Plato and the Older Academy, Part I.

By Eduard G. Zeller


This Translation of Dr. Zeller’s Plato und die ältere Akademie Section 2, Part 2, Vol. II. of his Philosophie der Griechen has been made from the third and enlarged edition of that work, an earlier portion of which (Sokrates und die Sokratiker) has already appeared in English in the translation of Dr. Reichel.

The text has been translated by Miss Alleyne, who desires to express her grateful acknowledgments to Dr. Zeller for his courteous approval of the undertaking. For the notes, and for the revision of the whole, Mr. Goodwin is responsible.

The references in the notes require some explanation: Simple figures, with or without supra or infra, indicate the pages and notes of the English translation. Vol. I. means the first (German) volume of the Philosophie der Griechen, and Part I. the Erste Abtheilung of the second volume.

Of the value of Dr. Zeller’s work in the original, it is unnecessary to speak. Professor Jowett has recently borne ample and honourable testimony to it in the preface to the second edition of his Plato. It is hoped that the present translation may be of use to some students of Plato who are perhaps less familiar with German than Greek.

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Chapter I. Plato’s Life

There is hardly another philosopher of antiquity with whose life we are so intimately acquainted as with Plato’s; yet even in his case, tradition is often uncertain and still more often incomplete.1 Born some years |2| after the commencement of the Peloponnesian war,2 |3| the son of an ancient aristocratic house,3 favoured |4| also by wealth,4 no less than birth, he must have found in his education and surroundings abundant intellectual |5| food; and even without the express testimony of history,5 we might conclude that he profited by these |6| advantages to the fullest expansion of his brilliant genius. Among the few further particulars that have descended to us respecting his earlier years,6 our attention |7| is principally drawn to three points, important in their influence on his mental development.

Of these we may notice first the general condition of his country, and the political position of his family.

Plato’s youth coincided with that unhappy period succeeding the Sicilian defeat when all the faults of the previous Athenian government were so terribly avenged, all the disadvantages of unlimited democracy so nakedly exposed, all the pernicious results of the self-seeking ethics and sophistical culture of the time so unreservedly displayed. He himself belonged to a social class and to a family which regarded the existing constitution with undisguised, and not always groundless discontent. Several of his nearest relations were among the spokesmen of the aristocratic party.7 But when that party had itself been raised to power by the common enemy, on the ruins of Athenian greatness, it so misused its strength that the eyes of its blindest adherents were inevitably opened. It is easy to see how a noble, high-minded youth, in the midst of such experiences and influences, might be disgusted, not only with democracy, but with existing State systems in general, and take refuge in political Utopias, which would further tend to draw off his mind from the actual towards the ideal.

Again, there were other circumstances simultaneously working in the same direction. We know that Plato in his youth occupied himself with poetical |8| attempts,8 and the artistic ability already evinced by some of his earliest writings,9 coupled with the poetical character of his whole system, would lead us to suppose that these studies went far beyond the superficiality of a fashionable pursuit.10 There is, therefore, little reason to doubt (however untrustworthy may be our more precise information on the subject11) that he was intimate! with the great poets of his country.

Lastly, he had, even before his acquaintance with |9| Socrates, turned his attention to philosophy, and through Cratylus the Heraclitean12 had become acquainted with a doctrine which, in combination with other elements, essentially contributed to his later system.13

All these influences, however, appear as of little importance by the side of Plato’s acquaintance with Socrates. We cannot, of course, say what direction his mind might have taken without this teacher, but the question may well remain unanswered. We know enough to prove from all historical traces that the deepest, most lasting, most decisive impression was produced by the philosophic reformer on his congenial disciple. Plato himself is said to have esteemed it as the highest of Fortune’s favours, that he should have been born in the lifetime of Socrates,14 and later tradition has adorned with a significant myth15 the first |10| meeting of the two men. But apart from this, the fact must always be regarded as one of those remarkable contingencies which are too important in their bearing on the course of history to be severed from it in our thought. During a long16 and confidential intercourse,17 Plato penetrated so deeply into the spirit of his distinguished friend that the portrait of that spirit which he was able to bequeath to us is at once the most faithful and the most ideal that we possess. Whether at that time he directed his attention to other teachers of philosophy, and if so, to what extent, we do not know;18 but it is scarcely credible that a youth so |11| highly educated, and so eager for knowledge — whose first impulse, moreover, towards philosophy had not come from Socrates — should have made no attempt until his thirtieth year to inform himself as to the achievements of the earlier philosophers, should have learned nothing from his friend Euclid about the Eleatics, nor from Simmias and Cebes about Philolaus: that he should have enquired no further respecting the doctrines continually brought to the surface by the public lectures and disputations of the Sophists, and left unread the writings of Anaxagoras, so easily to be obtained in Athens.19 It is nevertheless probable that the overpowering influence of the Socratic teaching may have temporarily weakened his interest in the earlier natural philosophies, and that close and repeated study may afterwards have given him a deeper insight into their doctrines. Similarly, his own imaginative nature, under the restraining influence of his master’s dialectic, was probably habituated to severer thought and more cautious investigation; perhaps, indeed, his idealistic tendencies received at first an absolute check; |12| and conceptual science, together with the art of forming concepts, was only to be attained by him — a stranger like his contemporaries to all such things — through the dry prosaic method of the Socratic enquiry.20 But Plato needed this schooling to give him the repose and certainty of the scientific method — to develop him from a poet into a philosopher; nor did he in the process permanently lose anything for which his natural temperament designed him. Socrates conceptual philosophy had given him a glance into a new world, and he forthwith set out to explore it.

The tragic end of his aged master, a consummation which he seems at the outset to have thought wholly impossible,21 must have been a fearful blow to Plato; and one consequence of this shock, which still seems long years afterwards to vibrate so sensibly in the thrilling description of the Phaedo, may have been perhaps the illness which prevented the faithful disciple from attending his master at the last.22 We are, |13| however, more immediately concerned with the enquiry as to the effect of the fate of Socrates on Plato’s philosophic development and view of the world; and if for this enquiry we are thrown upon conjectures, these are not entirely devoid of probability. On the one hand, for example, we shall find no difficulty in understanding how his reverence for his departed teacher was immeasurably increased by the destiny which overtook him, and the magnanimity with which he yielded to it; how the martyr of philosophy, faithful unto death, became idealized in his heart and memory as the very type of the true philosopher; how principles tested by this fiery ordeal received in his eyes the consecration of a higher truth; how at once his judgment on the men and circumstances concerned in the sacrifice of Socrates grew harder,23 and his hope as to any political efficiency in those circumstances fainter;24 nay, how the general tendency was fostered in him to contemplate reality in a gloomy light, and to escape from the ills of the present life into a higher, supersensuous world. On the other hand, it may perhaps have been better for his scientific growth that his connection with Socrates |14| lasted no longer than it did. During the years of their intercourse he had made his teacher’s spirit his own, in completer fullness than was possible to any of his fellow students; it was now for him to perfect the Socratic science by the addition of new elements, and to fit himself by the utmost expansion in many directions for erecting it on an independent basis: his apprenticeship (Lehrjahre) was over, his travelling time (Wanderjahre) was come.25

After the death of Socrates, Plato, with others of his pupils, first betook himself to Megara, where a circle of congenial minds had gathered round Euclid.26 |15| He afterwards undertook27 journeys which led him to Egypt, Cyrene, Magna Graecia, and Sicily.28 Owing to |16| the meagreness, and sometimes the contradictoriness of the traditions,29 it is impossible to ascertain with certainty |17| how long lie continued in Megara, when he commenced his travels, whether they immediately succeeded the Megaric sojourn, or a return to Athens intervened; whether his stay in Athens was long or short; and whether he had or had not become a teacher of philosophy before his departure. But if he really returned from Sicily only ten or twelve years after the death of Socrates,30 there is great probability, and even some |18| external evidence,31 that long before his journey he had |19| settled in Athens,32 and there worked as teacher and author; even granting that at this period his instructions were confined to a select few, and that the opening of his school in the Academy took place later on.33 What, in this case, we are to think about the journey to Egypt and Cyrene — whether the visit to Sicily was immediately connected with it, or whether34 Plato first returned to Athens from Egypt, and only undertook the Italian journey after an interval of some years, cannot be certainly determined, but there is a good deal favour of the latter alternative.35 |20|

If, indeed, Plato had already attained to manhood when he visited the countries of the south and west; had already, that is, before his personal acquaintance with the Italian Pythagoreans, found the scientific bases of his system, and laid them down in writings,36 these journeys cannot have had the striking effect on his philosophical development which is often ascribed to them in ancient and modern days. Besides the general enlargement of his views and knowledge of human nature, his chief gain from them seems to have consisted in a closer acquaintance with the Pythagorean school37 (whose principal written book he appears to have purchased),38 and in a deeper study of mathematics. |21| To this study, Theodorus is said to have introduced him,39 and we have at any rate no proof against the correctness of the statement.40 He may have received further mathematical instruction from Archytas and other Pythagoreans, so that we can scarcely be wrong in connecting with this journey his predilection for the science,41 and his remarkable knowledge of it:42 |22| while, on the contrary, the stories about the mathematical lore, priestly mysteries, and political ideas which he is stated to have acquired in Egypt,43 are in the |23| highest degree improbable.44 In Sicily, Plato visited |24| the court of Dionysius the elder.45 But in spite of his close intimacy with Dion,46 he gave great offence there by his plain speaking,47 and the tyrant in wrath delivered up the troublesome moraliser to the Spartan ambassador Pollis, by whom he was exposed for sale in the slave-market of Aegina. Ransomed by Anniceris, a Cyrenian, he thence returned to his native city.48 |25|

Plato seems now to have made his first formal appearance as a teacher. Following the example of Socrates, who had sought out intelligent youths in the Gymnasia and other public places, he, too, first chose as the scene of his labours a gymnasium, the Academy, whence, however, he subsequently withdrew into his own garden, which was adjacent.49 Concerning his |26| manner of instruction tradition tells us nothing;50 if we consider how decidedly he expresses himself against the rhetoricians who made long speeches, but knew neither how to ask questions nor how to answer them;51 and how low, on the same ground, was his estimation of written exposition, open to every misunderstanding and abuse, — in comparison with the living personal agency of conversation,52 — if we mark the fact that in his own works, the development of thought by dialogue is a law, from which in his long literary career he allowed himself not a single noteworthy departure, — we can scarcely doubt that in his oral teaching he remained true to these main principles.

On the other hand, however, we hear of a discourse on the Good, published by Aristotle53 and some of his fellow pupils, and belonging to Plato’s later years. Aristotle himself mentions discourses on Philosophy;54 and that these were not conversations, but in their general character at any rate continuous discourses, is witnessed partly by express testimony,55 partly by their internal evidence, which can be taken in no other way. |27| Also, there are many portions of the Platonic system which from their nature could not well be imparted conversationally. It is most probable, therefore, that Plato, according to circumstances, made use of both forms; while the supposition must be admitted that as in his writings, so in his verbal instruction, question and answer gave place to unbroken exposition, in proportion, partly to the diminished vivacity of increasing years, partly to the necessary advance in his teaching, from preparatory enquiries to the dogmatic statement of his doctrine in detail.

