It* 
 
 ■^Jf- 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/aristotleancientOOdavirich 
 
Edited by NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER 
 
 /AKISTOTLE' 
 
 ANCIENT EDUCATIONAL IDEALS 
 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS DAVIDSON 
 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRTBI^ER'S SONS 
 
 1892 
 
 r 
 

 COPYRIGHT, 1892, BY 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 
 
 -ho 
 
 y^r 
 
PEEFACE 
 
 In undertaking to treat of Aristotle as the ex- 
 pounder 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 com- 
 mentary, what is to be found on the subject of educa- 
 tion in his various works — Politics, Ethics, EhetoriCj 
 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 rela- 
 tion 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 theo- 
 ries 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 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 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 prac- 
 tice, 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 essen- 
 tial part of the system. 
 
 It would have been easy for me to give my book a 
 learned appearance, by checkering its pages with refer- 
 ences 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 
 
PREFACE vii 
 
 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 be-i 
 lieve 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 Gras- 
 berger, 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 my- 
 self 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. 
 
CONTE]^TS 
 BOOK I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 Chakactek and Ideal of Greek Education ... 3 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Branches of Greek Education . c , . 6 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Conditions of Education 9 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Subjects of Education 12 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Education as Influenced by Time, Place, and Cir- ^ 
 
 CUMSTANCES 15 
 
 ix 
 
X CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 PAOB 
 
 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. 
 
 .^k>LIAN OR ThEBAN EDUCATION 38 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 Dorian or Spartan Education 41 ' 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Pythagoras 52 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Ionian or Athenian Education 60 
 
 (1) Family Education 64 
 
CONTENTS xi 
 
 PAGE 
 
 (2) School Education 67 
 
 (a) Musical (and Literary) Education . 72 
 
 (/3) Gymnastics, or Bodily Training . . 77 
 
 (7) 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 m. 
 Plato 133 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 ARISTOTLE (B.C. 384-322). 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 His Life and Works . . . . '. 153 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
xii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 His Philosophy 1^1 
 
 CHAPTER HL 
 His Theory of the State 166 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 His Pedagogical State 172 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Education dueing the first Seven Years . . . 184 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 Education from Seven to Twenty-one . . . 188 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Education after Twenty-one 200 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 THE HELLENISTIC PEBIOD (B.C. 338-A.D. 313). 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 From Ethnic to Cosmopolitan Life .... 205 
 
CONTENTS xiii 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 QUINTILIAN AND ElIETORICAL 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 
 
ARISTOTLE 
 
 TJKIVERSITY 
 
 him a life of which all the parts, internal and external, 
 stood to each other in just proportion. Such propor- 
 tion was threefold; Jirst, between the diffej-gjit .p^-rts 
 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 ii^di' 
 
 3 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Page 19, line 5 from below, insert 102. - 
 53, " - 6 « « « 133. ^ 
 
 181, « 14 « « for "and" read "or." - 
 
 250, "11 « «« « "Watsno" read "Watson. 
 
("DrNIVERSITT; 
 
 ARISTOTLE 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 CHARACTER AND IDEAL OF GREEK EDUCATION 
 
 Nothing in excess ! — Solon. 
 
 No citizen has a right to consider himself as belonging to him- 
 self ; 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 natu- 
 rally looks to care for the whole. — Aristotle. 
 
 Greek life, in all its manifestations, was dominated 
 by a single idea, and that an sesthetiaone. This idea, 
 which worked sometimes consciously, sometimes un- 
 consciously, was P roportio n. The Greek term for 
 this (Logos) not only came to designate the incarnate 
 Word of Eeligion, but has also supplied many modern 
 languages with a name for the Science of Manifested 
 Eeason — 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 propor-; 
 tion was threefold ; Jirst, between the different .pjarts , 
 of the individual human being ; second, between the 
 individual and his fellows in a social whole ; thirdy 
 between the human, as such, and the overruling divine, 
 The realization of this threefold harmony in the iijdi' 
 
 3 
 
4 ARISTOTLE 
 
 vidual was called by the Greeks Worth ('A/3€t>/, us- 
 ually, 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 paean addressed to this ideal. It may 
 be fitly inserted here, in a literal translation. 
 
 To Worth. 
 
 O Worth ! stem 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 Atameus' 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 univer- 
 sal 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 
 
CHARACTER OF GREEK EDUCATION 5 
 
 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 indi- 
 vidual liberty, and therefore obstructive of the highest 
 human development ; the second encouraged Utopian 
 dreams, which, being always of static conditions, un- 
 disturbed by the toils and throes essential to progress, 
 tend to produce impatience of that slow advance where- 
 by 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 
 
 BRAIs^CHES 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 ac- 
 quainted with mutual war or councils, in which men rise to distinc- 
 tion — for this end he sent me forth to teach thee all these things, 
 to be a speaker of words and a doer of deeds. — {Phoinix in) Homer. 
 
 Abeve 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 men- 
 tion 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 res- 
 olute 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 
 
 
BRANCHES OF GREEK EDUCATION 7 
 
 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 con- 
 sequently 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 dis- 
 ordered 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 musi^ and the kindred arts, 
 which the ancients believed to exert what we should 
 now call a daemonic 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 purga- 
 tive influence on the soul ^g-J^arded by the ancients 
 
 (XJNIVi::RSIT^) 
 
8 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 (KaXoKayaOuL) 
 that is, Fair-and-Goodness. Either half of this ideal 
 was named dperrj (ai-eti), Worth or Excellence. We 
 are expressly told by Aristotle (Categories, chap, 
 viii.) that the adjective to dperT^ is o-TrovSato? (spou- 
 daios), 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, earnest- 
 ness, genuineness, truthfulness, thoroughness, absence 
 of frivolity. 
 
CHAPTEK 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 im- 
 parting 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 
 
 C'^s— nature, reason, and habit. By "reason " I mean instruction, by 
 
 /j" habit," training. . . . Nature without instruction is blind; in- 
 
 / I struction without nature, helpless ; exercise (training) without both, 
 
 1^ aimless. — Plutarch. 
 
 r. 
 
 L 
 
 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 l>e^tg;^fts^;5^]fie gods. Aristotle 
 defines noble birth as y ancient^^ealth and worth,'^ 
 and this fairly enough expresses the Greek view 
 
 9 
 
10 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 every- 
 where 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 sentimen- 
 tality, 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 an- 
 cients 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 ac- 
 cepted maxim. The model'n habit of trying to teach 
 languages and virtues by rules, not preceded by exten- 
 sive 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 
 
CONDITIONS OF EDUCATION 11 
 
 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 expe- 
 rience and worth, and respect for law. 
 
 (3) The work begun by nature, and continued by 
 habit or exercise, was completed and crowned by in- 
 struction. This had, according to the Greek, two func- 
 tions, (a) to make action free, by making it rational, 
 (6) to make possible an advance to original action. 
 Nature and habit left men thralls, governed by in- 
 stincts 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. 
 
 '4/ 
 
 D 1 
 
<y 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SUBJECTS FOR EDUCATION 
 
 It is right that Greeks should rule over barbarians, but not bar- 
 barians 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 : Qreek educar^ 
 tion was intended only for the few, for the wealthy, 
 and well-born. Upon all others, upon slaves, barba- 
 rians, 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 citi- 
 12 
 
SUBJECTS FOR EDUCATION 13 
 
 zens, 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, oeconomic and political duties. The 
 free citizen not only acknowledged no other duties 
 besides these, but he looked down ux3on persons who 
 sought occupation in any other sphere. (Economy 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, legisla- 
 tive, 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 judi- 
 cious management, and by kindly, but firm, treatment 
 of his slaves. If he performed any great artistic ser- 
 vice 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 sub- 
 ject of education; the latter being a mere instrument 
 in its hands. The governing class required education 
 
14 ARISTOTLE 
 
 in order that it might govern itself and the other class, 
 in accordance with reason and justice; that other, re- 
 ceiving 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 activi- 
 ties ; 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 sub- 
 jection 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 necfessary 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 circum- 
 stances. 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 contem- 
 porary Spartans or Thebans. Moreover, the educa- 
 tion 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 
 (aptrrij KaXoKayaBia) ; but this was differently conceived 
 and differently striven after at different times and in' 
 different places. 
 
 Among the Homeric Greeks, as we have seen, edu- 
 cation, 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 
 
 16 
 
16 AEISTOTLE 
 
 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 sum- 
 mit 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 
 (^acrtX^es) 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 irre- 
 sponsible or arbitrary. On the contrary, it was com- 
 patible 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 
 freest discussion w^as allowed. When the kings exer- 
 cised judicial power, they did so in accordance with 
 
INFLUENCES ON EDUCATION 17 
 
 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 inhabi- 
 tants of the ancient cities, when not engaged in warfare, 
 devoted themselves chiefly to agriculture, cattle-rais- 
 ing, and the useful arts. In these even the kings 
 thought it no shame to engage. We find Paris help- 
 ing 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 prin- 
 cesses spinning and weaving, while Nausicaa, the 
 daughter of the Phaeacian 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 sur- 
 geons) 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 men- 
 tioned 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 arti- 
 sans, 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, 
 
18 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 soli- 
 darity 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 ^.ther. 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 com- 
 panionship 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 in- 
 tervened 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 in- 
 terwoven with each other, there can be no harm in 
 treating them separately. 
 
INFLUENCES ON EDUCATION 19 
 
 (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 pr 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 aesthetic faculties. It was 
 in the school of practical politics that the Greeks ac- 
 quired 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./^4)- 
 
 (2) Greece, lying, as it did, between three conti- 
 nents, 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, 
 
20 ARISTOTLE 
 
 to be coveted by tbem. From tbis followed two con- 
 sequences, (a) tbat tbe Greeks were a very mixed race, 
 (6) tbat tbey were, from tbe first and at all times, in 
 manifold contact witb foreign peoples. Tbat tbey 
 were a mixed race, is attested alike by tbeir language, 
 tbeir mytbology, and tbeir legends. Tbat tbey were 
 in close and continual communication witb foreign 
 peoples, is rendered evident by tbeir alpbabet, tbeir 
 art, and tbe direct statements of tbeir bistorians. 
 Altbougb it is true tbat tbe Greeks, especially after 
 tbe Persian Wars, regarded tbemselves as a superior 
 and cbosen people, calling all otbers " barbarians," and 
 considering tbem as fit only to be slaves, it is not tbe 
 less true tbat bardly one of all tbe arts and sciences 
 wbicb tbey ultimately carried to a bigb degree of per- 
 fection bad its origin in Greece proper. All appear 
 first in tbe colonies settled among "barbarians," — in 
 Egypt, Asia Minor, Tbrace, Crete, Sicily, or Italy. 
 Arcbitecture, sculpture, painting, poetry — epic, lyric, 
 dramatic — music, bistory, politics, pbilosopby, were 
 all borrowed, transformed, and, witb tbe exception 
 perbaps of tragedy and painting, carried to a bigb 
 degree of excellence in tbe colonies, before tbey were 
 transplanted to tbe motber-country. It is beyond any 
 doubt tbat even tbe Homeric legends are of "bar- 
 barian" origin, tbougb from wbat people tbey were 
 borrowed is uncertain. It was tbe plasticity and ver- 
 satility of tbeir cbaracter, due in part to tbeir mixed 
 blood, tbat, by enabling tbem to appropriate and as- 
 similate tbe arts and sciences of tbeir neigbbors, 
 raised tbe Greeks to a new plane of civilization and 
 made tbem tbe initiators of a new epocb in bistory, 
 
INFLUENCES ON EDUCATION 21 
 
 the epocli 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 Mycense, Spata, 
 and other places, as well as by statements in the Ho- 
 meric 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, Dipoenis and Scyllis, 
 were natives of Crete, settled in Sicyon; and the 
 earliest poetic guild of which we have any mention 
 is that of the Homeridae in the island of Chios. But, 
 besides introducing art and artists into Greece, com- 
 merce tended to educate the Greeks in other ways. It 
 made them acquainted with foreign manners and lux- 
 uries, 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 prob- 
 ably 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 
 
 (' 
 
 tjniversitT 
 
22 ARISTOTLE 
 
 the whole of the literary and scientific education was 
 called simply "letters" (ypafifjuiTa). 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 distin- 
 guishes 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 fol- 
 lowed 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 pre- 
 scription, 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 9 ; 
 but, gradually discovering that the answer to this 
 brings no complete explanation of the world, it pro- 
 pounds its other questions. It thus arrives at a con- 
 sciousness of four distinguishable elements in the 
 constitution of things, — four causes (airta, aiVtat), as 
 they were termed, — (1) matter, (2) form, (3) efficiency, 
 
INFLUENCES ON EDUCATION 23 
 
 (4) end or aim. At tlie same time, and by the same 
 process, it is forced to a recognition of the presence 
 of reason (Xoyo?) and intelligence (vov?) 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 rea- 
 son and intelligence, and to devote itself to the con- 
 sideration 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 
 (o-o<^to-T7;s, one who makes wise), or, as he later with 
 more modesty calls himself, the philosopher (<^tXoo-o<^os, 
 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 philoso- 
 pher represents, between popular tradition and com- 
 mon 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 ac- 
 complished 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 vic- 
 tories gained in these at Marathon, Salamis, and 
 Platseae, victories the most brilliant that history re- 
 cords, 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 
 
24 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 Promeiheia of ^schylus 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 paean in stone to Divine Wisdom, as the 
 conqueror of brute force? In the sphere of thought, 
 we find Parmenides, Anaxagoras and, above all, Soc- 
 rates (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 re- 
 duced them to order," says the second; "Know thy- 
 self " 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. 
 
INFLUENCES ON EDUCATION 25 
 
 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 ^schylus, 
 with its complicated institutions and manifold educa- 
 tion. 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 
 
 I 
 
 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 gen- 
 erally. — Abistotle. 
 
 In treating of Greek education subsequent to the 
 introduction of letters and tlie establishment of schools, 
 we shall be obliged, in th^ 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 in- 
 cludes, roughly speaking, the whole historic life of 
 free Greece, from the date of the first Olympiad to 
 26 
 
EPOCHS IN GREEK EDUCATION 27 
 
 that of the absorption of Greece into the Macedonian 
 Empire. It naturally subdivides itself into two pe- 
 riods, (a) 776-450; (6) 450-338. 
 
