {          { Metaphysics--essence: leads to First
           {          {    Principle = Father.
           { Natural  { Mathematics--numbers, figures: leads
           {          {    to Image = Son.
           {          { Physics--natures, powers, diffusions:
           {          {    leads to Gift of Holy Spirit.
           {
PHILOSOPHY {          { Grammar--power of expression = Father.
           { Rational { Logic--perspicuity in argument = Son.
           {          { Rhetoric--skill in persuading = Holy
           {          {    Spirit.
           {
           {          { Monastics--innascibility of Father.
           { Moral    { Œconomics--familiarity of Son.
           {          { Politics--liberality of Holy Spirit.

Here we have the _Trivium_, under the division "Rational," while the
_Quadrivium_ must still be included under "Mathematics." In both cases
we get nine sciences or disciplines, and the number was apparently
chosen, because it is the square of three, the number of the Holy
Trinity. In the latter case this was certainly true. Speaking of the
primary divisions of Philosophy, the Saint says: "The first treats of
the cause of being, and therefore leads to the Power of the Father; the
second of the ground of understanding, and therefore leads to the Wisdom
of the Word; the third of the order of living, and therefore leads to
the goodness of the Holy Spirit."

Dante, in his _Convivio_ (II, 14, 15), gives the following scheme, based
upon the "ten heavens," nine of which are moved by angels or
intelligences, while the last rests in God.

             {            { Grammar       Moon       Angels.
             { Trivium    { Dialectic     Mercury    Archangels.
             {            { Rhetoric      Venus      Thrones.
LIBERAL ARTS {
             {            { Arithmetic    Sun        Dominions.
             { Quadrivium { Music         Mars       Virtues.
             {            { Geometry      Jupiter    Principalities.
             {            { Astrology     Saturn     Powers.

             { Physics and   } Starry Heaven         Cherubim.
             {  Metaphysics  }
             {
             { Moral Science { Crystalline }         Seraphim.[15]
PHILOSOPHY   {               { Heaven      }
             {
             { Theology        Empyrean              God.

In Dante are summed up the ancient and mediæval systems of education.






BIBLIOGRAPHY


It is not intended here to give a complete Bibliography of Greek
Education, but merely to point the readers of this book, who may desire
to pursue the subject further, to the chief sources of information.


1. ANCIENT WORKS

For the first part of the Hellenic Period, that of the "Old Education,"
our authorities are fragmentary, and often vague. They are the _Iliad_
and _Odyssey_ of Homer, the _Works and Days_ of Hesiod, the fragments of
the pre-Socratic philosophers (collected by Mullach, in his _Fragmenta
Philosophorum Græcorum_, Paris, Didot, 1860-81, 3 vols. 4to), and the
comedies of Aristophanes, especially the _Clouds_. For the second part
of the same period, that of the "New Education," the chief authorities
are the tragedies of Euripides, the _Clouds_ of Aristophanes, the
dialogues of Plato, especially the _Protagoras_, _Lysis_, _Republic_,
and _Laws_, and the _Cyropædia_, _Œconomics_, and _Constitution of
Lacedæmon_ of Xenophon.

For Aristotle's educational doctrines, we are confined for information
to his own works, and, among these, to the _Ethics_ and _Politics_. Of
the latter, the closing chapters of the seventh, and the whole of the
eighth, book deal professedly with education. Some information may also
be gleaned from the recently discovered _Constitution of Athens_.

For the Hellenistic Period, our information is derived chiefly from
inscriptions, from the writings of Philo Judæus, Sextus Empiricus,
Plutarch (_On the Nurture of Children_), Ælian (_Miscellanies_), Lucian
(_Anacharsis_ chiefly), Stobæus, Plotinus, Varro, Cicero, Seneca,
Quintilian (_Education of the Orator_), Martianus Capella (_Nuptials of
Mercury and Philology_), and Cassiodorus, and from stray notices in
other poets, historians, and philosophers.