That, side by side with the communications intended for the narrower circle of his friends, he should have given other discourses designed for the general public, is not likely.56 It is more credible that he may have brought his writings into connection with his spoken instruction, and imparted them to his scholars by way of stimulus to their memories.57 On this point, however, we are |28| entirely without information.58 Plato doubtless combined with intellectual intercourse that friendly life-in-common to which he himself had been accustomed in the Socratic circle and the Pythagorean Society. With a philosopher so little able to separate philosophic from moral endeavour, it might be expected that community of knowledge would naturally grow into community of life. In this way he appears to have joined his scholars at stated intervals in social repasts.59 There can be no doubt, from what we know of his sentiments on the subject,60 that his instructions were altogether gratuitous; and if, on certain occasions, he accepted presents from some of his rich friends,61 there is no reason |29| to conclude that such voluntary offerings were therefore customary among his disciples in the Academy.

Plato’s sphere of work seemed to him to be limited to this intellectual and educational activity, more and more, as experience deepened his conviction that in the then state of Athens, no diplomatic career was compatible with the principles he held.62 The desire, however, that it might be otherwise was none the less strong in him;63 and that he had not abandoned the hope of somehow and somewhere gratifying this desire is proved by his two great political works, which are designed not merely to set forth theoretical ideals, but at the same time to exert a regulative influence on actual conditions. Consequently though he, as little as his great master, himself wished to be a statesman, both may |30| certainly be credited with the aim of forming statesmen;64 and if he repudiated political activity in |31| circumstances which he considered hopeless,65 there was, at the same time, nothing in his principles to keep him |32| back from it, should there arise a favourable opportunity for the realization of his ideas.66 Such an opportunity seemed to offer after the death of the elder Dionysius,67 when Dion, and, at his instigation, Dionysius the younger, invited him pressingly to Syracuse.68 |33| Could this potentate indeed be won over to Philosophy and to Plato’s political beliefs — (and of this Plato, or at any rate Dion, appears certainly to have indulged a hope),69 the most important results might be expected to follow, not only in his own kingdom, but in all Sicily and Magna Graecia, indeed throughout the Hellenic states. Meanwhile the event proved, only too soon, how insufficiently this hope was founded. When Plato arrived in Syracuse, the young Prince received him most politely, and at first showed lively interest in the philosopher and his endeavours;70 but he very shortly became weary of these serious conversations, and when his jealousy of Dion, which was not entirely groundless, had led to an open rupture with that statesman, and at length to the banishment of the latter, Plato must have been glad to escape from the painful position in which he found himself, by a second return home.71 Nevertheless, after some years, at the renewed |34| solicitations of the tyrant and entreaties of his friends, he resolved upon yet another voyage to Sicily. His immediate aim was doubtless to attempt a reconciliation between Dion and Dionysius;72 to this may have linked themselves more distantly, new political hopes: the undertaking, however, turned out so unfortunately that Plato was even in considerable danger from the mistrust of the passionate prince,73 and only evaded it by the intervention of the Pythagoreans, who were then at the head of the Tarentine state. Whether, after his return,74 he approved of Dion’s hostile aggression on Dionysius, we do not know;75 but for his own part, from |35| this time, having now attained his seventieth year, he seems to have renounced all active interference with politics.76 The activity of his intellect, however, continued amidst the reverence of countrymen and foreigners,77 unabated till his death,78 which, after a happy and peaceful old age,79 is said to have overtaken him at a wedding feast.80 |36|

Even in antiquity, the character of Plato was the subject of many calumnies.81a The jests of the comic poets which have come down to us82 are indeed harmless enough, and concern the philosopher more than the man; but there are other reproaches, for the silencing of which Seneca’s apology83 that the life of a philosopher can never entirely correspond with his doctrine, is scarcely sufficient. On the one hand, he is accused of connections, which, if proved, would forever throw a shadow on his memory;84 on the other of unfriendly, and even of hostile behaviour towards several of his fellow disciples.85 He has |37| also been charged with censoriousness and self-love;86 not to mention the seditions behaviour after the death of Socrates which scandal has laid to his account.87 His relation with the Syracusan court was early88 made the handle for divers accusations, such as love of pleasure,89avarice,90 flattery of tyrants;91a and his political character |38| has especially suffered at the hands of those who were themselves unable to grasp his ideas.92 Lastly, if we are to believe his accusers, he not only, as an author, allowed himself numerous false assertions93a respecting his predecessors, but also such indiscriminate quotation from their works, that a considerable portion of his own writings can be nothing more than a robbery from them.94 All these complaints, however, so far as we are |39| in a position to test them, appear so unfounded that scarcely a fraction of them will stand the process of investigation;95 and the rest are supported by such weak evidence, that they ought not to affect that reverence for the character of the philosopher which is certain to ensue from the perusal of his works. So far as a man may be judged by what he has written, only the very highest opinion can be formed of the personality of Plato. To appreciate him correctly, however, he must be measured by a standard that takes account of his natural disposition and historical place. Plato was a Greek, and he was proud of being one. He belonged to a rank and to a family, the prejudices as well as the advantages of which he was content to share. He lived at a time when Greece had touched the highest point of her national life, and was steadily declining from political greatness. His nature was ideal, adapted rather to artistic creation and scientific research than to practical action; which tendency, nourished and confirmed by the whole course of his life, and the strong influence of the Socratic School, could not fail to be still further strengthened by his own political experiences. From such a temperament and such influences might be evolved all the virtues of |40| a man and a philosopher, but nought of the grandeur of a politician. Plato might desire the very best for his country, and be ready to sacrifice for her sake everything except his convictions: but that he should have thrown himself into the turmoil of political life, for which he was quite unfitted, — that he should have lavished his soul’s strength in propping up a constitution, the foundations of which he thought rotten,96 — that he should have used means that he felt to be useless to stem the torrent of opposing fate, — that he, like Demosthenes, should have led the forlorn hope among the ruins of Grecian freedom, — would be too much to expect. His province was to examine into State problems and the conditions of their solution; their practical realization he abandoned to others. Thus inner disposition and outward circumstances alike designed him for philosophy rather than statecraft. But even his philosophy had to be pursued differently from that of Socrates, nor could his habits of life exactly resemble his master’s. He desired to be true in the main to the Socratic pattern, and by no means to return to the mode of teaching adopted by the Sophists.97 But aiming as he did at the formation and propagation of a comprehensive system, — aphoristic conversation, conditioned by a hundred accidental circumstances, was not enough for him; he wanted more extensive machinery, |41| at skilled labour, intellectual quiet; he wanted hearers who would follow his enquiries in their entire connection, and devote to them their whole time; his philosophy was forced to withdraw itself from street and market, within the precincts of a school.98

Here already were many deviations from the Socratic way of life; many more sprang from Plato’s own habits and inclinations, which were generally opposed to it. Simplicity and temperance were indeed required by his principles,99 and are expressly ascribed to him;100 but the entire freedom from wants and possessions to which Socrates attained, would not have suited a man of his education and circumstances. Himself full of artistic taste, he could not deny all worth to life’s external adornments;101 extending his scientific research unreservedly to all reality, he could hardly, in ordinary life, be so indifferent to the outward, as they who, like Socrates, were satisfied with moral introspection. Socrates, in spite of his anti-democratic politics, was, by nature, a thorough man of the people: Plato’s personality, like his philosophy, bears a more aristocratic |42| stamp. He loves to shut himself up in his own circle, to ward off what is vulgar and disturbing; his interest and solicitude are not for all without distinction, but only or chiefly for the elect who are capable of sharing his culture, his knowledge, his view of life. The aristocracy of intelligence on which his State rests has deep roots in the character of Plato. But precisely to this circumstance are owing the grandeur and completeness that make his character in its particular sphere unique. As Plato in his capacity of philosopher unites the boldest idealism with rare acuteness of thought, a disposition for abstract critical enquiry with the freshness of artistic creativeness; — so does he, as a man, combine severity of moral principles102 with lively susceptibility for beauty, nobility and loftiness of mind with tenderness of feeling, passion with self-control,103 enthusiasm for his purpose with philosophic calm, gravity with mildness,104 magnanimity with human kindliness,105 dignity106 with gentleness. He is great because he knew how to blend these apparently conflicting traits |43| into unity, to complement opposites by means of each other, to develop on all sides the exuberance of his powers and capabilities into a perfect harmony,107 without losing himself in their multiplicity. That moral beauty and soundness of the whole life, which Plato, as a true Greek, requires before all things,108 he was, if his nature be truly represented in his works. wrought to typical perfection in his own personality.109 Nor is the picture marred by incongruity of outward resemblance with inward reality, for his bodily strength and beauty have been especially recorded.110 But throughout, the most striking peculiarity of the philosopher is that close connection of his character with his scientific aims, which he owes to the Socratic school. The moral perfection of his life is rooted in the clearness of his understanding; it is the light of science which disperses the mists in his soul, and causes that Olympian civility which breathes so refreshingly from his works, in a word, Plato’s is an Apollo-like nature, and it is fitting testimony to the impression produced by |44| himself on his contemporaries, and by his writings of after generations, that many myths should have placed him, like Pythagoras, in the closest union with the god who, in the bright clearness of his spirit, was to the Greeks the very type of moral beauty, proportion, and harmony.111


1^ According to Simplicius, Phys. 268 a. m. Schol. 427 a. 15. De Caelo, 8 b. 16 sq. 41 b. 1 sq. Karst. (Schol. 470 a. 27, where, instead of Karsten’s reading βίῳ, should be read βίου, 474 a. 12.) Xenocrates had already written περὶ τοῦ Πλάτωνος βίου. Whether this means a special work or merely an incidental notice in connection with some other disquisition must remain undecided. (Steinhart. Plato’s Leben, 8. 260 sq. adopts the latter supposition on account of Diogenes’ silence as to any such work.) Speusippus apud Diogenem, iv. 5. Apuleius de Dogmate Platonis i. mentions an ἐγκώμιον Πλάτωνος (which must be identical with the περίδζιπνον Πλάτωνος ap. Diog. iii. 2, unless we suppose with Hermann and Steinhart, that the titles of the writings of Speusippus and Clearchus are confused: see respectively Plat. 97, 45, loc. cit. 7, 260). Finally we know of a treatise of Plato’s scholar Hermodorus, which gave information both about his life and his philosophy, and likewise of a work of Philippus of Opus περὶ Πλάτωνος (see Diog. ii. 106, iii. 6. Dercyllides ap. Simpl. Phys. 54 b. 56 b. Vol. Hercul. Coll. Alt. i. 162 sqq. Col. 6; cf. my Diatribe de Hermodoro, Marb. 1859, p. 18 sq. and for the latter Suidas s. v. Φιλόσοφος). But from these most ancient sources we have only a few notices preserved to us. Later writers, the greater part of whom are known to us only from Diogenes, are of very unequal value (a review of them is to be found in Steinhart, loc. cit. 13 sqq.); Diogenes himself is to be relied on only so far as he indicates his authorities; and this is equally true of the Προλεγόμενα (in Hermann’s edition of Plato, vi. 196 sqq.) and of the short biographies of Olympiodorus and the anonymous writer who for the most part simply copies these. Of the Platonic letters the 7th is the most important for the history of Plato’s life; still, it cannot be accepted as genuine, nor does it merit the unlimited confidence placed in it by Grote (Plato, i. 113 sqq.), who is actuated not so much by the interest of a true historian as by that of an advocate. The remaining Platonic letters are quite worthless as historical evidence. On the other hand, Plato’s genuine writings give but very few points from which we can derive any knowledge of his life. The minor accredited accounts are false and not seldom self-contradictory. The more recent literature bearing on Plato’s life is given by Ueberweg, Hist. of Phil. i. 39. Steinhart, loc. cit. 28 sq.