 (a) That of the " Old Education, " authoritative and 
 puritanical, whose aim was the training of good citi- 
 zens, 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 Chseronea, in which 
 Greece lost her independence, to the definitive tri- 
 umph 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; 
 (6) B.C. 146-A.D. 313. 
 
 (a) The Macedonian Period, during which Mace- 
 donian influence prevailed, and Greek thought and 
 education, absorbing foreign, chiefly Oriental, ele- 
 ments, tended toward an encyclopaedic cosmopalitan- 
 ism. During this period, Alexandria is the centre of 
 Greek influence. 
 
 (6) The Roman Period, during which, as Horace 
 says, "Captive Greece took captive her rude con- 
 queror," and Rome became, alongside Alexandria, a 
 diffusive centre of Greek thought, art, and education. 
 
28 ARISTOTLE 
 
 Between the two great periods, the Hellenic and the 
 Hellenistic, stands the man who draws up the testa- 
 ment of the former and outlines the programme of the 
 latter, the Macedonian Greek, Aristotle. 
 
 Our second distinction will lead us to treat sepa- 
 rately, in the Hellenic period, the educational system 
 of the three Greek races, (1) the ^olic, (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 Athe- 
 nian 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 
 
EPOCHS IN GREEK EDUCATION 29 
 
 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) 
 
 CHAPTEE 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 condi- 
 tions of life and those which contribute to the free enjoyment of it 
 (Siaywyij) , 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 refer- 
 ence 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 per- 
 mitted 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 
 
 33 
 
34 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 re- 
 quired a certain training in those arts which were 
 regarded as befitting a free man. Education, accord- 
 ingly, 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 cul- 
 tivated long before, not only by professional bards, 
 but even by princes, like Achilles and Paris; this, 
 however, was for the sake of amusement and recrea- 
 tion 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 distinc- 
 tion leads, how it governs not only all education but 
 all the institutions of life, and how it finally contrib- 
 utes to break up the whole civilization which it de- 
 termines. It may fairly be said that Greece perished 
 because she placed the end of life in individual aesthetic 
 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 
 
EDUCATION FOR WORK AND FOR LEISURE 35 
 
 minstrel and his own rhapsode, the professional min- 
 strel 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 ^olian race, and particularly 
 the Asiatic portion of it. Accordingly we find that 
 all the earliest musicians and poets, didactic and lyric, 
 are J^olians — Hesiod, Terpander, Arion, Alcseus, 
 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 — Hel- 
 lanicus. But the ^olians, though earliest in the 
 field, were soon outstripped by the other two races, the 
 Doric and the Ionic, ^olian education and culture 
 never advanced beyond music and lyric poetry. It 
 knew no drama, science, or philosophy. 
 
 The ^olians were followed, almost simultaneously, 
 by the Dorians and lonians, who pursued two widely 
 divergent directions. The former borrowed the lyric 
 education and culture of the ^Eolians, and produced 
 several lyric poets of distinguished merit — Tyrtaeus, 
 Alcman, Ibycus, Stesichorus : nay, they even advanced 
 far enough to take the first steps in science, philoso- 
 phy, 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. 
 
36 ARISTOTLE 
 
 The lonians, on the contrary, borrowing freely from 
 both ^olians 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 ex- 
 actly the opposite cause to that which stunted them 
 among the Dorians; namely, to excessive individual- 
 ism, 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 state- 
 craft, and the State itself was only the highest educa- 
 tional institution. This was equally true whether the 
 schools were public, as at Sparta, or private, as at 
 Athens. Everywhere citizenship was a degree, con- 
 ferred only upon sons of free citizens, after a satis- 
 factory examination (SoKt/Aao-ta) . 
 
 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, 
 
EDUCATION FOR WORK AND FOR LEISURE 37 
 
 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 u:iiversity. At the beginning of the third 
 period, the young men took their first State examina- 
 tion, and if they passed it successfully, they received 
 the degree of Cadet or Citizen-novice (ecfyrj/Sos) ; but it 
 was only at the beginning of the fourth period, and 
 after they had passed a second examination (SoKt/mo-ta 
 CIS avSpas:), that they received the degree of Man and 
 Citizen and were permitted to exercise all the func- 
 tions 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 ^olians generally. 
 As a consequence it is only among the ^olians 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 pre- 
 vent 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 Thucyd- 
 ides 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 
 
 ^OLIAN 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 icoman). 
 
 What rustic hoyden ever charms the soul. 
 
 That round her ankles cannot kilt her'coats? — 7d. 
 
 The ^olians appear to have been the earliest of 
 the Greek races to make any considerable advance in 
 culture. Their claim to Homer can hardly be sus- 
 tained; but they certainly produced Hesiod, most of 
 the greater lyric poets and poetesses, and the first 
 historian. Yov a time they bade fair to lead the cul- 
 ture 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 cul- 
 ture. In the glorious struggle in which Greece main- 
 tained the cause of culture and freedom against Persia, 
 Thebes, then the chief centre of ^Eolianism, sided with 
 the barbarian, as, indeed, was natural. 
 38 
 
JEOLIAN OR THEBAN EDUCATION 39 
 
 Theban education was, of course, a reflex of the 
 character of the Theban and, indeed, of the Boeotian, 
 people. Its main divisions were those of Greek edu- 
 cation 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 Boeotians 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 Boeotia 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 
 Boeotian ^olians 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 main- 
 tain their ascendency only by brute force. When this 
 failed, and the conquered race, which had never for- 
 gotten 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 con- 
 ditions 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 ^ and Lysis, tlie latter of whom was proba- 
 
 1 It is worth while to note that it was a passage from Philolaus 
 that suggested to Copernicus the revolution otJii» earth round a 
 centre. /'^'W^^^i^'^' '^>'"> 
 
 V OF * . 
 
40 ARISTOTLE 
 
 bly tlie 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 educa- 
 tion 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 prov- 
 ince of his empire. Pythagoras, Lysis, Epaminondas, 
 Philip, Alexander — in five brief generations an ear- 
 nest teacher conquers a world ! 
 
 From the time of Epaminondas on, Thebes followed 
 the ordinary course of Greek education. 
 
CHAPTEK, III 
 
 DORIAN OR SPARTAN EDUCATION 
 
 \^y 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 Thermopylx) . 
 
 This is a matter for which the Lacedaemonians deserve appro- 
 bation : they are extremely solicitous about the education of their 
 youth and make it a public function. — Aristotle. 
 
 The Lacedaemonians 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 he 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 ! — Hbmans. 
 
 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 ham- 
 mered into shape by gymnastics, they were praised ; but if their 
 limbs showed any flabbiness or softness, any little swelling or sus- 
 
 41 
 
42 ARISTOTLE 
 
 picion 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 Lacedsemon but 
 flesh-cooks. A cook who knew anything else was driven out of 
 Sparta, as physic for invalids. — ^lian. 
 
 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 — Strexgth, which, in 
 the individual, took the form of physical, endurance, 
 in the State, that of self-sufficiency (avTap/ceta). 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 
 
DORIAN OR SPARTAN EDUCATION 43 
 
 strictness, demoralizing. The character of the people 
 was summed up by their poet Epimenides, a contem- 
 porary 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 unquestion- 
 ing loyalty which made them formidable, were, in the 
 ninth century e.g., becoming disorganized, so that in 
 two of the Dorian states they were assimilated by 
 the native population, the Argives and the Messe- 
 nians. The same process was rapidly going on in the 
 third state, Lacedsemon, when Lycurgus, fired with 
 patriotic zeal, resolved to put an end to it, by restor- 
 ing among his people the old Dorian military disci- 
 pline. To prepare himself for this task, he visited 
 Crete and studied its institutions. On his return he 
 persuaded his countrymen to submit to a " Constitu- 
 tion," 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 endur- 
 ance, 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. 
 
44 ARISTOTLE 
 
 Instruction in letters was confined to tlie merest ele- 
 ments. Sparta accordingly never produced a poet, 
 an historian, an artist, or a philosopher of any note. 
 Even the arrangers of her choruses were foreigners 
 — Tyrtseus, 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 mainte- 
 nance of its own supremacy, as against (1) foreign 
 enemies, (2) Perioikoiy 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 
 (Pliiditia). The women had but one recognized func- 
 tion, 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, 
 
DORIAN OR SPARTAN EDUCATION 45 
 
 pity, mercy. The mercilessness and cruelty of the 
 Spartans were proverbial. Perioikoi and Helots incur- 
 ring 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 proclama- 
 tion 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 free- 
 dom. But the treacherous garland only marked them 
 out as victims for sacrifice : every man of them forth- 
 with disappeared ; the manner of th^ir 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 child- 
 hood, boyhood, youth, and manhood. 
 
 (a) Childhood. — As soon as the Spartan child 
 
46 ARISTOTLE 
 
 came into the world, the State, through officers ap- 
 pointed 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 under- 
 went very much the same process as other Greek chil- 
 dren, 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 (7rai8ovo/xos), 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 con- 
 nection 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, 
 
DORIAN OR SPARTAN EDUCATION 47 
 
 there can be no doubt that it admirably served the 
 purposes of Sparta. It furnished eveny 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 some- 
 thing in which the Greeks at all times strongly be- 
 lieved, and which formed an important force in all 
 their education. In Sparta, as in Crete and Thebes, 
 At was legally recognized. One of the duties of Spar- 
 tan " inspirer" (ela-n-vrjXa^ or cia-irvrjXo^) , as he was 
 called, was to teach his young friend (dtra?) 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; every- 
 thing 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 estab- 
 lishes among men distinctions of worth quite other 
 than military, and gives them individual interests 
 distinct from those of the State. It was the same 
 
48 ARISTOTLE 
 
 reason that induced Rome, during the best period of 
 her history, to exclude her citizens from all higher 
 education, which is essentially individual and cosmo- 
 politan. 
 
 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 con- 
 tinual 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 unqual- 
 ified 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-educa- 
 tion 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 rebel- 
 lious 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 pun- 
 
DORIAN OR SPARTAN EDUCATION 49 
 
 ished. A story is told of a boy who, rather than be- 
 tray himself, allowed a stolen fox, concealed under 
 his clothes, to eat out his entrails. 
 
 In one respect Spartan education may claim supe- 
 riority over that of most other Greek states : it was 
 not confined to one sex. Spartan girls, though appar- 
 ently 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 exer- 
 cise-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 hideoi, but 
 had to undergo a rigid examination before the ephors 
 every ten days (see p. 41). Their endurance was put 
 
50 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 Arte- 
 mis). 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 bur- 
 dened on their account. Thus the image that came 
 from the sacrifices in the Crimea has always con- 
 tinued 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 Parthe- 
 non. 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 sup- 
 
DORIAN OR SPARTAN EDUCATION 51 
 
 posed 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 chil- 
 dren before they had ever seen their wives by day- 
 light. 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 Xeno- 
 phon and Plato, who were sick of Athenian democ- 
 racy; 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 train- 
 ing 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 edu- 
 cated 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. 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 PYTHAGORAS 
 Virtue and health and all good and God are a harmony. — Py- 
 
 THAGOKAS. 
 
 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 Hel- 
 lenic ideal, and numerous attempts were made to 
 remedy its defects and to give it permanence, by con- 
 necting 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 loni- 
 ans, his family appears to have been Achaian and, to 
 some extent, Pelasgian (Tyrrhenian), having emi- 
 grated from Phlius in the Argolid. After distinguish- 
 ing himself in Ionia, he emigrated in middle life to 
 62 
 
PYTHAGORAS 53 
 
 Magna Graecia, and took up his abode in tlie 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, Phoenicia, 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 
 Phoenician 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 ethi- 
 cal ideas from Sparta or Crete. 
 
 Of his activity in Ionia we know little; but we may 
 perhaps conclade 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./3 5). 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 
 
54 ARISTOTLE 
 
 midst of irreverence, selfishness, and democratic vul- 
 garity and anarchy, he believed that his time de- 
 manded 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, Epi- 
 charmus, etc. — and underwent many modifications, 
 until they finally witnessed a resurrection, in the 
 forms of Xeo-Pythagoreanism and Neo-Platonism, 
 after the Christian era. In these later guises, Pythag- 
 oreanism lost itself in mysticism and contemplation, 
 turning its followers into inactive ascetics; but in its 
 
PYTHAGORAS 55 
 
 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 perfec- 
 tion 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 doc- 
 trine 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 
 
56 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 huriian relations. In 
 order to accomplish the latter object, he invoked the 
 aid of divine authority and of the doctrines of metemp- 
 sychosis and future retribution. Hence his educa- 
 tional 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' teach- 
 ing. 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, reflec- 
 tion, 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. 
 
PYTHAGORAS 57 
 
 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. 
 
58 ARISTOTLE 
 
 These precepts having mastered, thou shalt know 
 
 The system of the never-dymg 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 aU 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. 
 
PYTHAGORAS 69 
 
 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 here- 
 after, as the reward of right living: (3) Its piety, in 
 that it everywhere recognizes the need of divine assist- 
 ance: (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 perfec- 
 tibility. It is curious that the poem contains no 
 reference to the doctrine of metempsychosis, which 
 might apparently have been appealed to as a power- 
 ful 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. 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
CHAPTER V 
 IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 
 
 Let me now give an account of the Old Education, when I, utter- 
 ing 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 diflScult inflexions a la 
 Phryuis 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, gurashon-bamboozling disputes, 
 but, going down to the Academy, with some worthy companion of 
 60 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION Gl 
 
 your own age, you will start a runuing-match, crowned with white 
 reed, smelling of smilax, leisure and deciduous white poplar, rejoic- 
 ing 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 
 fsivov.— Pericl.es' Funeral Oration {Thiicydides). 
 
 1 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 ray fathers. And I call to witness Aglauros, Enya- 
 lios, Ares, Zeus, Thallo, Auxo, and Hegemone. — Oath of the Athe- 
 nian 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 re- 
 garding young men ; and, thirdly, with regard to the other periods of 
 life in their order, including both private persons and public speak- 
 ers ; and, having recorded these laws, they left them in your keeping, 
 appointing you their guardians. — ^Eschines {against Timarchus) . 
 