Of the works referred to, these deserve special mention:--

    1. Aristophanes, _Clouds_. Translations by John Hookham Frere,
    Thomas Mitchell, and W.J. Hickie (in Bohn's Library).

    2. Xenophon, _Cyropædia_. Translation, in _Whole Works translated by
    Ashley Cooper and Others_, Philadelphia, 1842, and by J.S. Watson
    and H. Dale (in Bohn's Library).

    3. Plato, _Republic_. Translations by J. Ll. Davies and D.J.
    Vaughan, by B. Jowett, and by Henry Davis (in Bohn's Library).

    4. Plato, _Laws_. Translations by B. Jowett, and by G. Burges (in
    Bohn's Library).

    5. Aristotle, _Politics_ (Books VII, VIII). Translations by B.
    Jowett, J.E.C. Weldon, and E. Walford (in Bohn's Library).

    6. Plutarch, _On the Nurture of Children_. Translation in _Morals_,
    translated from the Greek by several hands, corrected and revised by
    W.W. Goodwin, Boston, 1878.

    7. Quintilian, _Education of an Orator_. Translation by J.S. Watson
    (in Bohn's Library).


2. MODERN WORKS

These are very numerous; but the most comprehensive is Lorenz
Grasberger's _Erziehung und Unterricht im klassischen Alterthum, mit
besonderer Rücksicht auf die Bedürfnisse der Gegenwart_, Würzburg,
1864-81, 3 vols. The first volume deals with the physical training of
boys, the second with their intellectual training, and the third with
the education imparted by the State to young men (ἔφηβοι). A volume of
plates is promised. The work is badly constructed, but is a mine of
information and of references.

Along with this may be named O.H. Jäger, _Die Gymnastik der Hellenen, in
ihrem Einfluss auf's gesammte Alterthum und ihrer Bedeutung für die
deutsche Gegenwart_, Esslingen, 1850; Fournier, _Sur l'Education et
l'Instruction Publiques chez les Grecs_, Berlin, 1833; Becq de
Fouquière, _Les Jeux des Anciens_, Paris, 1869; De Pauw, _Recherches
Philosophiques sur les Grecs_; Fr. Jacobs, _Ueber die Erziehung der
Hellenen zur Sittlichkeit_, Vermischte Schr. Pt. III.; Albert Dumont,
_Essai sur l'Ephébie Attique_, Paris, 1876-6; Dittenberger, _De Ephebis
Atticis_; Chr. Petersen, _Das Gymnasium der Griechen nach seiner
baulichen Einrichtung beschrieben_, Hamburg, 1858; Alexander Kapp,
_Platon's Erziehungslehre_, Minden, 1833, and _Aristotle's
Staatspædagogik_, Hamm, 1837; J.H. Krause, _Geschichte der Erziehung des
Unterrichts und der Bildung bei den Griechen, Etruskern und Römern_,
Halle, 1851.

Chapters on Greek Education may be found in W.A. Becker's _Charicles_
and _Gallus_; in Guhl and Koner's _Life of the Greeks and Romans_--all
three translated into English. In _Hellenica_ is an essay, by R.S.
Nettleship, on the _Theory of Education in the Republic of Plato_,
Rivington, 1880, and in Edwin Hatch's _Influence of Greek Ideas upon the
Christian Church_ (Hibbert Lectures) is a chapter on Greek Education
(Lecture II).


FOOTNOTES:

[1] It is worth while to note that it was a passage from Philolaus that
suggested to Copernicus the revolution of the earth round a centre.

[2] This is represented in the charming Apoxyomenos of the Vatican.

[3] So says Aristotle, who tells us further that in his time on this
occasion they were presented with spear and shield _by the people_ (see
p. 97).

[4] I am here using the terms "objective" and "subjective" in their
modern acceptation, which almost exactly inverts the ancient usage. See
Martineau, _Study of Religion_, vol. i, p. 385, n. 2.

[5] Like "Peter Piper," etc., and the German "Messwechsel Wachsmaske."

[6] It must be borne in mind that the Greek τέχνη, art, corresponds
almost exactly to what we mean by "science." It is defined by Aristotle,
_Metaph._, A. 1; 981 a 5 sqq. Schwegler, in his translation of the
_Metaphysics_, renders it by _Wissenschaft_. Ἐπιστήμη is our
"philosophy."