2^ A tradition in Diogenes Laertius, iii. 3, says that he was born at Aegina, in which island his father had received an allotment on its occupation by an Athenian colony, about 430 B.C. This statement is doubtful in itself, and is rendered more so by the obvious falsity of the succeeding statement, that he only returned to Athens after the Spartan expulsion of the colonists, B.C. 404. The date of Plato’s birth is uncertain. Apollodorus, according to Diog. iii. 2 sq., assigned it to the 88th Olympiad (i.e. Olympiad 88, i.), B.C. 427, on the 7th of Thargelion (May 21) (on the reduction to our months cf. Ueberweg, Exam, of the Platonic Writings Steinhart, loc. cit, 284); and this, according to Plutarch, Quaestiones Convivales 8, 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, and Apuleius, De Dogm. Plat. 1, was really kept as his birthday. With this Hermodorus (ap. Diog. C) agrees, when he says that Plato was 28 years old when he went to Megara, i.e. directly after Socrates death, vide p. 14, 26, supra. On the other hand, Athenians, v. 217 a. says that he was born in the archonship of Apollodorus, Ol. 87, 3 (B.C. 429), and with this we may connect Diogenes statement, loc. cit., that the year of Plato’s birth was that of Pericles death, if (as Hermann, History and System of the Platonic Philosophy, i. 85, A 9, points out) we assume that Diogenes follows Roman reckoning. Pericles died two and a half years after the outbreak of the Peloponnesian war, in the autumn of B.C. 429 (Ol. 87, 4), in the archonship of Epameinon. The statement in the pseudo-Plutarch (Vita Isocratis 2, p. 836), that Isocrates was seven years older than Plato, points to the same date. Isocrates was born Ol. 86, 1 (436 B.C.); vide loc. cit. and Diog. iii. 2; Dionysius, Judicium de Isocrate, init. Diogenes himself, in assigning Plato’s birth to the archonship of Epameinon, and accordingly making him only six years younger than Isocrates, is going on a false reckoning, exclusive of the year of Pericles death. It may be observed that Diogenes, or our present text of him, has ἐπ’ Αμεινίον instead of ἐπ’ Έπαμείνωνος; and in connection with this is the assertion of the Προλεγόμενα τῆς Πλάτωνος Φιλόσοφίας, C. 2 (Plato, cd. Herm. vi. 197. Diog. Laert. ed. Cobet, appendix, p. 6), that Plato was born while Pericles was still alive, in the archonship of Ameinias, Ol. 88. This introduces mere confusion; and Eusebius, in his Chronicon, followed by the Paschal Chronicle, in dating his birth Ol. 89 i., has only given an instance of his own carelessness.
   As to the year of Plato’s death, tradition is more consistent. Apollodorus apud Diog. v. 9, Dionysius Halicaraassiensis Ad Ammaeum, 5, and Athenaeus v. 217 b, agree in assigning it to the archonship of Theophilus, Ol. 108, i. The accounts of his age, however, again present a great discrepancy. Hermippus apud Diog. iii. 2 (with whom are Lucian, Macrobii 20, Augustine, De Civitate Dei viii. 11, Censorious, De Die Natali, 15, 1, and the Prolegomena C. 6) says he was 81. Seneca states even more definitely (epistle 58, 31), that he died on his 82nd birthday; and it seems only an inexact expression of Cicero’s (De Senectute, 5, 13) that he died writing in his 81st year, with which we may compare what Dionysius says (De Compositione Verborum, p. 208), that he had been constantly polishing his works up to his 80th year.
   On the other hand, Athenaeus loc. cit., and Valerius Maximus viii. 7, 3, make him 82; Neanthes apud Diog. loc. cit., 84. This statement is highly improbable, as it would compel us to put back the birth of the philosopher to 431 or 432 B.C. However, the statement which allows him to attain 81 years would very well agree with the supposition that he was born B.C. 429, and died B.C. 348. But even if he was born B.C. 427 and died a short time after completing his 80th year, in one case his death falls under the archonship of Theophilus, in the other case in his 81st year. For this determination of the date we have the authority not only of the careful chronologist Apollodorus, but also that of Hermodorus, who, as a personal pupil of Plato, more than all other witnesses has the presumption on his side of being well informed on this point. (The opinions against his trustworthiness will be tested pp. 14, 26, note.) He may therefore be depended upon for the chronology of his own times (I here retract the opinion I formerly shared with earlier writers), and the most probable supposition is that Plato was born B.C. 427, and died 347 B.C., perhaps shortly before the middle of the year. This conclusion is favoured, amongst others by Grote, Plato i. 114; Ueberweg Hist. of Phil. i. 39; Examination of Plato’s writings, 113; and Steinhart loc. cit. 37, without absolutely rejecting the date 428 B.C. for his birth. To the latter supposition is of course opposed the fact that Plato, if his birthday actually fell on the 7th of Thargelion and consequently earlier than Socrates death, had already attained his 29th year at the time of the flight to Megara, and could not rightly be said by Hermodorus to have been only 28. That Plato’s nominal birthday might very possibly belong to the mythic traits of his Apolline character (as O. Müller, The Dorians, i. 330, conjectures; cf. Leutsch ap. Hermann, Plato 85 A. 7; Steinhart loc. cit. 39 sq.) has been already remarked p. 43. The whole question is specially treated by Corsini De die Natali Platonis (in Gorius’ Symbola Literaria vi. 97 sqq.) Cf. Fasti Attici iii. 229 sq.

3^ His father Aristo, according to Plutarch, De Amore Prolis 4, p. 496, died before Plato reached manhood. Beyond this, we know nothing of him; and of the grandfather, Aristocles, we only know that Plato himself bore his name, until it was superseded by the nick name Πλάτων given him by his gymnastic master on account of his powerful build. Cf. Alexander and Neanthes apud Diog. Iii. 4 — transcribed by Olympiodorus, Vita Platonis 2, and the Prolegomena, c. 1 — Seneca, ep. 58, 30; Sextus Empiricus adversus Mathematicos 1, 258; Apuleius, Dogm. Plat. 1, &c. Thrasylus, however, apud Diog. 1, and after him Apuleius, loc. cit., notice his father as a descendant of Codrus: Olympiodorus, c. 1, says, of Solon; but this is obviously an oversight. His mother, Perictione, as she is called by the great majority of the biographers while a few are said (Diog. 1) to have substituted Potone, the name of his sister, Speusippus’ mother (vide Diog. iii. 4, iv. 1) was a sister of Charmides (vide supra, p. 106, 1), and cousin of Critias, deriving her descent from Dropides, a friend and kinsman of Solon’s, and through him from Neleus, the ancestor of the last kings of Attica, vide Diog. 1, who, however, wrongly makes Dropides Solon’s brother. (In this he is followed by several writers, and is partly misunderstood by Olympiodorus, c. 1, and the Prolegomena, c. 1.) See also Apuleius, Dogm. Plat., init.; Plato, Charmides, 155 A, 157 E; Timaeus 20 D, and Ast. Life and Writings of Plato, 16 sq., together with Hermann. Plato 23 sq., 93, and Martin, Etudes sur le Timée, 1, 246. On the further question as to Plato’s brothers, and their relation to the Glaucon and Adeimantus of the Republic, and Parmenides, vide on one side Hermann, Allgemeine Schulzeitung for 1831, p. 653; his Plato, 24, 94; and his Disputatio de Republica Platonis tempore (Marburg, 1839), forming part of the Vindicias Platonics; and Steinhart, Works of Plato, 5, 48 sq.: on the other, Buckh’s Berlin Lectures for the summer of 1839; Munk, Die Natürliche Ordnung der Platonischen Schriften, page 63 seqq., 264 sq. (his arguments and conjectures are of very unequal merit). Susemihl, Genetische Entwicklung der Platonischen Philosophie 2, 76 sqq. The former authorities recognise, both in the Republic and the Parmenides, two older relations of Plato’s, his mother’s brothers, who are as little known to us as their father Aristo. The latter, following Plutarch and others, see in these characters Plato’s own brothers. On the grounds given in the Abhandl. d. Berl. Akad. v. J. 1873, Hist, Phil. Kl. S. 86, the latter supposition alone seems to me to be tenable. Whether in Repub. II, 368, A. Plato’s father is mentioned as still living at the supposed time of this dialogue (40 B.C.) cannot be made out with certainty; according to Apol. 34 A, 38 B, we must suppose that he did not live to see the trial of Socrates. Cf. Plut. de Amore Prolis 4, S. 496. Antiphon, a half-brother of Plato, and the son of Pyrilampes, appears in the introduction of the Parmenides, and (128 B) appears to be younger than the sons of Aristo (that this Antiphon was Plato’s half-brother, and not an older relation, has been shown by Böckh loc. cit.). However, the legends of Plato’s Apolline descent cannot be appealed to as evidence that he was the first child of his mother (vide supra, pp. 44, 111): according to Plato’s Apology 34 A. Adeimantus appears to be older.

4^ The later writers certainly re present Plato as a comparatively poor man: e.g. Gellius, Noctes Atticas iii. 17, 1 (according to tradition he was tenui admodum pecunia familiari); Damascius, Vita Isidori 158; πένης γὰρ ἧν ὁ Πλάτων; repeated by Suidas, voce Πλάτων, and Apuleius, Dogm. Plat. 4. The story in Plutarch, Solon c. 2 fin., of his getting the means to travel by selling oil in Aegypt, points the same way. Aelian, Variae Historiae 3, 27, says that he had heard a tale (which he doubts, in this place, though in 5. 9 he repeats the like about Aristotle without hesitation) of Plato’s having once been ready, under pressure of poverty, to serve as a mercenary soldier, when Socrates dissuaded him. (f. Hermann, Plato 77 sq., 98, 122. All these accounts, however, were no doubt invented by ascetic admirers or opponents of the philosopher in later times. Plato’s whole family belongs to the aristocratic party, who were generally the great land-holders; his uncle Charmides had been rich, and was only reduced to necessity by the Peloponnesian war (Xenophon, Symposium 4, 29 sqq.; Memorabilia iii. 6, 14), but that Plato’s parents were not involved in this calamity, we may see from the Memorabilia, loc. cit., where Socrates advises Glaucon, before he aims at the care of the whole state, to undertake that of an individual; for instance, of his uncle, who really needed it. Had his father and mother been poor, the example lay nearer to hand. Apart from this, none but the son of a rich family could have entertained the notion of pressing forward, before his twentieth year, to the leadership of public affairs. Again, Plato names himself (Apol. 38 B) as one of the four who offered to bail Socrates for 30 minae; so that he must have been a solvent person, ἐγγυητὴς ἀξιόχρεως. His journeys, too, are evidence of his being well oft; for the tale about the oil-selling does not look much like the philosopher who despised trade; if true at all, it can only mean that he took some of his own produce with him to Egypt instead of ready money. Finally, even though his choregia (Plutarch, Aristides 1, Dion 17; Diog. 3) as a freewill service, the cost of which was borne by Dion, be no proof of wealth, and the purchase of the writings of Philolaus (vide subter), involving great expense, be not quite well authenticated, or may have been effected with other people’s money, we still have sufficient evidence of his having been a man of some means, not only in his will, (in Diogenes 41 sq.), but also in what is told of his way of life and domestic management; vide Diog. 6, 25 sq. Hieronyinus adversus Jovinianum 2, 203, ed. Martianay, certainly establishes nothing.