 If systems of education are to be classified accord- 
 ing 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 
 
62 ARISTOTLE 
 
 displayed, and the exploits which she performed, 
 the early decades of the fifth century b.c, bear une- 
 quivocal testimony to the value of the training to 
 which her citizens had previously been subjected. 
 This training could perhaps hardly be better charac- 
 terized than by the word " puritanical." The men whc 
 fought at Marathon, Salamis, and Plataeae were puri- 
 tans, trained, in a hard school, to fear the gods, 
 respect the laws, their neighbors, and themselves, 
 reverence the wisdom of experience, to despise com-J 
 fort and vice, and to do honest work. They were not 
 enfeebled by aesthetic 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 be- 
 cause we are the better informed regarding the educa- 
 tional system of Athens than that of any other Greek 
 state, it seems proper to devote special attention to it, 
 treating it as preeminently 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 distinc- 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 63 
 
 tions: (1) While Spartan education is public, Athe- 
 nian 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 edu- 
 cation, 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 edu- 
 cation of their own children, was removing a strong 
 moral influence, undermining the family, and jeop- 
 ardizing liberty. Perhaps the example of Sparta 
 was not without its influence. No liberty-loving peo- 
 ple, 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 civilizaton. And it was one of which both 
 peoples were entirely conscious. While Sparta rep- 
 resented 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 coor- 
 dinately 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 author- 
 
C4 ARISTOTLE 
 
 ity. If the Spartan, like the artificially tamed barba- 
 rian, submitted to living by rule and command, the 
 Athenian, like the naturally civilized man, delighted 
 to live in a free and natural way (dvct/Ae»/tos Stairao-^at) 
 governed from within, and not from without. To 
 make possible such life was the aim of Athenian edu- 
 cation, which, instead of seeking to merge the man 
 in the State, or to rend the two asunder, treated thein 
 as necessary correlates and strove to balance their 
 claims. 
 
 The endeavor on the part of Athens to steer a mid- 
 dle course between socialism and individualism, is 
 manifest in the fact that, though she had no public sys- 
 tem 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 condi- 
 tion 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 sup- 
 port in their old age. Furthermore, Athens subject 
 all her male citizens to a systematic preparation i r 
 civil and militar}^ functions, before she allowed them 
 to exercise these. 
 
 Athenian education comprised four grades corre- 
 sponding 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 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 65 
 
 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 aesthetic, ethical, 
 and national prepossessions awakened. Though chil- 
 dren 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. 
 
66 ' ARISTOTLE 
 
 Though disinclined to harshness, he never doubted 
 that "he who spareth the rod hateth the child.'" 
 Children were never placed upon exhibition or ap- 
 plauded 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. ISTo 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 aif ected, 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 there- 
 fore 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 occu- 
 pation. Moreover, as games have no end beyond 
 themselves, they are admirable exercises in free, dis- 
 interested activity and a protection against selfish and 
 sordid habits. Of all this the Athenians were fully 
 aware. 
 
IONIAN OK ATHENIAN EDUCATION ' 67 
 
 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 peda- 
 gogical 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 Patroos, and made a member of a 
 
68 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 sol- 
 diers, in rank and file. They wore next to no cloth- 
 ing, 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 sun- 
 rise 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 informa- 
 tion 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 de- 
 voted to each of the two branches of study. In regard 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 60 
 
 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 writ- 
 ten as early as b.c. 424, that "the people (8^/u.os) 
 builds itself many palsestras, 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 palsestras were for boys, as we appar- 
 ently 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 state- 
 ment 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 Antis- 
 thenes, 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 
 
70 ARISTOTLE 
 
 not separated from the physical. In the Lysis of 
 Plato, we find some young men coming out of a palaes- 
 tra outside the city walls, and inviting Socrates to^ 
 enter, telling him that their occupation {htaTpi^rj) 
 consists mostly in discussions (ra ttoXKo. h Xdyois), 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 (veaj/titTKot) playing together, the former having 
 just finished a sacrifice. It seems to follow directly 
 from this that intellectual education was imparted in 
 the palaestras. If this be true, we may, I think, con- 
 clude that in Athens the schools generally were out- 
 side 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 prob- 
 able 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 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 71 
 
 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 intellec- 
 tual 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 Komans, 
 the Athenians sought to prepare their sons for inde- 
 pendent 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 
 (//., vi, 208; xi, 784), 
 
 " See that thou ever be best, and above all others distinguished," 
 
72 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 intelli- 
 gence 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 in- 
 tended to enable men to occupy worthily and soci- 
 ably 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, accord- 
 ing to the Greeks, furnished the proper amusements 
 for educated men (TreTratSev/AtVot) . 
 
 • (a) Musical (and Literary) Instruction. 
 
 Though the Greek word music (fiovaiK-^ came in 
 later times to have Un 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 Tyrtseus, 
 Solon, Theognis, etc., the iambics of Archilochus, 
 Simonides, etc., and the songs of the numerous lyr- 
 ists, Terpander, Arion, Alcseus, Alcman, Sappho, 
 Simonides, etc. The music was simple, meant to 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 73 
 
 "sweeten" (rjSvveLv) the words and bring out their 
 meaning. In fact, the music and the poetry were 
 always composed together, so that the poet was nec- 
 essarily also a musician. What we call " harmony " 
 was unknown in Greek music at all times, and instru- 
 mental 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. Cul- 
 ture, 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 admir- 
 ation 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 
 
74 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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, unsentimen- 
 tal, free world did these poems introduce the imagina- 
 tive 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 partiotism, 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 sing- 
 ing 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 treas- 
 ure 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 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 75 
 
 their verses from dictation, and so at once to read and 
 to write. This, indeed, was the way in which these 
 two (to lis) 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, an 
 singing well, and the youth who could not do all th 
 three was looked upon as uncultured. Nor could he 
 hide his want of culture, since young men were con- 
 tinually 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 (Xvpa, 
 KiOapLs:). 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 
 
76 ARISTOTLE 
 
 skill in any of them, except poetry and musical com- 
 position, to be incompatible witli 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 influ- 
 ence upon their lives of which Ave can form but a faint 
 conception. To them it was a daemonic power, capa- 
 ble of rousing or assuaging the passions, and hence of 
 being used for in^nite good or eviL - Ne wonder, then, 
 that in their education they sought to employ those 
 kinds which tended to " purgation " (Kadapais), and 
 to avoid those that were exciting, sentimental, or 
 effeminate! Ko wonder that they disapproved of 
 divorcing music from the intellectual element con- 
 tained 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 mat- 
 ter of the will, would have conveyed no meaning), but 
 as a force whose office it was, by purging and harmo- 
 nizing the human being, to make him a fit subject for 
 moral instruction. Music, they held, brought har- 
 mony, 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 distinc- 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 77 
 
 tion was yet made between music and literature (ypa/x- 
 fiara), botli being taught by the citharist (KLOapLarrrjs:) . 
 Indeed, the term for teacher of literature (ypa/A/xaTto-Tij?) 
 was not then invented. But the citharist not only 
 taught literature: he also taught the elements of 
 arithmetic, a matter of no small difficulty, consider- 
 ing 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 (ftdOpa), while the teacher occupied a high 
 chair (6p6vo<s). The benches were washed, apparently 
 every day, with sponges. The only decorations per- 
 mitted 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 fes- 
 tival was regarded as an act of worship to some divin- 
 ity. The chief school festival seems to have been 
 the Musea (/otovo-cta), at which the boys recited and 
 sang. 
 
 (13) Gymnastics or Bodily Training. . 
 
 Under the term Gymnastics (yu/xvao-TtKTJ), 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, 
 
78 ARISTOTLE 
 
 strength, adroitness, ease, self-possession, and firm, 
 dignified bearing. A certain number of boys, intend- 
 ing to take part in the Olympic and other great games, 
 were allowed to train as athletes under a gymnast] 
 (yv/Avao-Tiy?, dAetTTTT/s) 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 
 palsestras, or wrestling schools, partly on the race- 
 courses, both of which were under the direction of 
 professional trainers (7raiSoTpt)8at) . In early times, 
 the palaestra and race-course were simply an open 
 space covered with sand and probably connected with 
 the school (SiSao-KoActov), 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 con- 
 ducted on the race-course, so that the palaestra was 
 reserved for what its name implied. It is by no neans 
 certain that every palaestra had a race-course con- 
 nected 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 run- 
 ning from the agora to beyond the walls. Just as 
 the schoolroom Vv'as decorated with images of Apollo 
 and the ]\Iuses, so the palaestra was decorated with 
 images of Hermes, Heracles, and Eros, symbolizing, 
 respectively, adroitness, humane strength, and youth- 
 ful friendship. The special patron of the palaestra 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 79 
 
 was Hermes, and the gymnastic exhibition took the 
 form of a festival to him, the Hermsea, at which a 
 sacrifice was offered and the boys were allowed the 
 use of the building to play games in, the victors wear- 
 ing crowns. 
 
 It would be impossible, in a work of this compass, to 
 enter into a minute description of all the exercises of 
 the Athenian palaestra. We must be content with a 
 general statement, which may be prefaced with the 
 j.*emark that these exercises were at first light, in- 
 creasing gradually in rigor and difficulty as the 
 strength and skill of the growing child i)ermitted. 
 
 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 {TraX-q), which last gave the name to the 
 palsestra. We shall not strictly follow this order, 
 but begin with 
 
 (i) Running. — This was the simplest, lightest, most 
 natural, and, therefore, the most easily taught of ex- 
 ercises. It was probably also the oldest. We find 
 even Homer making his ideal Phaeacians begin their 
 games with it, and this practice seems to have been 
 general throughout antiquity. In taking this exer- 
 cise, the boys divested themselves of all clothing and 
 had their bodies rubbed with oil. The running ap- 
 pears to have been of the simplest kind. Hurdle- 
 races, sack-races, etc., were apparently excluded from 
 education. At the same time, the running was ren- 
 dered 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 fur- 
 
80 ARISTOTLE 
 
 longs 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 
 = 202 J yards English. The shorter races called for 
 brief concentration of energy, the longer for persist- 
 ence 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 exer- 
 cise 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 
 
 I 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 81 
 
 threw as far as lie could. The discobolus of Alca- 
 menes 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 per- 
 fect 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 
 
82 AKISTOTLE | 
 
 wrestler was to throw (Kara/SaXXeLv) 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 Avrestlers scraped 
 from their bodies, with a strigil, the oil and dust,^ 
 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 in- 
 tended 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 gym- 
 nastic 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 unharmo- 
 nized. And, indeed, he did not so leave them, but 
 brought them together in the most admirable way in 
 what he called orchesis, sl word for which we have no 
 better equivalent than 
 
 (y) Dancing (6pxr](rL<s, x^po?)- 
 
 "Dancers," says Aristotle, "by means of plastic 
 rhythms (rhythms reproduced in plastic forms) imi- 
 
 1 This is represented in the charming Apoxyomenos of the 
 Vatican. 
 
 1/ I 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 83 
 
 tate characters, feelings, and actions." Xenoplion, in 
 his Anabasis, describing a banquet that took place 
 in the wilds of Paphlagonia, says : " After the treaty 
 was ratified and the paean sung, there first rose up 
 two Thracians and danced in armor to the flute, leap- 
 ing 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 as- 
 sailant, 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 ^nianes and 
 Magnesians stood up and danced the so-called Carpsea 
 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 differ- 
 ent nationalities, follow; but enough has been quoted 
 to show that the Greek opxyjcn-^ was something very 
 different from our dancing. It was, indeed, a panto- 
 mimic ballet, interspersed with tableaux vivans. 
 
 In the dances here mentioned, the flute is the 
 instrument employed, and this the player could not 
 
84 ARISTOTLE 
 
 accompany with his voice. But in the Athenian 
 schools, in the old time, the flute, and all music with- 
 out words, were tabooed. There can be no doul*. 
 therefore, that in these the orchestic performanc' - 
 were accompanied by the lyre, the player on whicli 
 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 com- 
 pletely harmonious way. Ht is this harmony, this 
 rhythmic movement of the body in consonance with 
 the emotions of the soul and the purposes of the in- 
 telligence, that is grace (x^pi-^)' Hence, while tlie 
 Greeks relied upon gymnastics to impart strength and 
 firmness to the body, they looked to dancing for court- 
 liness 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 pre- 
 cincts; in which case we may suppose that, while the 
 dancing exercises took place in the palaestra, the musi(3 
 was supplied by the music master. We know that 
 the chorus-leader was a public officer, appointed bv 
 the demos, and had to be over forty years old. In an 
 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 ai-t, the dram; 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 85 
 
 78iS but a development of the Bacchic or Dionysiac 
 horus. This development consisted in the separation 
 f the music from the pantomine, and the assignment 
 f the former to the chorus, which no longer danced, 
 ut walked, and of the latter to the actors, who added 
 he dialogue to it. Greek life was divided into three 
 arts — civil, military, religious. Music and letters 
 i^ere a preparation for the first, gymnastics for the 
 econd, and dancing for the third. Dancing formed a 
 )rominent part in Greek worship, and it may be 
 oubted whether free Athenians ever danced except 
 before the gods " — iv rats 7rp6<s tovs 6covs irpoaoSoL's, as 
 (^enophon says. 
 
 Two things still remain to be considered with regard 
 Athenian schools, (1) grading, (2) holidays. With 
 espect to the former, the practice probably differed 
 t different times; but we seem to be justified in as- 
 uming that, at the time of which I am speaking, 
 here were but two grades, boys (TratSes) and youths 
 vcavto-Kot). These are mentioned by Plato, in the Lysis, 
 ,s celebrating the Hermeea together in a palsestra. 
 Dhe first grade would include the boys from seven to 
 ileven years of age; the second, those from eleven to 
 if teen. As to holidays, they seem to have been sim- 
 )ly the feast-days of the greater gods, when business 
 f every sort was suspended. Such days amounted to 
 bout ninety annually. 
 
 (3) College Education. 
 
 About the time when he was blossoming into man- 
 lood, that is, some time between his fourteenth and his 
 ixteenth year, the Athenian boy of the '•olden time 
 
86 ' ARISTOTLE 
 
 was transferred from the private school and palaestra, 
 which belonged to the family side of life, to the gym- 
 nasium, 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 (KaXoKayados;), 
 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 con- 
 veniences, 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 gym- 
 nasium was under the patronage of Heracles, whose 
 worship always implies the presence of a foreign and 
 vanquished element. These were the only two gym- 
 nasia 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. 
 