[7] See Jebb, _Homer_, pp. 110 sqq.

[8] It is a pity that we cannot fix the date of the so-called _Picture_
of Cebes (Κέβητος Πίναξ). In this we find enumerated the votaries of
False Learning, (1) Poets, (2) Rhetoricians, (3) Dialecticians, (4)
Musicians, (5) Arithmeticians, (6) Geometricians, (7) Astrologers (if we
count Poets = Grammarians, we have exactly the Seven Liberal Arts), (8)
Hedonists, (9) Peripatetics, (10) Critics, "and such others as are like
to these." The "Hedonists" (ἡδονικοί) are the Cyrenaics; the "Critics"
(κριτικοί) can hardly be the grammarians, though that is usually the
meaning of the term in later times. Should we not read κυνικοί?

[9] "Liberal" means fit, "illiberal" unfit, for freemen. The sum of the
liberal arts was called Ἐγκυκλιοπαιδεία, which we have corrupted into
_Encyclopædia_.

[10] Bonn, 1845.

[11] See Boissier, _Étude sur la Vie et les Ouvrages de M.T. Varron_,
pp. 332, sqq.

[12] See Bekker's _Anecdota Græca_, ii., 655.

[13] I am indebted for a number of these facts to an article by
Professor A.F. West, in the _Princeton College Bulletin_, November,
1890.

[14] These terms, which we still find in Isidore and Hrabanus Maurus,
are afterwards, in the thirteenth century, replaced by their Latin
equivalents: Natural, Rational, and Moral. In the case of the second,
this caused considerable confusion, inasmuch as when it ceased to be
used as "rational," it took the place of "dialectic."

[15] In the XXVIIIth Canto of the Paradise, these angelic powers are
arranged somewhat differently, in deference to Dionysius Areopagita and
St. Bernard.



INDEX


A

Academics, 112, 210.

Academy, 86, 112.

Achilles, 6.

Æolian Education, 38 _sqq._

Æolians, 35.

Æschylus, 104 _sqq._

Æsop's _Fables_, 146, 223.

Ἀΐτας, 47.

Alexander the Great, 40, 156 _sq._, 178.

Alexandria, 211.

Ammonius Saccas, 225, 227.

Amphidromia, 65.

Amyntas, 156.

Anaxagoras, 24, 99 _sq._

Antisthenes, 112.

Apoxyomenos, the, 82 _n._

Archytas, 55, 193.

Aristocracy in Athens, 98.

Aristophanes, 105.

Aristotle, Life, 29, 153 _sqq._

  "        Death, 159.

  "        Philosophy, 161.

  "        Theology, 165.

  "        Theory of the State, 166 _sqq._

  "        Pedagogical State, 172 _sqq._

  "        Scheme of Secondary Education, 199.

Arithmetic, how Taught, 77.

Artemis Orthia, 50.

Arts, Origin of, in Greece, 20.

Athenian Education, 60.

Athenian Ideal of the State, 63.

Athletes, 78, 184.

Athletics, 190.


B

Barbarians _vs._ Greeks, 12.

Bodily Training, 77.

Branches of Greek Education, 6.


C

Cæsar, 217.

Cato Major, 216.

Chæronea, Battle of, 157.

Character of the Greeks (Zeller), 18.

Children, Defective, 185.

Children, Treatment of, 185.

Christianity, 233 _sqq._

Cicero, 217.

Citharist, his Functions, 77.

Citizen, Meaning of, 175.

Clisthenes, 98.

College Education, 85.

Commerce, Effect of, 21, 99 _sq._

Competition in Education, 71.

Conditions of Education, 9.

Contemplation, 201.

Copernicus, 39.

Cornificius (_Auctor ad Herennium_), 217.

Cretan Education, 42.

Culture-State, 90, 175.

Cynosarges (Gymnasium), 86, 112.

Cyrus, his Education, 115 _sqq._


D

Dancing, 82 _sqq._

Democracy in Athens, 92, 99.