5^ Apuleius, dogm. Plat. 2: nam Speusippus domesticis instructus documentis pueri ejus acre in percipiendo ingenium et admirandae verecundiae indolem laudat: et pubescentis primitias labore atque amore studendi imbutas refert: et in viro harum incrementa virtutum et ceterarum testatur. Cf. Hermann, Plato 97.

6^ To these belong specially the tales about his early education and teachers, heading and writing he is said to have learnt from the Dionysius who is immortalized in the Anterastae, gymnastic from Aristo of Argos, who brought him on so well that he entered the Isthmian games as a wrestler. (For his gymnastic, cf. after Dicaearchus, Diogenes 4; Servius on Aeneid 6, 668; Apul. c. 2; Olympiad. c. 2; Prolegomena, c. 2. Apuleius and Porphyry apud Cyrillum contra Julianum, 208 D, make him enter at the Pythian games as well; the Prolegomena remove the victory to the Isthmian and Olympic contests.) Music he learned under Draco, a pupil of Damon, and Metellus of Agrigentum (Plutarch, De Musica 17, 1; Olymp. and Proleg., loc. cit.; cf. Hermann, p. 99). How much of these accounts is historical cannot be determined, and is a matter of comparative indifference. That he repeatedly appeared and was vic torious in public contests is certainly not true; whether he even entered at the Isthmia may be doubted, for after his acquaintance with Socrates had begun he hardly ever took part in athletic struggles, and previous to that he was too young. (Hermann, p. 100, conjectures that the origin of the story may be traced in the Crito, 52 B.) The name of his writing master is probably derived from the Anterastae; and, similarly, the story in Diog. 5 (Apul. loc. cit.: Olymp. 2; Prolegg. 3), to the effect that he enjoyed instruction from artists, and thence acquired the knowledge of colour shown in the Timaeus, may be merely an arbitrary assumption based on that dialogue. The strange assertion of Aristoxenus apud Diog. 8 (cf. Aelian, Varia Historia 7. 14), that he took part in three campaigns, not only to Corinth (Olympiad 96), but to Delium (01. 89, 1), and Tanagra (Ol. 88, 3), and at Delium obtained the prize for valour, is doubtless modelled on the three campaigns of Socrates (vide supra, p. 50), whose words with reference to them (Apol. 28 D.) are put into Plato’s mouth in Diogenes 24.
  What we know of the state of Athens towards the end of the Peloponnesian war would certainly lead us to conclude that he must have seen some military service, and perhaps he also took part in that action at Megara (409 B.C., Diodorus xiii. 65), in which, according to his own statement in Rep. ii. 368 A., his brother distinguished himself.

7^ Critias, as is well known; Charmides, according to Xenophone, Memorab. 111, 7, 1, 3; Hellenica ii. 4, 19.).

8^ Diog. 5. He is said to have practised composition in verse, at first dithyrambs, and then songs and tragedies; and even to have conceived the idea of becoming a competitor in the tragic contests, when he became acquainted with Socrates, and, following his example, burnt his poems. So Olymp. 3, Prolog. 3. Aelian, Varia Historia ii. 30, gives a somewhat different account. According to him, Plato’s first essay was in epos; but seeing how far short his productions came of their Homeric model, he destroyed them (on this, however, cf. Hermann, Plato 100, 54), and next composed a tragic tetralogy, which was actually in the performers hands, when his acquaintance with Socrates decided him to abandon poetry for ever. Of the epigrams ascribed to Plato (some ascribed as early as Aristippus, περὶ παλαίας τρυφῆς, apud Diog. 29; who is followed by Diogenes himself, loc. cit., Apuleius de Magia c. 10; Gellius xix. 11; Athenaeus xiii. 589 C.; and others; cf. Bergk, Lyrici Graeci, 489 sq.), which are mostly amatory trifles, the great majority are evidently forgeries, or attributed to him by some confusion; the rest are at least quite uncertain, and so is the little epic fragment in the Anthologia Planudea, 210. Cf. Bergk, loc. cit., and Hermann, Plato, 101.

9^ Specially in the Protagoras; but in some of the minor dialogues too, e.g. the Lysis, Charmides, and Laches, the dramatic element is greatly in excess of the dialectic.

10^ That poetry in Athens at that time was largely of this character is shown, among other testimony, by the passages from Aristophanes quoted by Hermann on page 100; Frogs 88 sq.; Birds 1444 sq.

11^ Diog. iii. 8, says that he first brought Sophron’s mimes to Athens (this, however, could only have been after his journey), and took such delight in them that he used to keep them under his pillow. The latter statement also occurs in Val. Max. 8, 7, sectn. 3; Olymp. 3; and Proleg. 3 (with regard to Sophron and Aristophanes). Probably, however, these assertions only originate in the endeavour to find models for his dialogues. He is also said to have taken Epicharmus as a pattern, but not much reliance can be placed on this. Vide Part 1, p. 428 sq.

12^ Vide Part 1, p. 601 sq.

13^ Aristotle, Metaphysics 1, 6, init., ἐκ νέου τε γὰρ συνήθης γενόμενος πρῶτον Κρατύλῳ καὶ ταῖς Ἡρακλειτείοις δόξαις, ὡς ἁπάντων τῶν αἰσθητῶν ἀεὶ ῥεόντων καὶ ἐπιστήμης περὶ αὐτῶν οὐκ οὔσης, ταῦτα μὲν καὶ ὕστερον οὕτως ὑπέλαβεν: Σωκράτους δὲ περὶ μὲν τὰ ἠθικὰ πραγματευομένου περὶ δὲ τῆς ὅλης φύσεως οὐθέν, ἐν μέντοι τούτοις τὸ καθόλου ζητοῦντος καὶ περὶ ὁρισμῶν ἐπιστήσαντος πρώτου τὴν διάνοιαν, ἐκεῖνον ἀποδεξάμενος, &c. Diog. (3, Olymp. 4, and Proleg. 4 date the acquaintance with Cratylus after Socrates death; but, in face of Aristotle’s express testimony, we can, of course, attach no weight to this. Diogenes also mentions, in connection with Cratylus, the Parmenidean Hermogenes(who appears in the Prolegomena as Hermippus); but this is merely an arbitrary inference from the dialogue Cratylus; the Hermogenes of which (vide Cratyl. 384 A, 391 C.) is certainly the well-known disciple of Socrates, (vide supra 166, note 1). Similarly from the Parmenides is derived the assertion (Anonymus apud Photium, Cod. 249, p. 439 a.), that Zeno and Parmenides instructed Plato in logic.

14^ Compare the expression in Plutarch, Marius 46; Lactantius, Institutiones Divinse 3, 19; though its genuineness may be doubted, as we have the same put into the mouth of Socrates, or even Thales, ap. Diog. 1, 33.

15^ Pausanias, 1, 30, 3; Diog. 5; Olymp. 4; Proleg. 1; Apul. dogm. Plat. 1; Socrates is said to have dreamt that a swan, the bird of Apollo, flew towards him with a melodious song. Next morning Plato presented himself, and Socrates immediately recognised the meaning of the dream.

16^ According to Hermodorus apud Diog. 6, he was twenty years old when he became acquainted with Socrates, and twenty-eight when he went to Euclid, after Socrates death. According to this, he would he born in 01. 88, 1 (vide supra, 280, 1). Exact information, however, can hardly be got on this point. The absurd statements of Suidas, sub voce Πλάτων, and Eudocia in Villoison’s Anecdota 1, 362, about a twenty years intercourse with Socrates, are obviously wrong.

17^ How close the two were to each other is shown by the whole attitude of the Platonic writings, and by the portraiture of Socrates in them, more completely even than by some single passages. We may, however, compare Xenophon, Mem. 3, G, 1; Plato, Apology, 34 A, 38 13; Phaedo, 51) B.

18^ That he was already acquainted with the Pythagorean philosophy might be inferred from the Phaedrus, if it were certain that this dialogue was composed before Socrates death. But the accounts which might warrant such a conclusion (e.g. the statement that the Phaedrus was his earliest work, and that the subsequent Lysis had been read and disowned by Socrates, for which vide Diog. 38, 35. Olymp. 3. Prolegg. 3) are not trustworthy enough, and the supposition itself is far too improbable. Still more dubious is the conjecture (Susemihl Genet. Entw. 1, 3, 444; Munk, Natur. Ordn. 497 sqq.; and cf. Herm. Plat. 528), that, in the Phaedo, 95 E sqq., Plato puts the history of his own philosophic development in the mouth of Socrates. This assumption has given rise to a string of others equally untenable. The influence on the earlier formation of Plato’s, mind which can alone be certainly attested, that, namely, of the Heraclitean philosophy, is obviously not touched upon here. Nor does the passage in the Phaedo, on whole, convey the impression of a biographical account: it is rather an exposition of the universal necessity of progress from the material to final causes, and thence to the Ideas. It takes the form of a personal confession; but ‘Plato is not giving a historical narration of the philosophical development either of himself or Socrates; he is laying down in outline the principles which lead from the philosophy of nature to conceptual philosophy.’ Brucke, Plat. Stud. iii. 427, with whom Steinhart agrees in the main, in spite of the admission that the development of Socrates is here described. Ueberweg, Exam, of Plat. Writings, 92 sq.

19^ Plato Apol., 20 D. Phaedo, 97 B. With regard, too, to the writings of Parmenides and Zeno, Schaarschmidt rightly observes that they were read quite as much in Athens as in Megara.

20^ As I have observed in the Zeitschrift fur Alterthumswissensch aft for 1851, page 254, this is rendered probable by the constitution of those minor Platonic dialogues which we are justified in dating before the death of Socrates. If in these dialogues the dry formality of the dialectic discussions is found to present a striking contrast to the completeness and vivacity of the dramatic investiture; if there is a remarkable absence in them of youthful fire; if, in later works, e.g. the Phaedrus and Symposium, similar subjects are treated with much greater vigour and élan than in an early production like the Lysis; the most obvious explanation seems to lie in the influence of Socrates.

21^ Cf. p. 161, note 1.

22^ Phaedo, 59 B. Cf. Herm. Plat. 34, 103; Plutarch, De Virtute Morali 10, p. 449, does not seem to warrant any conclusion. It is not impossible that his absence owing to ill-health is a mere fiction, by means of which he wished to secure greater freedom for himself in narrating the speeches which preceded the death of Socrates. His readiness to stand bail for Socrates has been already mentioned, p. 288 sq. The statement of Justus of Tiberias, ap. Diog; 2, 41, Proleg. 3, that Plato wished to undertake Socrates’ defence himself, but was prevented by the clamour of the judges, like everything else about Socrates’ trial, is disputed. Cf. p. 161 sq.; and Herm. loc. cit.