 "WTiile the children of nearly all the free citizens of 
 Athens attended the school and the palaestra, it i 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATIOIsf 87 
 
 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 exclu- 
 sively 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 bul- 
 wark 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 
 gymnashim 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, box- 
 ing, 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 
 Avhat 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 
 
8S ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 pub- 
 lic 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 ex- 
 pressed itself mostly in the form of devoted friend- 
 ships to other youths of his own, or nearly his own, 
 age, a fact which enables us to understand why friend- 
 ship 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 exer- 
 cises 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 
 palaestra were continued, running and wrestling espe- 
 cially; 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 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 80 
 
 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 assem- 
 bly, 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 ephebos, cadet, or citizen-novice, ready to undergo 
 those two years of severe discipline which at once 
 formed his introduction to practical affairs, and con- 
 stituted 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 
 
 TTNIVERSITY 
 
 ■y 
 
90 ARISTOTLE 
 
 {<f>povpLa) 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 epheboi of 
 one year's standing passed an examination in mili- 
 tary drill before the assembled people (dTreSet^avTo t<2 
 SrjfjLio Trept ras rd^etq ^), after vt^hich they were employed 
 as militia to man the frontier guard-houses, and as 
 rural gendarmerie (rrepLiroXoL), scouring the country in 
 all directions. They now lived like soldiers in war- 
 time, and learnt two important things, (1) the topog- 
 raphy 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 ac- 
 quainted 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 
 epheboi 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 (SoKt/xao-ta ei? 
 ai/Spas), after which they were full members of the 
 State. 
 
 (4) UXIVERSITY EdUCATIOX. 
 
 The Greek university was the State, and the Greek 
 State was a university — a Cultur-Staat, as the Ger- 
 
 1 So says Aristotle, who tells ns further that in his time on this 
 occasion they were presented with spear and shield by the people 
 (see p. 97) . 
 
IONIAN OR ATHENIAN EDUCATION 91 
 
 mans 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 over- 
 estimated. 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 politi- 
 cal 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 8,nd as a school so long as 
 she embodied that ideal, so long as she distributed 
 power and honor in accordance with worth (dpcTy) 
 intellectual, moral, practical; in a word, so long as 
 the State was governed by the best citizens (a/ato-rot), 
 and the rest acknowledged their right to do so. Kot- 
 
92 ARISTOTLE 
 
 withstanding 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 ^schylus, Sophocles, Aristophanes, Plato, Aris- 
 totle, Demosthenes. 
 
Part II 
 
 THE "NEW EDUCATION" (b.c. 480-338) 
 
 CHAPTEK I 
 
 INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Homer ought to be driven from the lists and whipt, and Archilo- 
 chus 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 Chaerephon, 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 differ- 
 
 • 93 
 
94 ARISTOTLE 
 
 ent 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 Dating, 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. — -^sc:hylus. 
 
 From the time they are children to the day of their death, 
 we teach them and admonish them. As soon as the child under- 
 stands what is said to him, his nurse and his mother and his peda- 
 gogue 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 (xiflapicns) ; 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 {au}(})po(rvvri) and to prevent the boys from fall- 
 ing 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 accompani- 
 ments to them, and compelling them to work into their souls the 
 rhythms and melodies of them, so that they may grow in gentle- 
 ness, and, having their natures timed and tuned, may be fitted to 
 speak and act. The truth is, the whole life of man needs timing 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 95 
 
 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 any- 
 thing 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 
 
96 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 free- 
 man 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 servi- 
 tude to some one or another, and without power to do almost any- 
 thing 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 noth- 
 ing 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. Regis- 
 tration as member of a deme or township takes place when eigh- 
 teen years of age are completed. Before it takes place the towns- 
 men 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 ver- 
 dict 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 Heliaea, and the muni- 
 cipality delegate five of their body to accuse him of illegitimacy. 
 If he is found by the jurors to have been illegally proposed for the 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 97 
 
 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 any- 
 one 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 superin- 
 tendent 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 Piraeus, 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 artil- 
 lery. 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 com- 
 mons 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 suc- 
 cessions to hereditary priesthoods. When the three years are com- 
 pleted they fall into the ordinary body of citizens. — Aristotle, 
 Constitution of Athens (Poste's Veision, 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 
 
08 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 part}^ in power, of course, this 
 seemed a rebellion against lawful authority and privi- 
 lege, and it did its best to suppress it. Hence came 
 the rigorous legislation of Draco; later the more con- 
 ciliatory, 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 Athe- 
 nian* 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 indus- 
 try. 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 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 99 
 
 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 impor- 
 tance. 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 espe- 
 cially to the battle of Salamis, in which Athens was 
 saved by her fleet, manned chiefly by marines (eTrt^arat) 
 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 his- 
 tory 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 for- 
 eign 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 
 
100 ARISTOTLE 
 
 men of " advanced " ideas in art and science sought a 
 field of action within her borders. Such a field, in- 
 deed, 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 for- 
 eigners 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 prac- 
 tically and by herself, viz., virtue and wisdom. Their 
 ideas were novel, striking, and radical, hence conge- 
 nial 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 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOS'OPifY IGl 
 
 parents. No wonder that tlieir 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^imth-Ls, 
 
 fliPy-jrpprPSPritPrl^ in p ro pfipp anr | \ j] thp.nry^ thfl Bpiri t 
 of individua liSP^j whiVh wag fhpn (^v(^ry\^rhpr(^ nssprting 
 itspTfa^ggJTi^tJJTP^spJ^ Hf of natio TLalift ni or polit yT 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 edu- 
 cation thatconstitutes th^JjNi^w F^diigation." 
 
 This" spirit, as manifested in the sophists and their 
 teaching, directed itself against the old political spirit 
 
tfJs' ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 educa- 
 tion in which these ideas occupied a prominent place. 
 [What the sophists actually taught the ambitious young 
 ■men who sought their instruction, was self-assertion, 
 iinscrupulousness, 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 foun- 
 dations of the art of rhetoric and the science of gram- 
 mar. 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 palaestra, 
 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 edu- 
 cation, 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 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 103 
 
 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 palaestra the new spirit showed itself in a ten- 
 dency 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 educa- 
 tion. 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 physi- 
 cal 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. 
 
104 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 cor- 
 rupting 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 them- 
 selves. Thus, just as the character of the " Old Edu- 
 cation " of Athens showed itself in the behavior of her 
 sons in the Persian Wars, so that of her " New Educa- 
 tion " showed itself fifty years later in the Peloponne- 
 sian 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 circum- 
 stances 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. ^schylus, 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 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 105 
 
 in the meanest cot. ^Eschylus thus became, not only 
 the father of Greek tragedy, but also the sublimest 
 moral teacher Greece ever possessed. For moral gran- 
 deur there is but one work in all literature that can 
 stand by the side of ^schylus' Oresteia, and that is 
 the Divine Comedy. Yet ^schylus 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 yawn- 
 ing before them. The world has never seen such 
 earnest comedy, not even in the works of Moliere 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 Cynos- 
 arges and the city walls, as a gymnasium for them. 
 
106 ARISTOTLE 
 
 "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 mag- 
 nificent structures. AVhat he did towards the com- 
 pletion 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 
 Propylaea 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 w^as 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 OAvn private 
 life, in which he openly defied one of the laws of the 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 107 
 
 State, and tried to make concubinage (kratp-q<jL<i) re- 
 spectable, 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 some- 
 thing 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 godsj The problem 
 of how to restore the moral life of Athens and Greece 
 presented itself to Socrates in this form : The old ethi- 
 cal social sanctions, divine and humany having, under 
 the influence of rationalism and individualism, lost their 
 power, where and how shall we^nd gther sanctions to 
 take_Jh£ir^j3la£e^^ 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 compre- 
 hension 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 naive tradition 
 and prescription, sanctioned by gods of the imagina- 
 tion, would have to give place to a moral life resting 
 
108 ARISTOTLE 
 
 upon self -understanding and reflection. He accord- 
 ingly adopted as his motto the command of the 
 Delphic oracle, Know Thyself (yvCjOt o-eauroV), 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, Aris- 
 tophanes among them, as the best possible representa- 
 tive 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 knowl- 
 edge, and never so much in his element as when, in 
 the presence of a knot of young men, he could, by his 
 
 J 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 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 109 
 
 which they were parts. Such is the Socratic or dia- 
 lectic (= 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 sav- 
 ing truth consisted of whole thoughts; he held also 
 that all such thoughts were universally and neces- 
 sarily 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 e ternal mind to which it is pres- 
 ent, and by wh ich it is manifested in t he 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. AY" 
 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 indi- 
 vidualism. " 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 rea- 
 son by which the world, including the State, is gov- 
 
110 ARISTOTLE 
 
 erned." 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 sepa- 
 rates 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, super- 
 ficiality, and ignorance. Between them, they com- 
 passed 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. Jndeed, 
 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 etiilcsr~all liberty, and all sci- 
 ence. 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 im- 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 111 
 
 mediate 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 atten- 
 tion 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 gym- 
 nastic 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-univer- 
 sity. 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 person- 
 ally 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 right- 
 eousness, 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 impor- 
 tance attached to right knowing, and that compara- 
 tive neglect of right feeling and right doing, which 
 in the sequel proved so paralyzing. Hence the fail- 
 ure of Socrates' teaching to stem the tide of cor- 
 ruption in Athens, and restore her people to heroism 
 and worth. 
 
 Socrates left behind him many disciples, some of 
 whom distinguished themselves in practical ways, 
 
112 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 (liis 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 
 
 >f 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 Antis- 
 thenes, maintained that virtue was a purely personal 
 matter, and that the wise man stood high above any 
 and all social institutions. These two views main- 
 tained themselves, side by side, in nearly all subse- 
 quent Greek thought, and at last found expression in 
 
 ^ the State and Church of the Christian world. 
 
 Two of Socrates' followers, believers in institu- 
 
INDIVIDUALISM AND PHILOSOPHY 113 
 
 tional 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 conserva- 
 tive 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 wor- 
 thiest 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 Ly- 
 curgus, 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. 
 
 Xenophox was in no sense a philosopher or a prac- 
 tical 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 ob- 
 server, 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 coun- 
 114 
 
XENOPHON 115 
 
 try, 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 Lyciirgus 
 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 peda- 
 gogical romance in far-off Persia. 
 
 ^'In the Education of Cyrus (Kvpov TratSeta) 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 deal- 
 ing 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 dis- 
 position, 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 appear- 
 ance 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 
 
116 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 ^^vares and 
 chafferers, with their cries and vulgarities, to *an- 
 other 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 build- 
 ings is divided into four parts, one for boys, one for 
 youths (icftrj^oL), 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 gov- 
 ernors, 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 
 
XENOPHON 117 
 
 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 let- 
 ters. 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 de- 
 ceit and slander, and similar things, and those whom 
 the judges iind 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 
 
118 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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-dis- 
 cipline 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 (t<^rjpoi). 
 
 "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 whicli 
 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 ser- 
 vice 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 
 
XENOPHON 119 
 
 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 accus- 
 toms 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 be- 
 tween 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, other- 
 
120 ARISTOTLE 
 
 wise 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 pur- 
 sued 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 them- 
 selves 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 
 
XENOPHON 121 
 
 hands, snch as we see in pictures of the Persians, 
 and a sword or bill in their right. And all the offi- 
 cials 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 Per- 
 sians 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 employ- 
 ment 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 epheboi, while those who have not completed this 
 education are not. Again those that pass their youth 
 
122 ARISTOTLE 
 
 among the ephehoi, and come up to the legal require- 
 ments, 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 
 ephehoi 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 edu- 
 cation here set forth is purely political : men are re- 
 garded simply and solely as citizens ; all honors are 
 civic honors. (2) No provision is made for the edu- 
 cation 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 ex- 
 cluded 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 democrac}' : 
 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 prevail- 
 
XENOPHON 123 
 
 ing tendencies. Not one word is said of the intel- 
 lectual 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 intellec- 
 tual 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 cham- 
 pion of his own views, and does not this fact deter- 
 mine the whole character of his work? Is it not a 
 romance, in the same sense that the Cyropcedia 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 free- 
 dom and disregard as those of Cyrus' life? 
 ^ Before we part with Xenophon, we must call atten- 
 tion 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 ^olian states and even Dorian Sparta provided, 
 in some degree, for women's education, Athens appar- 
 
124 ARISTOTLE 
 
 ently, 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 (Economics 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 some- 
 thing 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 
 
 f/-' 
 
XENOPHON 125 
 
 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 mat- 
 ters, 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 sacri- 
 ficed, 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 disposi- 
 tion 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 
 
126 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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,.! 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 pres- 
 ent 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. Xor 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 con- 
 tributes the more valuable things. Then, Socrates, 
 my wife replied, and said : In what way can I cooper- 
 ate 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 abil- 
 ity. And what are these? said she. It strikes me, 
 said I, that they are by no means the least important 
 
XENOPHON 127 
 
 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 serxic£^_atti^so has 
 
 Cr THF ■ 
 
 NIVERSITf 
 
128 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 mem- 
 ory 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 
 
XENOPHON 129 
 
 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 con- 
 struction 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 
 
130 ARISTOTLE 
 
 iudoors, 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, \yhen 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. When- 
 ever 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 go- 
 ing to be grateful and kindlier than they were before. 
 And I, ' said Ischomachus, * admiring her answer, con- 
 tinued: 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 sur- 
 prised 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 wast- 
 ing their labour? And indeed, said my wife, they are 
 to be pitied, if they do that. There are other special 
 

 XENOPHON 131 
 
 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 
 
132 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 ease. 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 hetcerce, or in 
 worse relations still, a coarse substitute for that satis- 
 faction 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 founda- 
 tions 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 pre- 
 ^vaileth 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, treas- 
 uring 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 spir- 
 itual religion from the forms of political life, — a step not less sig- 
 nificant 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. 
 
 133 
 
134 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 Gitd. 
 