Diagogē (διαγωγή), 33, 178.

Dionysiac Chorus, 85.

Dipœnis and Scyllis, 21.

Discus-throwing, 80.

Dorian Education, 41 _sqq._

Doric Harmonies, 197.

Draco, 98.

Drawing, 189.


E

Education, "Old," 27, 33, 61 _sqq._

  "        "New" 27, 93 _sqq._

  "        Higher, 108.


Εἰσπνήλας (Inspirer), 47.

Epaminondas, 40, 55.

Epheboi (Cadets), 49, 89, 90, 116, 118.

Epheboi, Oath of, 61, 89.

Epicureans, 210.

Epochs in Education, 26.

Essenism, 59, 212.

Ethnic and Cosmopolitan Life, 205.

Examinations, 64, 90.


F

Family Education in Athens, 64.

Freedom, Greek Tendency to, 19.

Freeman's Square, 116, 177.

Friendship, Aristotle on, 170.


G

Games, 66.

_Golden Words_, 57 _sqq._, 146.

Grading in Schools, 85.

Grammar, 214, 221.

Greeks a Mixed Race, 20.

Greeks _vs._ Barbarians, 12.

Guardians of Public Instruction, 185 _sqq._

Gymnasia at Athens, 86, 105.

Gymnastics, 7, 77, 189.


H

Harmony, 55, 56, 76.

  "      Doric, Lydian, etc. 192.

  "      in Music, Unknown to Greeks, 73.

Hellenic Period of Education, 26, 32 _sqq._

Hellenistic Period of Education, 27, 203 _sqq._

Helots, 44 _sq._

Hermæa, 79, 85.

Hermias, 155.

Hesiod, 22.

Hetæræ, 132.

Holidays, 85.

Homeric Education, 6, 17.

  "     Society and Kings, 16.

  "     Poems collected, 35.

Homeridæ, 21.


I

Ideal of Greek Education, 3, 206.

Individualism and Philosophy, 93 _sqq._, 207.

Induction, Method of, 162.

Ionian Education, 60 _sqq._

Isaiah, 53, 133, 234.

Ischomachus, 124 _sqq._

Isocrates, 209.


J

Javelin-casting, 81.

Jumping, 80.

Justinian, 211.


K

Kalokagathia, 8, 12, 15, 86.

Katharsis (purgation), 7, 76, 229.

Kindergarten, 66, 145.

Kingdom of Heaven, 234.

"Know Thyself," 108.


L

Larceny, Instruction in, 48.

Leaping, 80.

Learning, how viewed in Greece, 72.

Leisure, Education for, 33, 179.

Letters, 22, 188.

Letters, Introduction and Uses of, 21.

Liberal Arts, 180 _sqq._, 198.

Library of Alexandria, 211.

Life the Original School, 6.

Literary Education, 72.

Love, as a Power in Life, 234.

Lyceum, 105, 171.

Lycurgus, 42, 43.

Lysis, 39.


M

Macedonian Period in Education, 13.

Marriage, 10, 127.

Melleirenes, 49.

Milo, the Wrestler, 55.

Money-making Classes, 13.

Music, 22, 34, 72 _sqq._, 188, 191.

Music, Greek Feeling for, 76, 146.

Museum at Alexandria, 211.


N

Nymphæum at Stagira, 156.

Neoplatonism, 212, 227.


O

Œconomy, 13.

Olympic Games, 78.


P

Παιδονόμοι, 46, 185, 187.

Palæstra, 69 _sq._, 78 _sq._

Pantheism, 136.

Parmenides, 24.

Parthenon, 24, 106.

Pedagogical State, 172 _sqq._

Pedagogue, 68.

Peleus, 7.

Pentathlon, 88.

Pericles, 105 _sqq._

Perioikoi, 44.

Periods of Greek Education, 26 _sqq._

Persian Education, 115 _sqq._

Personality, 202.

Pherecydes, 53.

Phiditia, 44.

Philolaus, 39.

Philosophy, Rise of, 22.