23^ Cf. specially the way in which he speaks of the great Athenian statesmen in the Gorgias, 515 C sq., and 521 C sq.; Theaetetus, 173 C sq., on the condition of his native city and the relation of the philosopher to politics; besides later judgments, e.g. Politicus, 298 A sq.; Republic, vi. 488 A-497 A: viii. 557 A sq.; 562 A sq.

24^ According to the 7th Platonic letter, 324 B sq., Plato had intended to take an active part in politics, first under the Thirty Tyrants, and, after their expulsion, under the democracy; but was deterred both times by the state of affairs, and specially by the attack on Socrates. We cannot, of course, give much weight to this debateable testimony.

25^ I borrow this denomination from Schwegler, Hist. of Phil. 41.

26^ Hermodor. ap. Diog. ii. 106, iii. 6. The migration took place according to this authority when Plato was twenty-eight; doubtless immediately after the execution of Socrates. He indicates its motive in the words δείσαντας τὴν ὠμότητα τῶν τυράννων. Formerly by these τύραννοι were understood the so-called Thirty Tyrants, and little weight was therefore attributed to the evidence of Hermodorus. But this explanation can no longer be entertained, now that we know from Simplic. Phys. 54 b. 56 b. (supra 1, 1), that the Hermodorus whose statement is preserved for us in Diogenes, is no other than the well-known Platonist. How can it be supposed that a personal pupil of Plato, like Hermodorus, could have been so ignorant as to think that Socrates was executed under the tyranny of the Thirty? We need not understand the τύραννοι in this sense. Indeed, often as the Thirty are mentioned, the expression the ‘Thirty Tyrants,’ or simply the ‘Tyrants (without τρίάκοντα), is not used as the ordinary appellation for the Thirty in any writer of that period, or, in fact, in any writer preserved to us before the time of Cicero and Diodorus. The invariable title is οἱ τρίάκοντα. A τύραννος, according to the Greek view, is a single chief who rules without laws; a rule like that of ‘the Thirty’ is not a tyranny, but, as it is often called, an oligarchy. The Thirty are only once called τύραννοι in oratorical exaggerations, e.g. by Polycrates in Arist. Rhet. ii. 24, 1401, a. 33; but we cannot conclude from this that it was the usual appellation for them, and that every one who spoke of the τύραννοι must have meant the Thirty. Hermodorus’ expression must be understood in a different way; the τύραννοι are the democrats who brought about the execution of Socrates, just as Xenophon, Hellen. iv. 4, 6, calls the democrats who held sway at Corinth τοὺς τυραννεύοντας on account of their reign of terror. Similarly the seventh Platonic letter, 325 B, calls the accusers of Socrates δυναστεύοντες τινες. The distinction which Steinhart, Pl. L., 122 sq., draws between τύραννοι and τυραννεύοντες is, I think, too fine, and I see no reason why an adversary might not have applied the term τύραννοι to violent democrats just as much as to violent oligarchs. I will not, of course, dispute the possibility that this expression is not borrowed from Hermodorus himself. Stein (Sieben Bücher z. Gesch. d. Plat. ii. 66, 170 sq.), and after him Schaarschmidt (Sammlung d. plat. Schr. 65 sq.), have been led into error through a false presupposition, in rejecting Hermodorus’s date and through a false presupposition, in rejecting Hermodorus’s date and his evidence for Plato’s sojourn in Megara, on the ground that τύραννοι can only mean ‘the τύραννοι so-called κατ͗ ἐξοχήν’ — those who ’have always been understood as the Tyrants at Athens, viz. the Thirty only. Schaarschmidt has so far misconstrued the τύραννοι of Hermodorus as to identify, in a hasty reading of the seventh Platonic letter, the δυναςτεύοντες who brought Socrates to trial with the ‘τύραννοι’ mentioned earlier (the quotation marks are Schaarschmidt’s); but in the Platonic letter there is not a word about ‘τύραννοι,’ whereas the τρίάκοντα are twice mentioned (324 C, 325 B). According to Schaarschmidt’s theory Hermodorus could not of course have been the immediate pupil of Plato, in spite of Dercyllides, who still possessed his work, and in spite of the other witnesses cited on p. 1, 1.) Equally unjustifiable is the assertion of Stein against Hermodorus, with regard to some of the well-known Socratics, such as Xenophon, Antisthenes, Aeschines, that it is highly improbable, if not quite impossible, that they were with Plato at Megara. Hermodorus does not state that all the Socratic students had gone there: Diog. merely says, iii. 6, ἔπειτα … καθά φησιν Έρμόδωρος εἰς Μέγαρα πρὸς Εὐκλείδην σὺν καὶ ἄλλοις τισὶ Σωκρατικοῖς ὑπεχώρησεν [ὁ Πλάτων] and if we compare ii 106: πρὸς τοῦτον (Euclid) φησὶν ὁ Έρμόδωρος ἀφίκεσθαι Πλάτωνα καὶ τοὺς λοιποὺς φιλοσόφους the meaning is obviously not (as Steinhart, Pl. L. 121, understands) all the philosophers who were at that time in Athens but the rest known to the reader (i.e. the reader of Hermodorus, or of the writer whose statement is here made use of) who had left Athens with Plato. We might be more ready to doubt, with Steinhart (Pl. L. 121) whether danger threatening one of their number afforded Plato and his friends any ground for apprehension. It is quite possible that Hermodorus attributed this motive to them from his own conjecture in which he was really mistaken. However, the state of affairs after the death of Socrates is so little known to us that we cannot decide whether there was not some occasion, though perhaps unwarranted, for apprehension.

27^ On what follows cf. Herm, Plat. 51 sq.; 109 sq.

28^ All testimony agrees that his travels extended at least thus far. For his travels in Egypt, we may quote his acquaintance with Egyptian institutions (vide page 358, note 2). The order of the journeys is variously given. According to Cicero, Republic, i. 10; De Finibus, v. 29, 87; Valerius Maximus, viii. 7, ext. 3; Augustine, De Civitate Dei, viii. 4, he went first to Egypt, and then to Italy and Sicily. It should be remarked, that Valerius, like the declamator he is, transfers the date of the travels to the period when Plato had become famous. On the other hand, Diogenes iii. (with whom is Quintilian, Institutes, i. 12, 15), makes him visit Cyrene first, then the Pythagoreans in Italy, then Egypt (accompanied by Euripides, who had died some time before, however), and thence return to Athens. According to Apuleius, Dogin. Plat. i. 3; and the Prolegomena, c. 4, he went first to Italy to visit the Pythagoreans, then to Cyrene and Egypt, and thence back again to Italy and Sicily. The most credible of these statements is the first. We can scarcely suppose that Plato visited Italy twice running (the 7th Platonic letter, 326 B, only knows of one Italo-Sicilian journey), while everything is in favour of Sicily’s having been the end of his travels (vide subter). And the opposite account gives us an unhistoric motive in the assertion of Apuleius and the Prolegomena, that he visited Cyrene and Egypt to investigate the sources of Pythagoreanism. The conjecture of Stallbaum, Plat. Polit. 38; Plat. Opp. i. xix., that Apul. is following Speusippus, is quite indemonstrable. According to Diog. 7, he had intended to visit the Magi (and according to Apul. loc. cit., the Indians too), but was prevented by the wars in Asia. Lactantius, Institut. 4, 2, actually makes him travel to the Magi and Persians; Clemens, Cohortationes 46, to the Babylonians, Assyrians, Hebrews, and Thracians. Cicero, Tusculans, 4, 19, 44. speaks of the ultimae terrae which he had explored; according to Olymp. 4, Prolegg. 4, he had been initiated in the doctrines of Zoroaster by Persians in Phoenicia; Pausanias, iv. 32, 4, repeats this, and says that he was also acquainted with Chaldean lore; and according to Pliny, Natural History 30, 2, 9, he acquired the Persian magic while on his travels. These, however, are doubtless the inventions of later times, analogous to the tales about Pythagoras, and perhaps to some extent modelled on them. A still more palpable fiction is the alleged acquaintance with Jews and Jewish Scriptures, on which cf. Brucker, i. 635 sq.; Hermann, p. 114 A, 125; with the writers he quotes, and the 3rd part of the present work, 221, 300, 2nd edit. Lactantius, loc. cit. wonders that Plato and Pythagoras had not visited the Jews.

29^ Diogenes 6 would lead us to suppose that he went from Megara straight to Cyrene, and from thence to Sicily. On the other hand, the 7th Platonic letter makes a long interval of active teaching elapse before his coming to Megara. Vide next note.

30^ The only source for this is, of course, the 7th Platonic letter, 324 A; and that account becomes suspicious, because it is connected with the assertion in 325 C sq. that even before his journeys Plato had acquired and expressed the conviction, κακῶν οὖν οὐ λήξειν τὰ ἀνθρώπινα γένη, πρὶν ἂν ἢ τὸ τῶν φιλοσοφούντων ὀρθῶς γε καὶ ἀληθῶς γένος εἰς ἀρχὰς ἔλθῃ τὰς πολιτικὰς ἢ τὸ τῶν δυναστευόντων ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν ἔκ τινος μοίρας θείας ὄντως φιλοσοφήσῃ. If with this we compare Rep. v. 473 C, we can hardly doubt that the above quoted words are to be referred to this place in the Republic. Consequently, the composition of the Republic must be dated before Plato’s first Sicilian journey. But this (vide subter) is in the highest degree improbable. At the same time, the statement of the letter as to Plato’s age at the time of his journey receives a confirmation which has been noticed by Stallbaum, Plat. Polit. p. 44, in correcting his earlier theory (De Argumento et Artificio Theaeteti, 13), that Plato did not return till the year 386. The confirmation is this. On his way back from Sicily, Plato is said to have been sold for a slave at Dionysius instigation, in Aegina, and, according to an apparently accurate account in Diog. iii. 19, his execution was actually debated on, as a plebiscite punished all Athenians who entered the island with death. Aegina, therefore, must at this time have been at open war with Athens. Now, according to Xenophon, Hellenica, v. 1, 1, this state of things cannot be dated before the last years of the Corinthian war; up to that time, the intercourse between Athens and Aegina had received no check. This would give us 389 or at most 390 B.C., and we may therefore accede to the views of Hermann (p. 63) and almost all the later writers, that it was about this time that Plato returned to Athens. Grote, Hist. of Greece, xi. 52, would date his arrival at Syracuse not earlier than 387; on the ground that Dionysius would hardly have had leisure, before that time, during his war with Rhegium, to attend to the philosopher. We need not, however, attach much importance to this argument; and, according to Diodorus, xiv. 110 sq., the conquest of Rhegium dates later than the peace of Antalcidas, after which the treatment experienced by Plato in Aegina was impossible. Some time, too, must be allowed between Plato’s arrival and his departure. Tennemann, Platon’s Philosophie, i. 46, inclines to the belief that Plato’s first appearance in the Academy was in 01. 99: an opinion which needs no special refutation, in face of the previous remarks and the facts to be presently adduced