 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 abso- 
 lutely 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 it- 
 self, 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 
 
PLATO 135 
 
 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, dia- 
 lectics 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 includedr" 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, Sopho- 
 cles, etc., and especially, as we have seen, in Pythag- 
 oras ; — 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 in- 
 spiration of Love (c/aws) — a longing akin to madness 
 (/nana), kindled by physical beauty, but tending to the 
 Supreme Good. This good, as we shall see, consists 
 in the vision (Oeoipio) 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 sub- 
 mission to them. The dialectic method is the process 
 by which the inspired mind rises from the beauty of 
 
136 ARISTOTLE 
 
 physical things, which are always particulars, to the 
 beauty of spiritual things, which are always uni- 
 versals, 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 
 tiniyersals, so that they form together a correlated 
 whole, sees all truth, and is the sage. 'What we call 
 universals Plato called "ideas" (i8€ai= forms or spe- 
 cies). 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 in- 
 fluence of these two views upon the subsequent course 
 of Greek education and life. The former suggested to 
 the super-civic man a sphere of activit}^ 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, w^hile it has inspired no great civic 
 movement, has played such a determining part in 
 
PLATO 137 
 
 ecclesiasticism, and why, nevertheless, the Church 
 for ages was compelled to fight the tendencies of it, 
 which it did in great measure under the aegis 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 Laivs, 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 Laivs, 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 im- 
 pressed 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 prob- 
 ably 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 de- 
 fective education of children, (2) the neglect of women, 
 (3) the general disorganization of the State through 
 
138 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 
 aesthetic schemes ever proposed for this end, it is 
 incomparably the best. It proposes nothing less than 
 the complete transformation of society, without offer- 
 ing 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 for^ 
 bidden. The State is but the individual writ large, 
 and the* individual has three faculties, in the proper 
 development and coordination of which consists his 
 well-being: the same, therefore, must be true of the 
 State. These faculties are (1) intellect or reason, 
 (Aoyto-TiKov, Xoyos, vovs, etc.), (2) spirit or, courage (6vfi6<s, 
 6vfxo€i^€<i), (3) desire or appetite {linOvfxCa, i-mOvfi-qTiKov, 
 <l>i\oxprifJMTov) . The first resides in the head, the sec- 
 ond in the heart, the third in the abdomen. . The first 
 is peculiar to man, the second he shares with the ani- 
 mals, and the third with both animals and plants. 
 The proper relation of these faculties exists when 
 reason, with clear insight, rules the whole man (Pru- 
 dence); when spirit takes its directions from reason 
 in its attitude toward pleasure and pain (Fortitude) ; 
 when spirit and appetite together come to an under- 
 standing with reason as to when the one, and when 
 
PLATO 139 
 
 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 rela- 
 tions between his own faculties. It is only in the 
 State that they are relations between the individual 
 and his fellows. Eather 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 facul- 
 ties 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 indi- 
 vidual, 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 isola- 
 tion, 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 de- 
 fence of the State. These two classes together con- 
 
140 ARISTOTLE 
 
 stitute the guardians (<j>vXaKes:) of the State, and stand 
 to each other in the relation of head and hand. They 
 X3roduce 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, never- 
 theless, 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 indi- 
 vidual citizen in the class to which by nature he be- 
 longs, that is, in which his nature can find the fullest 
 and freest 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 
 
PLATO 141 
 
 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. 
 
142 ARISTOTLE 
 
 however, a strong Ionic or Athenian element, nota- 
 bly on the intellectual and aesthetic side. It ma}' 
 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 harmo- 
 nious 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 
 harmon}^. 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 dishearten- 
 ing, 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 escha- 
 tology, with an " other world," consisting of three well- 
 
 i 
 
PLATO 143 
 
 defined parts, — Elysium, Acheron, and Tartarus, — 
 corresponding to the Paradise, Purgatory, and Hell of 
 Catholic Christianity; with one important difference, 
 however, d'^e 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 geon, of ten 
 thousand years, when they are again allowed to 
 return to life and renew their struggle for that com- 
 plete 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) instruc- 
 tion. 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. 
 
144 ARISTOTLE 
 
 upon philosophy. In these last two divisions we 
 have the root of the mediaeval 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 al- 
 ways 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 disap- 
 
PLATO 145 
 
 proves 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 kinder- 
 garten. 
 
 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. 
 
146 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 satisfac- 
 tion. 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 al- 
 ways have for their subject the soul, rather than the 
 body, and never degenerate into mere athletic brutal- 
 ity. 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 organi- 
 zation; 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 virtu- 
 ally 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 par- 
 ticularly severe upon the dramatists, not sparing even 
 the sublime ^schylus. In fact, he would banish from 
 his State all art not directly edifying. The literature 
 which he recommends is plainly of the nature of 
 -^sop's Fables, the Pythagorean Golden Words, and 
 
PLATO 147 
 
 the Parmenidean or Heraclitean work On Nature. If 
 we wished to express his intent in strictly modern 
 language, we should have to saj 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 justi- 
 fied 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 
 
148 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 contin- 
 uous 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 
 aesthetic 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 insti- 
 
PLATO 149 
 
 tutions 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 gov- 
 erned 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 differ- 
 ence between the Repuhlic 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 prop- 
 erty, 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 j he no longer divides his 
 
160 ARISTOTLE 
 
 citizens into sages, soldiers, and wealth-producers, 
 but into freemen (corresponding to his previous mili- 
 tary class) and slaves. His government is no longer 
 an aristocracy of intellect, but a compound of aristoc- 
 racy, oligarchy, and democracy, representing, respec- 
 tively, 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 dia- 
 lectics. Though women are no longer to be relieved 
 oi their home duties, they are sfill to share in the 
 education and occupations of men, an arrangement 
 which is facilitated by the law ordauiing that both 
 men and women shall eat at public tables. In mak- 
 ing these changes, Plato believed that he was falling 
 from a \oitj, but unrealizable, ideal, and making con- 
 cessions 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, iu 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 com- 
 mand, I should devote myself to Greek, in spite of all the difficulties 
 I know. Nature and Aristotle should be my sole study. It is be- 
 yond 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 lect- 
 ureship 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. 
 
 153 
 
154 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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. — Axexander Bain. 
 
 Aristotle is the Father of the Inductive Method, and he is so for 
 two reasons: First, he theoretically recognized its essential prin- 
 ciples with a cleai-ness, and exliibited them with a conviction, whichi 
 strike the modern man \^^th 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 recog- 
 nizes more acutely, the needs of man. — Bluxtschli. 
 
 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 facul- 
 ties 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 edu- 
 cated 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 gener- 
 ally. 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. 
 
LIFE AND WORKS 155 
 
 Aristotle was born about b.c. 384, in the Greek 
 colony of Stagira in Thrace, near the borders of Mace- 
 donia. 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, Phsestis, 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 educa- 
 tion, 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 informa- 
 tion which in later life he worked up into lectures 
 and scientific treatises. J^^thing^fiScaped-kim, neither 
 art, science, religion, philosophy, nor politics. He 
 seems, being well off, to have begun early to collect 
 a library, and to aim at encyclopaedic 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- 
 
 OF 
 
 ALIFORN 
 
156 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 treach- 
 erously 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, a^_tu|or_to_Alfi^ander, 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 
 Nymph(Bum. 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. A^^ien Alex- 
 ander, at sixteen, entered his father's army, Aristotle 
 still continued to teach in the Xymphseum, Avhich 
 
LIFE AND WORKS 157 
 
 existed even in Plutarch's time, more than four hun- 
 dred years afterwards. But this lasted only for about 
 tive 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 him- 
 self, 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 Chseronea, 
 and taken away her autonomy forever, as a rival of 
 the Platonists, and as a wealthy, well-dressed gentle- 
 man, 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 
 com posed most of those great works in which he 
 
158 ARISTOTLE 
 
 sought to sum up, iu an encyclopaedic 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 treat- 
 ises 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, 3fetaphysics, 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 munifi- 
 cent 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 positig]a_at AJbhfi5LS_ 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 
 
LIFE AND WORKS 159 
 
 only by dread of Alexander's displeasure. Even 
 when it was known that Aristotle had incurred dis- 
 favor 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 
 liad 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 mat- 
 ter 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 punish- 
 ment 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 Eubcsa, 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 diedMn_322^ shortly before Demosthenes, of 
 disease of the stomach, from which he had long suf- 
 fered. 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 
 
160 ARISTOTrE 
 
 in the hands of Theophrastns, who succeeded him in 
 the Lyceum. His will, tlie text of which has come 
 down to us, bears testimony, along with all else that 
 we know of him, to the nobility, kindliness, and jus- 
 tice of his nature. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Platon revait ; 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 
 seK-determination is the supreme and eternal life. And wo 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 con- 
 tains 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 thouglit of Aristotle differs from that of Plato 
 l)otli in its method and in its results. Plato, reared 
 in the school of Pythagoras, Parmenides, Heraclitus, 
 
 161 
 
1C2 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 
 iiicrease_the_5:eiy_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 it 
 logical consequences. But, in doing this, he was pit 
 pared 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 indi vidual 
 con sciousn ess, and trying to discover ultimate truth 
 by bringing its data into harmony among themselves, 
 Aristotle, appeals to the historic consciousness, and 
 endeavors to lind truth by harmonizing and comple- 
 menting its data through a further appeal to the outer 
 world, in which these data are realized. He main- 
 tains 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, ex- 
 pound, and apply, becoming thus the father of all true 
 science. And he makes a more extensive use of in- 
 
HIS PHILOSOPHY 163 
 
 duction 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 con- 
 sciousness. Indeed, he everywhere begins his search 
 for concrete truth by examining the historic conscious- 
 ness, and, having, by a process of induction, discov- 
 ered and generalized its conten'fs, he turns with these 
 to nature and, by a second induction, corrects, com- 
 pletes, 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, Psy- 
 chology, etc., hence the fact that a great deal of 
 science, instead of correcting, widening, and harmoniz- 
 ing 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, unre- 
 flective as well as reflective. Then, with this meaning. 
 
164 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 subjec- 
 tively in an historic process in the human conscious- 
 ness, and objectively^ in a natural process in the outer 
 world.7 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 conscious- 
 ness, 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 har- 
 mony. Only then does he know either. 
 
 Such a philosophy as this, instead of drawing men 
 away from the world of nature and history, and con- 
 fining them to the narrow circle of their o^vn conscious- 
 ness, 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 power- 
 fully affected both social life and science. Neverthe- 
 
 II 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. 
 
HIS PHILOSOPHY 165 
 
 less, 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 
 b^ing, 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 V ^ 
 her struggle against Pantheism, and v^^hich paved the ' 
 way for that higher mysticism of which Thomas L 
 Aquinas is the most distinguished exponent — a mys- 
 ticism 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 Eeality, the inex- 
 haustible source of all thought and all things. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S THEORT OF THE STATE 
 
 First, then, let iis 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 theoiy 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 gov- 
 ernment, 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 pos- 
 sessed 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, what- 
 ever it may be, whether intellect {vov^) 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 di^ine in relation to human life. Instead, 
 then, of following those who ad%ise us, as being human, to set our 
 166 
 
HIS THEOKY OF THE STATE 167 
 
 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, there- 
 fore, 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 Caesar, 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 't were, 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. 
 
<L^ 
 
 168 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 _cosmo- 
 politan, and writes in the interest^of science and uni- 
 versal 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 Juture, and, though no one lays 
 greater stress than he upon the necessity of a knowl- 
 edge 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 St^te is prior to the individual," by which he 
 means that it is man's political nature working in him 
 
 at makes him an individual, and at the same time 
 realizes itself in a State. And this brings us to Aris- 
 totle's conception of the State, which we must consider 
 before taking up his theory of education, for tlie 
 reason that to him, as to all the. ancient world, educa- 
 tion is a function of the State, and is conducted, pri- 
 marily at least, for the ends of the State. 
 
 Before venturing upon a theory of the State, Aris- 
 totle, true to his inductive principles, wrote the Con- 
 stitutional Histories of over two hundred and fifty 
 
HIS THEORY OF THE STATE 169 
 
 different states. One of these, the Consiitiitional His- 
 tory of Athens, has recently been discovered and pub- 
 lished (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 Sta te, that is, its self - 
 realizing form. E mploying tES method, then, he 
 came to the conclusion that the Siat a is that h ighfijsi: 
 social institution . which secures the highest good or 
 happiness of man. Having, in a previous treatise, 
 satisfied himself that this good is Wort h (aperrj), and 
 worth being in every case the full exercise of charac- 
 teristic or differentiating faculty, he concludes that, 
 since man's distinguishing faculty is reason, the State 
 is the institution which secu res to ma n the fullest and 
 freest exercis,e of this. It follows directly that the( 
 State is, simply and solely, the supreme educational 
 institution, the university to which all other institu- 
 tions 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 prepa- 
 ration 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 con- 
 templation, the Vision of the Divine (Oecapta). 
 
 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 s© paved the way for religious monasticism 
 and asceticism, Aristotle maintains that in every 
 
170 ARISTOTLE 
 
 civilized man, as such, there is a super-civic part, 
 in fact, a superhuman and divine part, for the com- 
 plete 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 " r/ie Philosopher," and as the "Forerunner of 
 Christ in Things Xatural." In vain did Peter Kamus 
 and Luther and Bruno and Bacon depreciate or anath- 
 ematize 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, Aris- 
 totle conceives the divine life to be possible for man 
 on earth. He answers that, though it cannot be per- 
 fectly 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 friend- 
 ship or spiritual love (<^tA.6a), 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 
 
HIS THEORY OF THE STATE 171 
 
 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, gath- 
 ered 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. 
 
CHAPTEE IV 
 
 ARISTOTLE'S PEDAGOGICAL STATE 
 
 Nature is the beginning of everytliing. — Aristotle. 
 
 Life is more than meat, and the body than raiment. — Jesus. 
 
 The forces of the human passions in us, when completely re- 
 pressed, 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 foetus did not become a living creature 
 tUl 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 com- 
 munity, 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 en- 
 forced by law, when population had exceeded certain assigned 
 limits. No law in Greece, or in the Roman Republic, or during the 
 172 
 
HIS PEDAGOGICAL STATE 173 
 
 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 inliuman, 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 abso- 
 lutely 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 pro- 
 poses. ... 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. Kow, Aristotle's State might with entire 
 propriety be called a Pedagogical Province. In try- 
 ing 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, teaqher 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. 
 