Philosophy and Individualism, 93 _sqq._

Physical Culture, 189.

Physicians in Homer, 17.

Pindar, 39.

Pisistratus, 35, 98, 178.

Plato, 29, 112, 133 _sqq._, 134, 136, 137, 142.

Play, 66, 181 _sqq._

Plotinus, 29, 225 _sqq._, 228 _sqq._

Poetesses, 21.

Poetry, Value of, for Education, 73 _sqq._

"Professional," Meaning of, 195.

_Prometheia_, 24.

Proxenus of Atarneus, 155.

Purgation, 7, 76.

Pythagoras, 29, 52 _sqq._, 149.

Pythias, 156.


Q

Quadrivium, 144, 198.

Quintilian, 29, 214 _sqq._


R

Reading, 75.

Rhapsodes, 23.

Rhetorical Schools, 209, 217.

Roman Education, 216 _sqq._

Roman Period, 27.

Ruling and Ruled, 176.

Running, 79.


S

School Education in Athens, 67.

  "    Buildings "    "     69.

  "    Rooms     "    "     77.

Scipio Africanus, 216.

Singing, 75.

Slaves, 12.

Social Life in Greece, 18.

Socrates, 24, 107 _sqq._

Socratic Method, 109.

Solon, and his Laws, 68, 98.

Soothsayers in Homer, 17.

Sophists, 23, 100 _sq._

Spartan Education, 41, 43 _sqq._

Spartan Girls, 49.

  "     Government, 44.

  "     Ideal, 42.

  "     Mercilessness, 45, 50.

  "     Women, 44.

Stagira, 155 _sq._

State, Meaning of Term, 174.

State as a School, 91.

Stilo, Lucius Ælius Præconinus, 217.

Stoics, 210.

Supercivic Man, 136, 234.


T

Theban Education, 28.

Themistes, 17.

Theories of Education, 28.

Therapeuts, 212.

Thomas Aquinas, 165.

Thucydides' Daughter, 37.

Tragedy, 84.

Trivium, 144, 198.


U

University Education, 90.

  "        of Alexandria, 212.

  "        of Athens, 211.


W

_Wilhelm Meister_, 173.

Wingless Victory, 63.

Wisdom, the Ideal of Athens, 63.

Women, Education of, 49, 124.

Worth, 16, 48.

Worth, Aristotle's Pæan to, 4.

Wrestling, 81 _sqq._

Writing, 75.


X

Xenophon, 29, 113, 114 _sqq._

  "       _Memoirs of Socrates_, 123.

  "       _Œconomics_, 124.

  "       on Female Education, 124 _sqq._


Typography by J.S. Cushing & Co., Boston, U.S.A.

Presswork by Berwick & Smith, Boston, U.S.A.


       *       *       *       *       *


TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Corrections from the errata list on p. 2 have been incorporated into the
text.

Words in italics are indicated by underscores, _like this_.

The variant spellings "freeborn" and "free-born", "Staatspædagogik" and
"Staatspaedagogik", "subdivided" and "sub-divided" are used in this text.

The abbreviations B.C. and A.D. sometimes precede their date, sometimes
follow it.


Amendments to the text have been made as follows:

p. 21: "Spata" amended to "Sparta".

p. 63: "civilizaton" amended to "civilization".

p. 74: "partiotism" amended to "patriotism".

p. 78: "neans" amended to "means".

p. 78: "humane" amended to "human".

p. 85: "pantomine" amended to "pantomime".

p. 186: "sufficent" amended to "sufficient".

p. 188: quotation mark deleted after "not being universal."

p. 218: B.C. amended to A.D.

p. 227: "fourtieth" amended to "fortieth".

p. 243: "Grammer" amended to "Grammar".

p. 246: full stop added after "Mathematics".

p. 246: extra "the" deleted from "the following century".


Greek:

On p. 22 αἴτια has not been changed to αἰτία (as in LSJ) as it may be an
acceptable alternative form.

Similarly on p. 223 παιδοτρίβεια has not been changed to παιδοτριβία (as
in LSJ).