31^ We may not be inclined to give much weight to the expressions of the 7th letter on this point (quoted on pp. 15, 28; 17, 30), or to Valerius Maximus, both being too little trustworthy. But the theory is undoubtedly favoured by the circumstance that we possess a series of important works of Plato’s, composed in all probability before his return from Sicily, and at least some of them after his sojourn at Megara. The first of these is the Theaetetus. The occasion of the dialogue is connected with a meeting with Theaetetus, who is returning sick to Athens from the army at Corinth. This can only refer to the Corinthian War, B.C. 394-387. Munk (Nat. Ordn. d. Pl. Schr. 391 sq.) and Ueberweg (Exam, of Plat, writings, 227 sq.) make the reference to B.C. 368: cf. Diodor. 15, 68. At that date, however, Theaetetus would have been no longer under any obligation to take part in a foreign campaign, and the dialogue would have to be dated later than various considerations, to be brought forward presently, will warrant. Between the two dates given there was no Athenian army at Corinth. In its later years the Corinthian war was carried on by Athens with mercenaries only (Xen. Hell. 4, 4, 1; 14: Diodor. 14, 86, 91 sq.), so the dialogue must refer to the first period, 39-4/2. The date of its composition cannot be much later; the introduction almost a dedication to Euclid points to a time at which Plato had not so decidedly broken with the Megara School as he has in the Sophist, and gives us the impression that it relates to matters still fresh in the Greek reader’s mind. (Ueberweg, p. 235, thinks such a dedication awkward; I only say that the frame in which the dialogue is set amounts to a dedication. Cicero has dedicated his Posterior Academics to Varro in the same way.) Munk and Ueberweg object that if Plato wrote the Theaetetus so early, he must have foreseen Theaetetus achievements in mathematics, at tested by Proclus in Eucl. p. 19, 25. But Socrates does not say (Theaet. 142 D) that Theaetetus will live to be a distinguished mathematician; he only predicts that he will become an ἐλλόγιμος ἀνήρ; and there was no reason why he should not have said this at the date 392-388. If Theaetetus is called (143 E sq.) μειράκιον in B.C. 399, it does not follow that he was no more than 16, as Munk thinks; in the Symposium 223 A, Agathon, at the time of his first victory, is called μειράκιον; and in Plutarch, Pericl. 36, Pericles betrothed son is denoted by the same title: on the other hand, Theaetetus is called ἀνήρ in page 144 D. Several other works (vide subter) seem to have preceded the Theaetetus, and probably most of them were composed at Athens: Plato could not have given the requisite pains and concentration while on his travels; and to suppose them written at Megara would be to assume a longer residence there than our evidence warrants. (See following note.) Some Irace of such a stay, beyond the notice in Hermodorus, would naturally have been preserved. The sharp polemic of the Theaetetus, (which Hermann, 499, and Steinhart, I Mat. Werk. iii. 81, 556, appear to be wrong in ignoring), and the probably contemporaneous Euthydemus against Antisthenes (vide supra, pp. 248, 1, 4; 252, 3; 254, 1; 255, 2; 256, 1;) might indeed warrant the conjecture, that at the time when he wrote these dialogues, Plato had already had some personal encounters with Euclid, and known him as his opponent in Athens. If at this period Plato had already passed some years of literary activity at Athens, we can hardly imagine that the philosopher who will only allow a written document as a reminder to oral delivery (Phaedrus 276 D sq.) should have refrained from enunciating his views in personal intercourse with others.

32^ If fear for his personal safety was the reason of his retirement to Megara, he must soon have been enabled to return home without danger; and again, as the philosophic intercourse with Euclid, supposing this to be Plato’s object, could just as well be enjoyed from the neighbouring Athens, it is impossible to see what could detain the philosopher a year at Megara.

33^ Grote agrees with the above, Plato i. 121. He rightly considers it highly improbable that Plato should have spent the 13 (strictly speaking 10-12) years before his return from Sicily in voluntary banishment.

34^ As Steinhart conjectures, Pl. W. iii. 100, 213, 316, 473.

35^ Most of our authorities take it for granted that he came straight from Egypt to Italy. But the varying accounts of the order of his travels, noticed above, show the utter want of exact information on the point. The 7th letter is silent about the journey to Egypt; if we are to follow it, we must conclude that he went straight from home to Italy; and Plutarch’s statement (Plut. de Genio Socratis 7, p. 579), which makes Plato visit Delos on his return from Egypt, perhaps goes on the presupposition that he was not on a voyage to Italy, but to Athens. The main point, however, is that this theory gives the easiest arrangement of his works with reference to his life. The Politicus shows traces of his acquaintance with Egypt (vide subter, p. 22, 41). But on these points conjecture is all that is possible.

36^ We shall see presently that the Theaetetus and dialogues of the same date presuppose the doctrine of Ideas, and a certain acquaintance with Pythagorean tenets.

37^ The details on this point seem to rest on mere conjecture. Cicero, loc. cit, names Archytas, Echecrates, Timaeus, and Acrion, or Arion (Valerius Maximus adds Coetus), as Pythagoreans, whose acquaintance he had made at that time. Olympiodorus gives Archytas, (the name of Timaeus seems to have dropped out); Apuleius, loc. cit., Eurytus and Archytas; Diogenes, Eurytus and Philolaus (the latter can scarcely have been alive at the time). Cf. Böckh, Philol. 5 sq.; and Pt. 1, p. 287, of the present work.

38^ The first writer known to us who mentions the purchase of Philolaus works by Plato is Timon the Sillographer, Gellium, iii. 17. He only however, that Plato bought a small book for a large price, and with its help wrote his Timaeus. That the purchase was made on his travels, he does not say; nor does the price of the book — as given Gellius, 10,000 denarii = 100 Attic minae — seem to come from him. On the other hand, Hermippus, ap. Diog. viii. 85 (about B.C. 230), says, on the authority of a writer not named, but doubtless an Alexandrian, that Plato, on his visit to Sicily, bought Philolaus work from his relations for 40 Alexandrine minae, and copied his Timaeus from it. Others (ibid.) say that the book was a present in acknowledgment of Plato’s having obtained the freedom of one of Philolaus scholars from Dionysius. Cicero, Hep. i. 10, says less definitely that Plato acquired it during his stay in Sicily. According to Satyrus ap. Diog. iii. 9, viii. 15 (followed by Iamblichus de vita Pythagorica, 199) it was not Plato himself, but Dion by his commission, who bought it for 100 minae. This sum, adds Diogenes, he could easily afford; for he is said to have been well off, and, as Onetor tells, to have received from Dionysius more than eighty talents. (The latter statement is not merely exaggerated, but plainly fictitious; cf. also Diog. ii. 81, and page 312, 2.) Tzetzes, Chiliades x. 790 sq., 999 sq., xi. 37, makes Dion buy it for him from Philolaus heirs for 100 minae. We may probably agree with Böckh, Philologus 18 sq., Susemihl, Genet. Entwickl., 1, 2, sq., and Steinhart, Pl. C 149, sq., in saying that Plato certainly was acquainted with the work of Philolaus, perhaps actually possessed it; but beyond this, when, where, and how he acquired it, cannot be determined, owing to the contradictory, ambiguous, and partially improbable nature of the accounts that have come down to us. A priori, it would be more likely that it came to him at Athens through the instrumentality of Simmias and Cebes. The Prolegomena, c. 5, transfer the myth of the world soul to the pseudo Timaeus.

39^ Diog. iii. 6; Apul. loc. cit. That Plato was acquainted with Theodorus seems probable from the Theaetetus, 143 D sqq., and the opening of the Sophist and Politicus. The acquaintance had doubtless been made at Athens. Theodorus had visited Athens shortly before the death of Socrates. (Plato, loc. cit.; and cf. Xen. Memor. iv. 2, 10.)

40^ The possibility, of course, remains that the journey to Cyrene was a mere invention, in order to assign to Plato the mathematical teacher on whom he bestows the acknowledgment of mention.

41^ We shall see later on what significance Plato attached to mathematical relations, and how much he valued a scientific knowledge of them. They are to him the peculiar connecting link between Idea and Phenomenon; and thus the knowledge of them is the intermediate step, leading from sensuous envisagement to rational contemplation of the idea. Cf. Plut. Quaest. Conviv. viii. 2 init.; Philop. de An. D, 6, o. David Schol. in Arist. 26, a, 10; Tzetz. Chil., viii. 972 sq. ascribe to him, without sufficient authority, the inscription over his lecture-room, μηδεὶς ἀγεωμέτρητος εἰσίτω, which is generally stated to have been of Pythagorean origin.

42^ Vide Ciceron. de Oratore, i. 50, 217; and Proclus in Euclidem, ii. 19, who notices him as one of the most important contributors to the advance of mathematical science. Phavorinus apud Diog. iii. 24, and Proclus, loc. cit. and p. 58, attribute the invention of analysis and the conic section to him. Both statements, however, are doubtful; Proclus himself, p. 31, gives Menaechmus as discoverer of the conic section. See, however, Ideler on Eudemus, Abh. d. Berl. Ak. 1828, Hist. Phil. Kl. S. 207, for Phavorinus’ statement. The tale of his solving the Delian problem (how to double a cube), while at the same time he found fault with the usual mathematical processes, is widely spread. Plut. de Ei. 6, 386; De Genio Socratis 7, p. 519; Qusest. Conviv. viii. 2, 1, 7, p. 718; Marcellus, c. 14; Theo Smyrn. c. 1. Still, the accounts are very mythical: he reduced the problem to the finding two mean proportionals between two given lines. This may be correct. Cf. Eutocius in Archim. de Sph. et Cyl. Archim. ed. Torelli, p. 135. Philop. in An. Post. p. 24, 117. (Schol. in Ar. 209 a, 36 b, 21 sq.) Ideler, loc. cit. He is also said to have invented a time-piece, Athen. iv. 174 c. In the Theaetetus, 147 D sqq., he puts several new arithmetical definitions in Theaetetus’ mouth, doubtless his own discoveries; as the idea of stereometry, in Republic vii. 528 A sq., is represented to be, with special reference to the αὔξη τῶν κύβων. For mathematical passages in his writings, the reader may be referred to Meno 82 A sq. 87 A; Rep. viii. 546 B; Timaeus, 35 A sqq., 31 C sqq., 53 C sqq.