174 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 con- 
 sider (1) its natural, (2) its social, conditions. The 
 former are climate, and extent, nature, and situation 
 of territory; the latter, number and character of in- 
 habitants, property regulations, distinction of classes, 
 city architecture, mode of life, government, and rela- 
 tions to other states. 
 
 Aristotle^ demands for his State a temperate cli- 
 mate, 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 c onditions, 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 
 (eOvo^) and the confederacy ((rufifiaxta) ; but he holds 
 that they exist merely for material ends, whereas the 
 
HIS PEDAGOGICAL STATE 176 
 
 / 
 
 end of the State is spiritual. (2) He means by " citi- 
 zen " 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 mechan- 
 ics, 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 neces- 
 sarily be in the State a very large number of other 
 human beings, slaves, agriculturists, mechanics, sail- 
 ors — 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 con- 
 siidermg 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 " (dmyKata) 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 pro- 
 
176 ARISTOTLE 
 
 pounds a scheme which is half socialistic. All the 
 land is to belong to the State^jthat_is,_to the body of 
 theTree 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, inca- 
 pable of virtue, will crave for more. 
 
 Upon the distinction of _classes___some light has 
 been already thrown. They are two ; the ruling and 
 th e rule d. Aristotle holds that t his distinction ru ns 
 through the whole of nature and s pirit, that it is 
 fundamental in being itself. It holds between God 
 and the universe, form and matter, soul and body, 
 object and subject, husban(f~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 
 
HIS PEDAGOGICAL STATE 177 
 
 is sub-divided into husbandmen, mechanics, and sea- 
 men (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 fl.vo.h itect ure of the cvt?^ will in some degree 
 correspond to this social division. It will naturally 
 fall into three divisions, military, religious, and civil, 
 rirst 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, con- 
 spicuously 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 conven- 
 ient 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 politi- 
 cal life, all that is left to it is the life of the family. 
 
178 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 pub- 
 lic business, the citizens may meet in the Freemen's 
 Square and enjoy an open-air conversazione, with 
 music, poetry, and philosophy, in a word, Staywy?}, for 
 which our language has no even approximate equiva- 
 lent (see p. 33). In proportion as they advance in 
 years, the citizens enjoy more and more StaywyT/, 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 circum- 
 stances, 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 Staywyi}, so all 
 
HIS PEDAGOGICAL STATE 179 
 
 war is for the sake of peace; and tliat State is to be 
 envied which can maintain an honorable independ- 
 ence 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. 
 Vt the same time, it will always be prepared for war, 
 jiossessing an army of well-trained, well-armed sol- 
 diers, 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. It^ 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 Xeno- 
 phon's ideal. 
 
 The purpose of the State is to educate its citizens, 
 to make them virtuous. Virtue is the very life-prin- 
 ciple 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 
 
180 AKISTOTLE 
 
 learn their practical duties by performing them, and 
 are completely under the control of the citizens. 
 Aristotle makes the most vigorous eiforts 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 insti- 
 tution. The daughter is to be educated by the par- 
 ents, and the wife by the husband, exactly as recom- 
 mended 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 seem- 
 ing 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 agree- 
 ment, owing to the fact that different people have 
 different views as to what kinds of worth are admir- 
 able, and consequently differ in regard to the means 
 to be employed for the cultivation of them. One 
 pjwnt, however, is perfe*^ctly 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^seful subjects ought to be taught which 
 do noFturn those learning them into craftsmen. We 
 
HIS PEDAGOGICAL STATE 181 
 
 ought to look upon every employment, art, or study 
 which contributes to render the bodies, souls, or intel- 
 lects 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 intel- 
 ligence. 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 objec^ . 
 tions 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, wh"rj^nR_ Jf hp d'^^rr H r.fft> ^^- 
 for the sa ke of anybody e l se, he will be held to be 
 doing something mercenary or slav ish." 
 
 ^"THe next and~~aIPimportant question is. For what 
 end shall the State educate, — for business s^ 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 fn.r more im portant 
 than education for busine ss, an d 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 ele- 
 gantly. 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. 
 
182 ARISTOTLE 
 
 If this is impossible, and tlie 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 adminis- 
 tering 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 princi ples Aristotle lays d ovvn as vali d for 
 all education: (1) that the training of the body 
 ought to take precedence in time over that of tlie 
 mind; (2) that pupils should be taught to do things 
 
HIS PEDAGOGICAL STATE 183 
 
 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 m.ental ; (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 coeur d'un homme vierge est un vase profond — 
 Lorsque la premiere eau qu'on y verse est impure, 
 La mer y passerait sans laver la souillure ; 
 Car I'abime est immense, et la tache est au fond. 
 
 — Alfred de Musset. 
 
 The State must begin the education of children be- 
 fore their birth ; indeed, before the marriage of their 
 parents. It must see that only persons of robust con- 
 stitutions 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 emo- 
 tional 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 
 184 
 
EDUCATION THE FIRST SEVEN YEARS 185 
 
 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 chil- 
 dren 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 U a 
 matter for the attention of those officers called Guar- 
 dians 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 prohib- 
 ited, as they are in some places. They contribute to 
 the growth of the body, by acting as a sort of gymnas- 
 tics. 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 
 
186 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 prohib- 
 ited in all society (for frivolous impurity of talk easily 
 leads to impurity of action), but above all, in the so- 
 ciety 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 sub- 
 jected to corporal punishment; if he be older, it will 
 be sufficent 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 
 
EDUCATION THE FIRST SEVEN YEARS 187 
 
 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 after- 
 Avards 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 (7rat8ovo/xoi, child-herds) are 
 plainly borrowed from Sparta. 
 
 (university 
 
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 ujjon 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 ^bran ches, — "Let- 
 ters, 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 emo- 
 tions, he maintains that it is only by being properly 
 188 
 
YEAES FROM SEVEN TO TWENTY-ONE 189 
 
 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 main- 
 tains 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 (TraihoTpLpLKrj), 
 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 Lace- 
 daemonians 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 nobilit y, and not 
 
\ 
 
 190 ARISTOTLE 
 
 ferocity, ought to play tlie 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, use- 
 ful for the ends of the State only in a single requi- 
 site, 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 ^Dut 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 rec- 
 ord 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 assidu- 
 ously 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." 
 
YEARS FROM SEVEN TO TWENTY-ONE 191 
 
 On Music, as a branch of study, we have almost 
 a disquisition^ffom the pen of Aristotle. The ques- 
 tion 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 gen- 
 tlemanly bearing and noble deeds. And apart from 
 the natural manifestations of the passions themselves, 
 there is nothing in which we can find anger, gentle- 
 ness, 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 
 
192 ARISTOTLE 
 
 from rhythms and songs, in rejoicing and suffering 
 properly, brings ns very near being affected in the 
 same way by the realities themselves." Here Aris- 
 totle 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 lis- 
 teners 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 
 ax3tual 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 cal- 
 
YEARS FROM SEVEN TO TWENTY-ONE 193 
 
 culated 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 shnwri thatj nusic is a prope r 
 subject of instru ction, goes_£)n t^ inq^uiT^^^ ^^ whether 
 children ought, or ought not, to be taught music,, by 
 being -ta:ilght""t6 siiig~and play themselves? " His 
 answer is" weII"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, chil- 
 dren 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 
 
194 ARISTOTLE 
 
 and unsuitable for different ages, or to answer those 
 people who pretend that the study of music is some- 
 thing 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 crafts- 
 men, 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 proj)osed. 
 
 "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 educa- 
 tion 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 exhibi- 
 tions, and passed from them into education, the chil- 
 dren were to learn just enough to enable them to take 
 
YEARS FROM SEVEN TO TWENTY-ONE 195 
 
 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 manipula- 
 tion." . . . "We would, then, condemn all profes- 
 sional 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 profes- 
 sionals 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 philoso- 
 
196 ARISTOTLE \ 
 
 pliers, who divide songs into ethical, practical, and 
 enthusiastic, assigning to them the different harmo- 
 nies respectively, and we affirm that music is to be 
 employed, not for one useful purpose alone, but for 
 several; Jirstf 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 etJios 
 or habit of the soul) must be employed for instruc- 
 tion; the practical and enthusiastic for entertain- 
 ments 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 accom- 
 panied 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 
 
YEARS FROM SEVEN TO TWENTY-ONE 197 
 
 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, 
 ^ve 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, how- 
 ever, must be kept in view, the practicable and the 
 befitting. I mean that we must discuss what is spe- 
 cially practicable for different people, as well as 
 what is befitting. This, indeed, will depend upon 
 the different periods of life. For example, it would 
 
198 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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_th^e are three distinct th ings 
 to be considered i n" reference to ed ucation, av oidanc e 
 of extremes, practicability, and appropriateness . " 
 
 So much for the four branches of study which, 
 according to Aristotle, ought to compose the curric- 
 ulum of g^out h. 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, 
 Ehetoric (including Poetics), Dialectic, Arithmetic, 
 Geometry, and Astronomy, which, along with Music, 
 make up the Seven Liberal Arts, the THvium 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 
 
YEARS FROM SEVEN TO TWENTY-ONE 
 
 199 
 
 education for a thousand years. We might perhaps 
 draw out Aristotle's programme of secondary educa- 
 tion thus : — 
 
 
 
 Physical 
 
 ;Dancing(seep. 82) ] 
 [Deportment I 
 
 Before 
 
 
 
 Training 
 
 puberty 
 
 
 
 
 -Running 
 
 V 
 
 
 
 
 Leaping 
 
 Before 
 
 
 Practical • 
 
 Gymnastics 
 
 Javelin-casting 
 Discus-throwing ^ 
 Wrestling 
 Shooting 
 
 puberty. 
 
 Studies: . 
 
 Creative 
 
 [Music 
 [ Drawing 
 
 Marching 
 Drilling 
 
 After 
 puberty. 
 
 
 
 -Riding 
 
 
 
 
 ' Grammar 
 
 
 
 
 
 Rhetoric 
 
 Before puberty. 
 
 
 
 
 Dialectic 
 
 
 
 
 Theoretic • 
 
 Arithmetic 
 Geometry 
 
 After puberty. 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 .Astronomy . 
 
 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 EDUCATION AFTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 Be assured that happiness has its source, not in extensive pos- 
 sessions, 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 splen- 
 did 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 exces- 
 sive these conditions are, the more widely and deeply do they 
 injure their possessors, being unaccompanied with right-mindedness. 
 — Akistotle. 
 
 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 train- 
 ing become citizens or politicians, and begin to exer- 
 cise the functions of such. These are of two kinds, 
 (1) active, practical, or executive, and (2) delibera- 
 tive, theoretical, or legislative. As action must, on 
 200 
 
 k 
 
EDUCATION AFTER TWENTY-ONE 201 
 
 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 delib- 
 erative 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 t hus study practical p hilosophy — 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 I 
 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 
 ($€0)pLa). 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 prac- 
 tice, 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. 
 
I 
 
 202 ARISTOTLE 
 
 They are necessary complement^ of each other. Prac- 
 tice 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 gradu- 
 ally 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 
 f\ 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 aesthetic, — 
 / a coordinated, harmonious whole, whereof the indi- 
 / vidual is but a part : not moral or religious — a self- 
 surrender of the individual to the supreme will ; con- 
 sequently, (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 pos- 
 sible 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 inde- 
 pendent 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 power- 
 less 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) 
 
^ 
 
CHAPTEE I 
 
 FROM ETHNIC TO COSMOPOLITAN LIFE 
 
 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more. — Byron. 
 
 Most gloriou^<)jpbll 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 aether not one, nor one on the face of the sea ; 
 Save the deeds that evil men, driven by their own blind folly, have 
 
 planned ; 
 
 205 
 
206 A'RISTOTLE 
 
 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 deli- 
 cate 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 dee(fs 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 ed- 
 ucation 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 citi- 
 zen was expected to find a field' for all his activities. 
 We have seen how, while conservative Sparta clung 
 
FROM ETHNIC TO COSMOPOLITAN LIFE 207 
 
 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 aii_ epidemic of individualism which 
 threatened the existence of all that was Hellenic. 
 Against this destructive power the noblest men in the 
 nation, an ^Eschylus, 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 indi- 
 vidual 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 con- 
 clusion : 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 
 spixit of the civilization which took its place. If we 
 
208 ARISTOTLE 
 
 look closely at the schemes of Plato and Aristotle, 
 we shall see that they try to render innocuous the^wv 
 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 J 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 Chaero- 
 nea, which took place sixteen years before Aristotle's 
 death, by putting an endJpQrevfijL iQ,^he free civic 
 life of Greece, removed the very conditions under 
 which the old ideal could realize itself, and forced 
 
FROM ETHNIC TO COSMOPOLITAN LIFE 209 
 
 men to seek a sphere of activity, and to form associ- 
 ations, outside of the State. The State, indeed, still 
 maintained a semblance of life, andTthe old education, 
 with its literature, gymnastics,"and~rQiiSic still contin- 
 ued; but the spirit of both was gone. The State was 
 gradually replaced by the philosophic schools, while 
 intellectual training tended more and more to concen- 
 trate 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 pre- 
 tentious, empty indivi dualism of the rhe toridaji^ the 
 lineal descendant of the sophists, and in the philo- 
 sophical 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 philistjnism. 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 sub- 
 ject. 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. 
 
210 ARISTOTLE 
 
 Por hundreds of years they exerted an enormous in- 
 fluence, 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 dis- 
 persed 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 Pythag- 
 orean 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 dur- 
 ing the lifetime of the latter, into sects (aipcVets, 
 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 contem- 
 poraneously, two other schools, which exerted an 
 influence, deep and wide, for over six hundred years. 
 These were the Epicurean_ajid^tJ_ie_^ Widely as 
 
 these differed in respect to means, they sought the 
 
FROM ETHNIC TO COSMOPOLITAN LIJFE 211 
 
 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 Eoman 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. 
 
 Kot 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 nu- 
 merous discipleship. This, however, was no longer 
 exclusively, or even mainly, Greek, but was recruited 
 from all the nations of the known world, more espe- 
 cially those of the East. Phoenicians, Syrians, Jews, 
 Persians, etc., not to speak of Egyptians, now became 
 students of Greek philosophy, and members of philo- 
 sophic sects, whose members not only studied together, 
 but often, to a large extent, lived together in com- 
 munities. 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 
 
212 ARISTOTLE 
 
 discuss, and to exchange opinions. Nor was it Greek 
 thouglit alone that engaged their attention. The opin- 
 ions and beliefs of Egypt and the East came in for 
 a share, and, in the end, for the largest share. Xor 
 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 Neopy- 
 thagoreans, and the Neoplatonists, all of whom, not- 
 withstanding certain shortcomings, did much to purify 
 life, and to pave the way for a higher civilization. 
 
 In B.C. 146, Greece, and,Jn b.c. 30, Egypt, fell into 
 the hands of the Komans and thenceforth formed 
 provinces of their empire. Athens and Alexandria 
 were now Roman university -towns, while Rome 
 
FROM ETHNIC TO COSMOPOLITAN LIFE 213 
 
 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 Chris- 
 tianity. 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 Plo- 
 tinus the philosopher. By doing so we shall pave the 
 way for the consideration of the Rise of the Christian 
 Schools. 
 
CHAPTEH 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 com- 
 mon knowledge, and belong to no definite science. Hence every- 
 body, 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. — Akistotle. 
 
 There is a certain political theory which is made up of many 
 gi-eat things. A large and important part of it is artificial elo- 
 quence, which they call rhetoric. — Cicero. 
 
 Every duty which tends to preserve human relations and human 
 society must be assigned a higher place tha^^any that stops short 
 with knowledge and science. — Id. 
 
 Zeno, having pressed his fingers together and closed his fist, said 
 that was like Dialectic; ha^dng 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 exi)erimental knowledge of the usages of lan- 
 guage 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) ex- 
 position according to poetic figures [literary criticism], (3) ready 
 statement of dialectical peculiarities and allusions [philology, geoL;- 
 raphy, history, mythology], (4) discovery of etymologies, (5) accu- 
 rate accoimt of analogies [accidence and syntax], (6) criticism of 
 poetical productions, which is the noblest part of the grammatic art 
 [ethics, politics, strategy, etc.].— Dioxysius Thkax. 
 214 
 
QUTNTtLIAN AND RHETORICAL EDUCATION 215 
 
 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. — /ScAo^m 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 common- 
 wealth (from which^ose 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 baby- 
 hood, 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 geome- 
 ter, the horse-breaker ; he rises early ; he has no chance for leisure. 
 He becomes a cadet ; again he has to fear the drill-fnaster, the phys- 
 ical 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 
 
216 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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, vagse moderator summe juventae, 
 Gloria Romanae, Quintiliane, toga;. — Martial. 
 
 Up to the time when Rome_began to decline, the 
 school education of her youth was m eagre in the ex- 
 treme, consisting of reading, w^riting, and a little law. 
 All later education that was more than this was bor- 
 rowed from the Greeks. It was about the year 200 B.C., 
 at the close oi the Second Punic War, that their in- 
 fluence began clearly to show itself. The severe Cato, 
 who so cordially despised rhetoricians and philoso- 
 phers, learnt Greek in his old age and w^rote, 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 Eome lost her national character and 
 became cosmopolitan, she more and more adopted 
 Greek manners, Greek religion (or irreligion), and 
 Greek education. When,^£n.a lly , in b, c . 146, Greece 
 became a Eoman dependenc}^, it was strictly true that 
 "Captive Greece took captive her rude conqueror." 
 Thousands of Greek schoolmasters, rhetoricians, phi- 
 losophers, 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 mis- 
 tress of the world, had either to become cosmopolitan 
 
QUINTILIAN AND RHETORICAL EDUCATION 217 
 
 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, liter- 
 ature, (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 Eoman education was in the hands 
 of Greeks, it was conducted in the Greek language, 
 and the authors read and discussed were Greek. But 
 the Eomans, though willing enough to borrow Greek 
 culture, were unwilling to remain permanently in in- 
 tellectual dependence upon a conquered people, which 
 in many respects they despised. Strong efforts, there- 
 fore, were made to develop a national literature and a 
 national education. About th^jyggj- t^.p. IOQ^ Tinoi ns 
 ^lius Prseconinus Stilo, a wYvrthy _p,rifl pon sPT-vativp. 
 Roman knight, opened a private class in Latin gram- 
 mar 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, in- 
 deed, continued to be spoken by all persons making 
 any pretensions to culture ; but Latin became the lan- 
 guage of Eoman literature. Among the pupils of Stilo 
 were Varro_and_Cicero, who, along with Julius Caesar, 
 may be called the parents of the classical Latin lan- 
 guage, literature, and eloquence. Both Varro and 
 Caesar wrote works on grammar. A certain Cornificius 
 (generally known as Aiictor ad Herennium) about this 
 time wrote the first Latin treatise on Ehetoricj but 
 
218 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 transfor- 
 mation 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 wa,s Qnnitilian, "fhp. 
 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. Dom- 
 inic first saw the light. He was educated in Rome, 
 but afterwards returned to his native place and. estab- 
 lished himself as a teacher of rhetoric. About^Sf^i^S, 
 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 draw- 
 ing 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 
 
QtnXTlLIAN AND llHETORICAL EBtFCATION 210 
 
 child, slionld 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 th^ 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, syl- 
 lables must be learnt — all the possible s;^ables in 
 both languages. After syllables come words, and 
 after words, sentences. In all this process, it is of 
 the utmost importance to se cure thoro ughness by 
 avoidingjiaste. The child must not attempt words 
 till he can read and write all the syllables, nor sen- 
 tences 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 wrmng 
 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 
 
220 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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. ^ 
 
 As soon as he is able, the child should go to school. 
 Home education is objectionable on many accounts, 
 especiallj^ 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 em- 
 ployed, 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. 
 
 A\Tien 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 
 
 1 Like "Peter Piper," etc., and the German "Messweehsel 
 Wachsmaske." 
 
QUINTILIAN AND RHETORICAL EDUCATION 221 
 
 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 iorn).er it will be impossible to scan 
 verse ; without the latter, to understand certain allu- 
 sions 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, As- 
 tronomy, Philosophy, and Geometry. 
 
 Grammar consists of two parts, (1) MetJiodics, or the 
 art of correct speaking, (2) Histories (German Bealien), 
 the interpretation of poets, historians, philosophers, 
 etc. MetJiodics — 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, affecta- 
 tions, 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 inflec- 
 tions to use, what is to be uttered slowly, what rapidly, 
 
222 AmSTOTLE 
 
 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 Yirgil are best to 
 begin with. Though their full import cannot be un- 
 derstood 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 tlie 
 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 i^eculiarities of 
 language and rhythm, to enumerate the different mean- 
 ings 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 role, 
 what is commendable in thought, what in expression, 
 
QUINTILIAN AND RHETORICAL EDUCATION 223 
 
 wliere 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 ^sop, 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 com- 
 position. 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 in- 
 clined to hard work than young men." 
 
 Such, in brief, is Quintilian's school-programme. 
 It has no place for physical science (except Astron- 
 omy), for manual training, or for physical exercise. 
 Play is, indeed, permitted as a necessary recreation, 
 and gymnastics and physical training (7rai8oTpt)8cta) are 
 recommended in so far as they are necessary to enable 
 
224 ARISTOTLE 
 
 the budding orator to move and to gesticulate grace- 
 fully; but that is all. "Nothing can please that is 
 not becoming." 
 
 As soon as he is ready, the young aspirant for ora- 
 torical fame passes into the hands of the rhetorician, 
 under whom he learns all the arts, and acquires all 
 that knowledge, necessary to tit him for his profession. 
 Xo 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 main- 
 tains 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 in- 
 terest 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, disso- 
 lution, 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 ^t 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 
 
 225 
 
226 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 
 Komans, 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 Neo- 
 platonic, or, as it might equally well be called, the 
 Xeoaristotelian or Xeopythagorean, 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. 
 
PLOTINUS AND PHILOSOPHIC EDUCATION 227 
 
 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 philos- 
 ophy. 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 Chris- 
 tian, thought, it would be difficult to overestimate. 
 His school was the Neoplatonic, which, more than 
 any other, united profound thought with mystic 
 theosophy (Oeoipta). 
 
 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 fourtieth 
 year (a.d. 244), to Eome, where he spent the re- 
 mainder 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 Cam- 
 pania 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. 
 
228 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, daemons, 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 
 
PLOTINUS AND PHILOSOPHIC EDUCATION 229 
 
 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 ele- 
 ment, 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, prepara- 
 tory to ethical training (see p. 7). According to 
 the Neoplatonic view, ethical training and the 
 " political virtues " are a mere preparation for purga- 
 tion and the intellectual virtues. And this is per- 
 fectly 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 suppres- 
 sion 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, 
 
230 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 prep- 
 aration for what to him is the supreme branch of 
 education, Dialectics. But the tendency of his teach- 
 ing 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 i^art 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 Jhe 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 con- 
 fusion and dissolution, by ignoring moral life alto- 
 gether, 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 lY 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 Truly it was an old world, and even Caesar'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 Caesar the things that are Caesar'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 
 liateth 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 ex- 
 tend his providence to the individual things of this world. — Id. 
 
 Une immense esperance a passe 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 para- 
 
 231 
 
232 ARISTOTLE 
 
 lyzed by tlie growtli of individualism ; how the wisest 
 men thought to render this innocuous and even benef- 
 icent, 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 Aris- 
 totle 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 be- 
 tween the citizen and the individual, and immeasurably 
 widened the sphere of the latter, in the same propor- 
 tion 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 contem- 
 plate 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 
 
CONCLUSION 233 
 
 persons who claimed to have contemplated divine 
 things showed no such fitness for legislation as to in- 
 duce 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 asper- / 
 ation 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 him- 
 self, with his will paralyzed. Nor could this be other- 
 wise, seeing the nature of the divine things, the 
 contemplation of which was reckoned so important. 
 Instead of being personal attributes, or a person im- 
 posing 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 protes ted t hat all reality is in - 
 div idua l : 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 j 
 and ecstatic his look, is inconceivable. 
 
 But while, in the Greek world, the sphere of activity 
 of the super-civic man was vanishing into nothing- 
 ness, among a small and obscure band of restored 
 exiles of Semitic race, that sphere had come to claim 
 
234 ARISTOTLE 
 
 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 be- 
 fore 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 
 nationalty, 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 
 Erinciple 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 peo- 
 ple, by exemplifying it in his own life, and demanding 
 
CONCLUSION 235 
 
 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 ^ (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 {TrepLTTTJ) , 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 speak- 
 ing, 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.^ 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 
 
 1 It must be borne in mind that the Greek Te'x«"j, 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. 'Ejrt<rT»jM>? is our 
 "philosophy." 
 
 '■^ See Jebb, Homer, pp. 110 sqq. 
 
 239 
 
240 APPENDIX 
 
 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 Pythago- 
 reans had said the same thing before him, and there 
 can be no doubt that Pythagoras himself included 
 under Music (1) Letters, (2) Arithmetic, (3) Geome- 
 try, (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 (Xoywv) and philosophy." 
 But in his time '' Music " was used in two senses, a 
 broad one, in which it included the whole of intel- 
 lectual 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 hatural enough that he 
 should assign to the former the branches which Py- 
 thagoras had included under the latter. His literary 
 scheme appears to be (1) Grammar, (2) Ehetoric, 
 (3) Dialectic, (4) Arithmetic, (5) Geometry, (6) As- 
 tronomy. 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 Stobaeus (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 notice- 
 able in the list of Teles is, that it draws a clear 
 distinction between the lower and higher studies, a 
 
THE SEVEN LIBERAL ARTS 241 
 
 distinction whicli foreshadows the Trivium and Qua- 
 drivium of later times.-^ 
 
 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 Poli- 
 tics and CE3ononiics, and (b) Poetics or Esthetics. 
 
 After Teles we hear little of the Greek school-curric- 
 ulum until about the Christian era. Meanwhile, the 
 Romans, having acquired a smattering of Greek learn- 
 ing, 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 (cXev^epiat, eyKuKXtot, XoytKat) and illiberal (fSdvav- 
 o-ol) arts.^ As early as the first half of the second 
 century b.o,, 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 ap- 
 pears here is Rhetoric ; this the Romans, and notably 
 Cato himself, always studied with great care for prac- 
 tical 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 charac- 
 teristically 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, 
 
 1 It is a pity that we cannot fix the date of the so-called Picture 
 of Cebes (Ke/3»jro? HiVa^). In this we find enumerated the votaries 
 of False Learnins^, (1) Poets, (2) Rhetoricians, (3) Dialecticians, 
 (4) Musicians, (5) Arithmeticians, (6) Geometricians, (7) Astrolo- 
 gers (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" (nSovKoi) are 
 the Gyrenaics ; the " Critics " (<ptTi»coO can hardly be the grammari- 
 ans, though that is usually the meaning of the term in later times. 
 Should we not read kwikoL ? 
 