43^ According to Cicero de Finibus, v. 29, 87, he learned from the Priests numeros et coelestia (so Val. Max. viii. 7, 3); according to Clemens, Cohort. 46 A (cf. Stromata, i. 303 C), he learned geometry from the Egyptians, astronomy from the Babylonians, magic from the Thracians (evidently reminiscence of Charmides, 156 D), and the rest from the Assyrians and Jews. Strabo (xvii. 1, 29, p. 806) was actually shown the house in Heliopolis where Plato had stayed with Eudoxus for thirteen years! (For thirteen, some MSS. of the Epitome read three, arbitrarily: vid. Strabo, ed. Kramer.) Against the whole statement, vid. Diog. viii. 86 sq. Ideler, loc. cit. 191 sq. Plato is said to have stayed at Heliopolis until he induced the priests to communicate some of their astronomical lore to him. At all events, they kept the greater part to themselves. Clemens (Strom. loc. cit.: cf. Diog. viii. 90) even knows the names of the priests who taught Plato and Eudoxus. He separates the two latter in time. Plut. Gen. Socr. c. 7, p. 518, gives him Simmias for a companion. Apuleius, Dogm. Plat. 3, and the Proleg. 4, make him learn sacred rites in Egypt, as well as geometry and astronomy. Vide Olymp. 5; Lucan, Pharsalia x. 181. Philostratus, Vila Apollonii 1, 4, only speaks of geometry and astronomy, which Plutarch de Iside, c. 10, p. 354, also mentions. Quintilian, 1, 12, 15, speaks indefinitely of the secrets of the priests; Diodorus, 1, 98, mentions the laws which Plato, like Solon and Lycurgus, had borrowed from Egypt. He is here following Manetho or some other Egyptian authority.

44^ The external evidence has no authority per se. It belongs altogether to a time far removed from Plato’s, and abounding in arbitrary fictions which derived all Greek wisdom from the East. Some of the oldest legends, as in Strabo and Diodorus, sound so in credible and point so plainly to dim Egyptian sources, that we cannot attach the slightest weight to them. There is no historic probability that Plato borrowed anything of importance from the Egyptians (vide pt. 1, p. 31 sqq.). And if we seek traces of the alleged Egyptian influence in Plato’s doctrines and writings, we find pretty nearly the opposite of what, according to those later traditions, we might expect. He certainly shows some knowledge of Egypt (Polit. 264 C, Phaedr. 274 C); he makes use, perhaps, once of an Egyptian myth (Phaedr. loc. cit.); he derives another, really of his own invention, from Egypt, while he enlarges on the great antiquity of Egyptian legends (Timaeus 21 E sqq.); he praises particular institutions (Laws ii. 656D; vii. 799; the gravity and religious character of the music, ibid. vii. 819 A; the regard paid to arithmetic in the popular education); while he blames ethers (loc. cit. ii. 657 A, ἀλλ᾽ ἕτερα φαῦλ᾽ ἂν εὕροις αὐτόθι. Specially, in xii. 953 E [τε καὶ ξένας ἐξ ἄλλης χώρας καὶ τοὺς αὑτῶν ἐκπέμπειν, τιμῶντας ξένιον Δία, μὴ βρώμασι καὶ θύμασι τὰς ξενηλασίας ποιουμένους, καθάπερ ποιοῦσιν νῦν θρέμματα Νείλου, μηδὲ κηρύγμασιν ἀγρίοις], if the remarkable words, καδαῆερ κ.τ.λ. are really Plato’s, he censures the Egyptian cruelty towards strangers). On the whole, he is inclined to disparage the moral condition and mental capacity of the Egyptians, and ascribes to them not the scientific, but only the industrial character (Rep. iv. 435 E; Laws, v. 747 C). This does not look as if he were sensible of any great philosophic debt to Egypt; and there is really nothing in his system to point to Egyptian sources. Throughout, his philosophic attitude appears independent of any but Greek influences: the mathematical element in him is most nearly connected with Pythagoreanism; (cf. p. 301, and Arist. Metaphysics, 1, 6, init.); his religious references are confined to the Greek cultus; his politics find their illustration only in Greek types and Greek circumstances. Even the separation of classes in the Republic, as will be shown in its place, is not to be explained as an imitation of the Egyptian caste-system. Indeed, the most marked feature in the Egyptian constitution, the priestly rule, is altogether absent in Plato; and in the Politicus, 290 D sqq., with express reference to Egypt, he very decidedly disapproves of it. Cf. with the preceding Herm. p. 54 sqq., 112 sqq., where there are fuller quotations; and my Part i. p. 25 sq.

45^ Of this there can really be no doubt. All our authorities are unanimous on the point, and Plato himself, in drawing the picture of the tyrant (Rep. viii. fin. ix. init.), seems to be speaking from personal experience of what he describes. The circumstances of the visit are variously given. We find, in quite ancient times, a calumnious story to the effect that it was the Sicilian kitchen which attracted the philosopher to Syracuse. (Cf. Ep. Plat. vii. 326 B sq; Apul. Dogm. Plat. 4; Themistius, Orationes, 23, 285 c.; Aristides, Orationes 46 de quatuor viris, T. 301, Dind.; Lucian, Parasite, 34; Olymp. 4; Diog. iii. 34; vi. 25, &c. We find a similar account in Philostr. v. Apoll. 1, 35, ὑπὲρ πλούτου Σικελικοῦ.) The usual account is that he went to see the volcano (Diog. iii. 18; Apul. 4; Olymp. 4; Proleg. 4; Hegesander ap. Athen. xi. 507 b; the seventh Platonic letter is less definite, 326 D; and Plut. Dion. 4, follows it, in saying that chance or some Divine guidance brought him to Sicily). According to Diog., Dionysius obliged Plato to visit him; according to Plutarch, it was Dion who introduced Plato to his brother-in-law. Olymp. says that he sought out the tyrant uninvited, to induce him to lay down his power. Cornelius Nepos, x. 2 (with whom, in the main, Diodor. xv. 7 agrees), says that Dionysius invited Plato from Tarentum at Dion’s request.

46^ Vide the places quoted; specially the 7th Platonic letter. This, of course, is as little trustworthy as any of the other letters; but it shows that Dion was generally assumed to have stood in close relations with Plato. For his alleged services to him, cf. Nepos, Plutarch, Cic. de or. iii. 34, 139, and pp. 288 sq., 300, 3.

47^ Thus much is probably correct. The more detailed accounts in Plut., Diog., Olymp., loc. cit., appear to be mere arbitrary colourings of the main fact. The anecdotes about Plato’s meetings with Aristippus (referred by many to this period) are equally uncertain. Vide supra, 291, 2, 312, 2.

48^ Here too there is a great diversity in the accounts. According to Diodorus xv. 7, Dionysius sold the philosopher in the Syracusan slave market, for 20 minae; his friends freed him, and sent him to a friendly country. Diogenes, 19 sq., on Phavorinus’ authority, says that Dionysius was at first disposed to put Plato to death, but was dissuaded by Dion and Aristomenes and only delivered him to Pollis to sell. Pollis took him to Aegina; and there, in accordance with a decree of the people, Plato would have been executed, as being an Athenian, but was allowed, as a favour, to be sold instead. Diogenes adds, that Dion or other friends wished to repay Anniceris his expenses, 20 or 30 minae; this he refused to take, but bought with it, for Plato’s use, the garden in the Academy, the price of which is given in Plutarch (de exilio 10 S. 603) as 3000 drachmae (30 minae). So Heraclitus, Alleg. Homer C. 74, S. 150. Plutarch himself (Dion 5, cf. de tranquillitate animi 12, 471), and an account in Olympiodorus in Gorg. 164, say that when Plato had incurred Dionysius’ enmity his friends hurried him away on board the ship with which Pollis sailed to Greece (this is scarcely credible, if Sparta and Athens were then at war). Dionysius had given Pollis secret orders to kill Plato, or sell him; and to effect this Pollis brought him to Aegina. Tzetzes, Chil. x. 995 sq., has a wonderful version; Plato was bought by Archytas from Pollis, and then instructed in the Pythagorean philosophy. Seneca (ep. 47, 12, and apud Lactant. Inst. iii. 25, 15 sq.) mentions the transaction, while he blames Anniceris for only having paid 8000 sestertii — 20 minae — for a Plato. Olympiodorus, 4, actually puts the whole occurrence in the second journey. Göttling, Geschichtlichen Abhandlungen 1, 369, endeavours to free Dionysius from the guilt of the sale; but his arguments, doubtful in themselves, are hardly in accord with Plutarch’s statement. There is no real certainty in any of the various versions of the affair; cf. Steinhart’s critique (Plato’s Leben, 151 sqq.).

49^ Diog. iii. 5, 7. 41; cf. Herm. 121 sq., who makes the necessary remarks on the statements of Olymp. c. 6, and the Prolog, c. 4. According to Aelian, iii. 19, it was after his third Sicilian journey that he withdrew for some months into his garden, being dislodged by Aristotle; which is manifestly false. Aelian again, ix. 10, and Porphyry, De Abstinentia 1, 36, tell us that the Academy was reputed to be unhealthy, but that Plato refused to move from it for the sake of longer life. It could not, however, have been very bad; for Plato, Xenocrates, and Polemo lived to a good age in it. Hieron. adv. Jovin. ii. 203, Mart., actually thinks that Plato betook himself to the unhealthy spot, ut cura et assiduitate morborum libidinis impetus frangeretur; judging the philosopher rather too much by his own experience. So too Aeneas of Gaza, Theophr. ed. Barth, p. 25.

50^ Olymp. 6 has not the value of a witness, and can lead us to no conclusion of any moment.

51^ Protagoras 328 E sqq, 334 C sqq.; Gorgias 449 B.

52^ Phaedrus 275 D sq; 276 E.

53^ The references on this point, from Simplicius, Physica 32 b, 104, 117; Alexander on the Metaphysics 1, 6 (Schol. in Aristot. 551, b. 19); Philoponus De Anima C, 2, are given by Brandis, De perditis Aristotelis libris de ideis et de Bono, p. 3 sq., 23 sqq. To the same treatise may be referred the statement of Aristoxenus (on Aristotle’s authority), Harmoniae Elementa, ii. p. 30, and this work Part ii. b. 48. 2, 771, d. 2.

54^ De Anima i. 2, 204 b. 18; on the Question whether the Aristotelian books (and consequently the Platonic discourses) on the Good were identical with those on philosophy, or not, vide Brandis loc. cit. 5 sq.; Gr. E. Phil. ii b 1, 84 sq.

55^ Aristotle loc. cit. calls them ἀκρόσις, Simpl. λόγοι and συν ἀκρόασια.

56^ Diog. iii. 37 (vide note 4) does not warrant such a conclusion; the reference there seems to be to a prelection in the school. On the other hand Themist., or. xxi. 295 D, tells us that Plato once delivered a discourse which a large audience flocked to hear from Athens and the country. When, however, he came to the doctrine of the Good, the whole assembly, down to Plato’s usual hearers, dispersed. No doubt this is only an arbitrary expansion of what Aristox. loc. cit. tells on Aristotle’s authority, that the majority of Plato’s disciples were greatly astonished, in the discourse on the Good, to hear, not of things usually considered good, but of mathematics, astronomy, and finally of the One Good. Plato certainly would not expound the most ideal part of his system to a miscellaneous concourse of hearers, as Themistius imagines; and, apart from that, with his views as to the conditions of any fruitful study of philosophy, and his low estimate of mere popular display speeches, he is hardly likely to have troubled himself with giving discourses to people who had not fulfilled his requirements.

57^ Cf. Phaedrus 276 D. Instead of other amusement, a man might write books, ἑαυτῷ τε ὑπομνήματα θησαυριζόμενος, εἰς τὸ λήθης γῆρας ἐὰν ἵκηται, καὶ παντὶ τῷ ταὐτὸν ἴχνος μετιόντι.