 2 "Liberal" means fit, "illiberal" unfit, for freemen. The 
 sum of the liberal arts was called 'EyKVK\i.oiTaiSeia, which we have 
 covrn^ted into EncyclopsBdia. y^a'^'k^^- i ''"v> , ^ 
 
 f ^ C»- THc '"'^ """ 
 
242 APPENDIX 
 
 Arithmetic, Geometry, Astronomy, Music, Philoso- 
 phy, besides many others. He wrote a treatise in 
 nine books, called Disdplinarnm Libri. Ritschl, in 
 his Qumstiones Varronianoe,^ tried to show that these 
 "Disciplinse" were the Seven Liberal Arts, plus Archi- 
 tecture and Medicine, and Mommsen, in his Roman 
 History, has followed him ; but Kitschl himself later 
 changed his opinion. There seems no doubt that 
 
 (1) Grammar, (2) Khetoric, (3) Dialectic, (4) Music, 
 (5) Geometry, and (6) Architecture were treated in 
 the work: what the rest were we can only guess.^ 
 There is no ground for the assertion that the Seven 
 Liberal Arts were obtained by dropping Architecture 
 and Medicine from Yarro's list. It must have been 
 about the time of Varro, if not earlier, that Koman 
 education came to be divided into three grades, called 
 respectively (1) Grammar, (2) Rhetoric, and (3) Phi- 
 losophy, the last falling to the lot of but few persons. 
 Of course "Grammar" now came to have a very ex- 
 tensive 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) Medi- 
 cine, (6) Grammar, (7) Rhetoric.^ 
 
 But to return to the Greeks. In the works of Philo 
 Judaeus, 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) Grammer, (2) Geometry, 
 
 (3) Music, (4) Rhetoric {De Cherub., § 30) ; in another 
 
 1 Bonn, 1845. . 
 
 2 See Boissier, Etude sur la Vie et les Ouvrages de M. T. Varron, 
 pp. 332. sqq. 
 
 3 See Bekker's Anecdota Grssca, ii., 655. 
 
 i 
 
THE SEVEN LIBERAL ARTS 243 
 
 (1) Grammer, (2) Geometry, (3) " the entire music of 
 encyclic instruction " (De AgriculL, § 4) ; in another 
 (1) Grammar, (2) Music, (3) Geometry, (4) Rhetoric, 
 (5) Dialectic (Be Congressu Quce7\ Erud. Orat, § 5); 
 in another, (1) Grammar, (2) Arithmetic, (3) Geome- 
 try, (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. Qb) giving the 
 liberal arts, Uheralia 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 honum est mentis 
 hiimance'^ {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, Geome- 
 try, and Astronomy. 
 
 Turning to the Greeks, we find Sextus Empiricus, 
 who seems to have flourished in Athens and Alexan- 
 dria toward the end of the second century, writing a 
 great work against the dogmatists or "mathemati- 
 cians," 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 sci- 
 ences, (1) Logic, (2) Physics, (3) Ethics. We are now 
 
244 APPENDIX 
 
 not far from the Seven Liberal Arts ; still we have not 
 reached them. 1 
 
 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 Hetrac- . 
 tiones, written about 425, he tells us (I, 6) that in his j 
 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 jive disciplines, (3) Dia- 
 lectic, (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 au- 
 thor does not say ^^tlie other five disciplines," but 
 merely " other five." Among these five, moreover, is 
 named Philosophy, which, though certainly a "disci- 
 pline," was never, so far as I can discover, called an art, 
 liberal or otherwise. There is not the smallest reaso^ 
 for tracing back the Seven Liberal Arts to St. Augus- 
 tine, 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 Mar- 
 tianus 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 cur- 
 riculum had supplanted the Roman rhetorical one. 
 There is not the slightest ground for supposing that 
 Capella had anything to do with fixing the curricu- 
 lum 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. 
 
THE SEVEN LIBERAL ARTS 245 
 
 Attention was first called to the number of the arts, 
 and a mystical meaning attached to it, by the Chris- 
 tian senator, Cassiodorus (480-575) in his De Artihiis 
 et Disciplinis Liheralium 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 corre- 
 spond 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 Etymologm, 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 Liherales Artes is said to 
 occur for the first time. About the same date Theo- 
 dulfus wrote his allegorical poem De Septem Liberor 
 libus in quadam Pictura Descriptis} 
 
 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.^ After a 
 time Philosophy came to be an all-embracing term. 
 In a commentary on the Timceus of Plato, assigned 
 by Cousin to the twelfth century, we find the follow- 
 ing scheme : — 
 
 1 1 am indebted for a number of these facts to an article by Pro- 
 fessor A. F. West, in the Princeton College Bulletin, November, 181X). 
 
 2 These terms, which we still find in Isidore and Hrabanus Mau- 
 rus, 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." 
 
246 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Philosophy 
 
 r Ethics. 
 Practical -I Economics. 
 1 Politics. 
 
 Theoretical 
 
 Theology. 
 
 Mathe- 
 matics 
 
 Physics. 
 
 Arithmetic ^ 
 
 Geometry =Qnadrivium. 
 Astronomy J 
 
 The author expressly says that " Mathematica quad- 
 rivium contiDet " ; but he plainly does not include the 
 Trivium under Philosophy. This, however, was done 
 in the following century. In the Itinerarium Mentis 
 in Deinn of St. Bonaventura (1221-74) we find the 
 following arrangements : — 
 
 PHIIiOSOPHY 
 
 Natural 
 
 'Metaphysics — essence: leads to First 
 
 Principle = Father. 
 Mathematics — numbers, figures: leads 
 
 to Image = Son. 
 Physics — natures, powers, diffusions : 
 
 leads to Gift of Holy Spirit. 
 
 C Grammar— power of expression = Fa- 
 I ther. 
 Rational \ Logic — perspicuity in argument = Son. 
 Rhetoric — skill in persuading = Holy 
 i Spirit. 
 
 (Monastics — innascibility of Father. 
 CEconomics — familiarity of Son. 
 Politics — liberality of Holy Spirit. 
 
 Here we have the Trivium, under the division " Ra- 
 tional," while the Quadrivium must still be included 
 under "Mathematics." In both cases we get nine 
 sciences or disciplines, and the number was appar- 
 ently 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." 
 
THE SEVEN LIBERAL ARTS 
 
 247 
 
 Dante, in his Convivio (II, 14, 15), gives the follow- 
 ing scheme, based upon the "ten heavens," nine of 
 which are moved by angels or intelligences, while the 
 last rests in God. 
 
 Liberal Arts- 
 
 Philosophy 
 
 (Grammar . . Moon .... Angels. 
 Dialectic. . .Mercury .Archangels. 
 Rhetoric . . .Venus Thrones. 
 
 {Arithmetic. Sun Dominions. 
 Music Mars Virtues. 
 Geometry. .Jupiter. . .Principalities. 
 Astrology. .Saturn . . .Powers. 
 
 Metaphysics } ^^^^^ Heaven Cherubim. 
 
 Moral Science, j ^^^® Heaven I Seraphim.i 
 
 Theology Empyrean God. 
 
 In Dante are summed up the ancient and mediaeval 
 systems of education. 
 
 1 In the XXVIIIth Canto of the Paradise, these angelic powers 
 are arranged somewhat differently, in deference to Dionysius Are- 
 opagita and St. Bernard. 
 
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 (col- 
 lected by Mullach, in his Fragmenta Philosophorum Grcecortim, 
 Paris, Didot, 1860-81, 3 vols. 4to), and the comedies of Aris- 
 tophanes, especially the Clouds. For the second part of the 
 same period, that of the "New Education," the chief author- 
 ities are the tragedies of Euripides, the Clouds of Aristophanes, 
 the dialogues of Plato, especially the Protagoras, Lysis, Bepub- 
 lic, and Laws, and the Cyropcedia, (Economics, and Constitution 
 of Lacedcemon 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 edu- 
 cation. Some information may also be gleaned from the 
 recently discovered Constitution_of.AtJims. 
 
 For the Hellenistic PenodV our information is derived chiefly 
 from inscriptions, from the vmtings of Philo Judaeus, Sextus 
 Empiricus, Plutarch {On the Nurture of Children), -^lian {Mis- 
 
 249 
 
250 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 cellanies), Lucian (Anacharsis chiefly), Stobaeus, Plotinus, Varro, 
 Cicero, Seneca, Qaintilian (Education of the Orator), Martianus 
 Capella {Nuptials of Mercury and Philology), and Cassiodorus, 
 and from stray notices in other poets, historians, and phi- 
 losophers. 
 
 Of the works referred to, these deserve special mention : — 
 
 1. Aristophanes, Clouds. Translations by John Ilookham 
 
 Frere, Thomas Mitchell, and W. J. Hickie (in Bohn's 
 Library). 
 
 2. Xenophon, Cyropcedia. Translation, in Whole Works trans- 
 
 lated by Ashley Cooper and Others, Philadelphia, 1842, and 
 by J. S. Watson and H. Dale (in Bohn's Library). 
 
 3. Plato, Bepuhlic. Translations by J. LI. 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. Bm-ges 
 
 (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, cor- 
 rected and revised by W. W. Goodwin, Boston, 1878. 
 
 7. Quintilian, Education of an Orator. Translation by J. S. 
 
 Wat is no (in Bohn's Library). 
 
 2. MODERN WORKS 
 
 These are very numerous ; but the most comprehensive is 
 Lorenz Grasberger's Erziehung und Unterricht irn klassischen 
 Alterthum, mit hesonderer Bucksicht auf die Bedurfnisse der 
 Gegenwart, Wiirzburg, 1864-81, 3 vols. The first volume deals 
 with the physical training of boys, the second with their intel- 
 lectual training, and the third with the education imparted by 
 the State to young men {e<pr]^oi). A volume of plates is 
 promised. The work is badly constructed, but is a mine of 
 information and of references. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 261 
 
 Along with this may be named O. H. Jager, Die Gymnastik 
 der Ilellenen, in ihrem Einfluss aiifs gesammte AUerthnm und 
 ihrer Bedeutung fur die deutsche Gegenwai% Esslingen, 1850 ; 
 Fournier, Sur V Education et V Instruction Puhliques chez les 
 Grecs, Berlin, 1833 ; Becq de Fouqui&re, Les Jeux des yi«cie?i», 
 Paris, 1869 ; De Pauw, Becherches Philosojphiques sur les Grecs ; 
 Fr. Jacobs, JJeher die Erziehung der Hellenen zur Sittlichkeit, 
 Vermischte Schr. Pt. III. ; Albert Dumont, Essai sur VEpJiebie 
 Attique, Paris, 1875-6 ; Dittenberger, De Ephebis Atticis ; Chr. 
 Petersen, Das Gymnasium der Gnechen nach seiner baulichen 
 Einrichtung beschrieben, Hamburg, 1858 ; Alexander Kapp, 
 Platon^s Erziehungslehre^ Minden, 1833, and Aristotle^ s Staats- 
 pcedagogik, Hamm, 1837 ; J. H. Krause, Geschichte der Er- 
 ziehung des Unterrichts und der Bildung bei den Griechen, 
 Etruskern und Bomern, Halle, 1851. 
 
 Chapters on Greek Education may be found in W. A. Becker's 
 Charicles and G alius ; in Guhl and Koner's Life of the Greeks 
 and Bomans — all three translated into English. In Hellenica 
 is an essay, by R. S. Nettleship, on the Theory of Education in 
 the Bepublic 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). 
 
INDEX 
 
 Academics, 112, 210. 
 
 Academy, 86, 112. 
 
 Achilles, 6. 
 
 ^olian Education, 38 sqq. 
 
 -^clians, 35. 
 
 ■/Eschylus, 104 sqq, 
 
 ^Bop's Fables, 146, 223, 
 
 'Airas, 47. 
 
 Alexander the Great, 40, 156 sq., 178. 
 
 Alexandria, 211. 
 
 Ammonius Saccas, 225, 227. 
 
 Amphidroraia, 65. 
 
 Arayntas, 156. 
 
 Anaxagoras, 24, 99 sq. 
 
 Antisthenes, 112. 
 
 Apoxyoraenos, 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 Ed- 
 ucation, 199. V^ 
 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. 
 
 Barbarians vs. Greeks, 12. 
 
 Bodily Training, 77. 
 
 Branches of Greek Education, 6. 
 
 Caesar, 217. 
 
 Cato Major, 216. 
 
 Chaeronea, 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. 
 
 Clistheues, 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 fferen- 
 
 nium), 217. 
 Cretan Education, 42. 
 Culture-State, 90, 175. 
 Cynosarges (Gymnasium), 86, 112. 
 Cyrus, his Education, 115 sqq. 
 
 Dancing, 82 sqq. 
 Democracy in Athens, 92, 99. 
 Diagoge (fiiaywy^), 33, 178. 
 
 253 
 
264 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Dionysiac Chorus, 85. 
 Dipoenis and Scyllls, 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. 
 Eto-JTj'^Aas (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, bl 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. 
 
 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. 
 Hermsea, 79, 85. 
 Hermias, 155. 
 Hesiod, 22. 
 Hetaerae, 132. 
 Holidays, 85. 
 Homeric Education, 6, 17. 
 
 " Society and Kings, 16. 
 " Poems collected, 35. 
 Homeridae, 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. 
 
 Javelin-casting, 81. 
 Jumping, 80. 
 Justinian, 211. 
 
 Kalokagathia, 8, 12, 15, 86. 
 Katharsis (purgation), 7, 76, 
 Kindergarten, 66, 145. 
 Kingdom of Heaven, 234. 
 " Know Thyself," 108. 
 
 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. 
 
INDEX 
 
 255 
 
 Life the Original School, 6. 
 Literary Education, 72. 
 Love, as a Power in Life, 234. 
 Lyceum, 105, 171. 
 Lycurgufl, 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 
 
 Nymphseum at Stagira, 156. 
 Neoplatonism, 212, 227. 
 
 (Economy, 13. 
 Olympic Games, 78. 
 
 riaifiovo/uioi, 46, 185, 187. 
 
 Palaestra, 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. 
 Phlditia, 44. 
 Philolaus, 39. 
 Philosophy, Rise of, 22. 
 
 Philosophy and Individualism, 
 
 93 sqq. 
 Physical Culture, 189. 
 Physiciano in Homer, 17. 
 Pindar, 39. 
 
 Pisistratus, 35, 98, 178. 
 Plato, 29, 112, 133 sqq., 134, 136, 137, 
 
 142. 
 Play, 66, 181 sqq. 
 PlotinuB, 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. 
 
 Quad rivi urn, 144, 198. 
 Quintilian, 29, 214 sqq. 
 
 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. 
 SocratcH, 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. 
 
256 
 
 Index 
 
 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 ^lius Praeconinus, 
 
 217. 
 Stoics, 210. 
 Supercivic Man, 136, 234. 
 
 Theban Education, 28. 
 Themistes, 17. 
 Theories of Education, 28. 
 Therapeuts, 212. 
 Thomas Aquinas, 165. 
 Thucyd ides' 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 Paean to, 4. 
 
 Wrestling, 81 sqq. 
 
 Writing, 75. 
 
 X 
 
 Xenophon, 29, 113, 114 sqq. 
 
 " Memoirs of Socrates, 
 
 123. 
 •• (Economics, 124. 
 " on Female Education, 
 
 124 sqq. 
 
 1 
 
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