58^ The tale given by Diog. 37, from Favorinus, that at the reading of the Phaedo all present, except Aristotle, gradually withdrew, is highly improbable. Philosophic interest and respect for the master cannot have been so scanty, even in Plato’s inferior scholars, as to allow of anything of the kind, least of all at the delivery of such a masterpiece. Besides, at the time when Aristotle was Plato’s pupil, the Phaedo must have been long published.

59^ Athenaeus xii. 547, d. sqq., quoting Antigonus Carystius, tells with some censure of the extravagance introduced by Lycon the Peripatetic at certain meals held on the first day of each month, to which the scholars contributed. They were connected with sacrifices to the Muses. Athenaeus continues, οὐ γὰρ ἵνα συρρυέντες ἐπὶ τὸ αὐτὸ τῆς ἕως ὄρθρου γενομένης τραπέζης ἀπολαύσωσιν ἢ χάριν ἐξοινίας ἐποιήσαντο τὰς συνόδους ταύτας οἱ περὶ Πλάτωνα καὶ Σπεύσιππον, ἀλλ᾽ ἵνα φαίνωνται καὶ τὸ θεῖον τιμῶντες καὶ μουσικῶς ἀλλήλοις συμπεριφερόμενοι, καὶ τὸ πλεῖστον ἕνεκεν ἀνέσεως καὶ φιλολογίας. It would appear from this that monthly banquets of the Muses were an institution of the Academy, and with them we may connect the well-known tale about the general Timotheus, who, after a meal with Plato, said, With such company one need fear no headaches tomorrow. (Plat. de sanitate tuenda 9, p. 127; Quaest. Conv. vi. proem.; Athen. x. 419 c.; Aelian, Varia Historia ii. 18, from the same source.) At all events, Athenaeus loc. cit. says, as of something well known, τὸ ἐν Άκαδημίᾳ δημίᾳ συμπόσιον, and so again I. 4 E, ἐν τῷ Πλάτωνος συσσιτίω. To what new Pythagorean, however, he is indebted for the information in the second passage that the number of the guests used to be 28 (4x7) he has not informed us.

60^ On which compare Part 1. 888.

61^ Anniceris is said to have bought for him the garden in the Academy, Dion defrayed the expenses for the purchase of the writings of Philolaus and for equipping a chorus (supra 24, 48; 20, 38; 4, 5). Not one of these accounts is sufficiently established, the two first only on feeble evidence. The statement of the 13th Plat. Let. 361 A sq. is quite worthless.

62^ Cf. p. 13. Of the illustrations given there, only the most apposite, Republic vi. 496 C, need be quoted here. In the present condition of society, says Plato, few ever succeed in devoting themselves to Philosophy and remaining true to her. καὶ τούτων δὴ τῶν ὀλίγων οἱ γενόμενοι καὶ γευσάμενοι ὡς ἡδὺ καὶ μακάριον τὸ κτῆμα, καὶ τῶν πολλῶν αὖ ἱκανῶς ἰδόντες τὴν μανίαν, καὶ ὅτι οὐδεὶς οὐδὲν ὑγιὲς ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν περὶ τὰ τῶν πόλεων πράττει οὐδ᾽ ἔστι ξύμμαχος μεθ᾽ ὅτου τις ἰὼν ἐπὶ τὴν τῷ δικαίῳ βοήθειαν σῴζοιτ᾽ ἄν, ἀλλ᾽ ὥσπερ εἰς θηρία ἄνθρωπος ἐμπεσών, οὔτε συναδικεῖν ἐθέλων οὔτε ἱκανὸς ὢν εἷς πᾶσιν ἀγρίοις ἀντέχειν, πρίν τι τὴν πόλιν ἢ φίλους ὀνῆσαι προαπολόμενος ἀνωφελὴς αὑτῷ τε καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις ἂν γένοιτο—ταῦτα πάντα λογισμῷ λαβών, ἡσυχίαν ἔχων καὶ τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττων, οἷον ἐν χειμῶνι κονιορτοῦ καὶ ζάλης ὑπὸ πνεύματος φερομένου ὑπὸ τειχίον ἀποστάς, ὁρῶν τοὺς ἄλλους καταπιμπλαμένους ἀνομίας, ἀγαπᾷ εἴ πῃ αὐτὸς καθαρὸς ἀδικίας τε καὶ ἀνοσίων ἔργων τόν τε ἐνθάδε βίον βιώσεται κ.τ.λ.

63^ ἀλλά τοι, is the rejoinder, loc. cit., οὐ τὰ ἐλάχιστα ἂν διαπραξάμενος ἀπαλλάττοιτο: to which Socrates replies, οὐδέ γε, εἶπον, τὰ μέγιστα, μὴ τυχὼν πολιτείας προσηκούσης: ἐν γὰρ προσηκούσῃ αὐτός τε μᾶλλον αὐξήσεται καὶ μετὰ τῶν ἰδίων τὰ κοινὰ σώσει. Cf. ibid. v. 473 C sq.

64^ It has truly been said of a series of men who distinguished themselves by their political activity that they came out of the Platonic school. However, even in antiquity, the opinions as regards the political character of this school were very divided; and if the admirers of Plato like Plutarch adv. Col. 32, 6, sqq. p. 1126, bring into connection with him as pupils as many as possible of the greatest statesmen of his time, not seldom exceeding the bounds of historical fact, it cannot be expected that adversaries like Athenaeus xi. 508, d. sqq., and his predecessors, will be precise about their evidence for the statement that the majority of the Platonic pupils were τυραννικοί τινες καὶ διάβξλοι. According to Plutarch loc. cit. Dion (concerning whom vide pp. 24, 46, 32 sq.) belonged to Plato’s pupils, together with Aristonymus, Phormio (Plutarch Praecepta. Reip. ger. 10, 15) and Menedemus, who respectively gave laws to the Arcadians, Eleans, and Pyrrhaeans (Menedemus is mentioned by the contemporary comedian Epicrates in Athenaeus, 59, d. in connection with Plato and Speusippus, in Plutarch Sto. Rep. 20, 6, p. 1043 in connection with Xenocrates); further Delius of Ephesus (called in Philostratus. Vit. Soph. 1, 3, p. 485 through a slip of the pen Δίας), who under Philip and Alexander was the active promoter of the expedition against Persia, together with Pytho and Heraclides of Aenos, the murderers of the Thracian king Cotys (Aristotle Politics v. 10, 1311 b. 20, mentions as such the brothers Parrhon and Heraclides, with whom Pytho appears to have connected himself), the first of whom is known as the speaker and agent of King Philip (cf. Steinhart, Life of Plato 195, 322, 16); both are cited as Platonists by Diogenes iii. 46. It must be from a confusion with the above-mentioned Heraclides, that Demetrius of Magnesia according to Diogenes v. 89 assigned the murder of a tyrant to Heraclides Ponticus, who bore the same name. Besides these we have Chio (the supposed writer of a letter in the Epist. Socrat.) and Leonides, who perished in the murder of the tyrant Clearchus of Heraclea (Justin xvi. 5, Suidas, Κλέαρχος, who adds to them as a third Antithens; opposed to this Memnon ap. Phot. Cod. 224, p. 225, a. 10 sqq., says that Lysimachus killed him and his brother, because they had murdered their mother); Euphraeus of Oreos (Suid. Eὐφρ.) about whose influence at the court of Perdiccas (to whom the Plat. epist. v. recommends him). Athenaeus it is true (loc. cit. cf. 506, E), according to Antigonus of Karystus, expresses himself very unfavourably, but who we learn from Demosth. Philipp. iii. p. 126 sqq. (by which Athenaeus’ account of his death is set right) was a martyr to Grecian liberty; Leo, who as statesman and commander defended his mother-city Byzantium against Philip. (Plut. Phoc. 14, Philostr. Vit. Soph. 1, 2. Suidas Λέων); Hermias, prince of Atarneus, the well-known friend of Aristotle (Diog. v. 3, 5 sqq. Strabo xiii. 1, 59, p. 610. Diodor. xvi. 52, Dionys. ep. ad. Arum. 1, 5. Suidas Ερμΰας. Part ii. b. 1b sqq. 2nd edit.). Besides these Diog. iii. 46, mentions Euaeon of Lampsacus and Timolaus of Cyzicus, both of whom according to Athenae. 508 sqq. (who calls the one Euagon and the other Timaeus) made unsuccessful attempts to usurp tyrannical power in their respective cities; Athenaeus adds to them Charon of Pellene as one of the profligate tyrants who came out of the school of Plato and Xenocrates, with what justice we do not know. According to Athenaeus loc. cit. Diog. iii. 46, Callippus, also, the murderer of Dion, was a scholar of Plato, which statement is opposed by the Plat. epist. vii. 333 C; Plut. Dion, 34. The Clearchus mentioned above, according to Suidas Κλέαρχ, attended the Academy only a short time. It is very improbable that Chabrias was a student of the Academy (Plutarch adv. Col. 32, 6, cf. Pseudo-Ammon, vita Arist. p. 10, Vest., who makes him out a relation of Plato’s). The account (λόγος in Diog. iii. 23 sq.) that Plato alone stood by him at his trial is worth little historically, as Aristotle Rhetoric iii. 10, 1411, p. 6, mentions another defender of Chabrias; and the defence which in Diogenes is put in the mouth of Plato obviously originated from the Apology, 28 K. Timotheus (Aelian, Varia Historia ii. 10, supra 28, 59) it is true was proved to be a friend but by no means a pupil of Plato; his relation to him cannot at all have been so intimate as Pseudo-Ammon loc. cit. would have it. Phocion in his younger days may have heard Plato, and later on Xenocrates (Plutarch Phocion, 4, adv. Col. 32, 6); with regard to the latter, however, he must have confined himself to being present at isolated discourses. Though Chameleon and Polemo in Diogenes iii. 46 represent the orators Hyperides and Lycurgus (of whom also the Pseudo-Plutarch vitze decem. Orat. vii. p. 841 makes the same assertion) as pupils of Plato, their speeches (as Steinhart remarks, Plato’s Life, 174 sqq.) show no proofs of the influence of Platonic thought and expression. Still less can we claim Aeschines for a pupil of Plato (with the scholiast on Aeschines de falsa legat. i., who appeals to Demetrius Phalereus, compare Apollon. Vit. Aesch. p. 14); and though Demosthenes, his great adversary, is variously stated, sometimes with greater and some times with less precision, to have been a pupil of Plato, still, however, in his orations no influence of Platonic philosophy appears, significant as may have been Plato’s influence on him as a stylist. (Plut. Demosth. 5, according to an anonymous writer in Hermippus, vita) X orat. viii. 3, p. 844. Mnesistratus in Diog. iii. 47. Cic. de Orat. i. 20, 80. Brut. 31, 121; Orat. iv. 15; Off. i. 4; Quintil. xii. 2, 22, 10, 24; Lucian, Encomium Demosthenis, 12, 47; Schol. in Demosth. contra Androt. 40; Olympiod. in Gorg. 166.) The 5th letter attributed to him does not make Demosthenes to speak as a Platonist. but only to express his good opinion of the Platonic school, under which he obviously does not include himself. Cf. Steinhart loc. cit. 175 sqq. Schäfer, Demosth. 1, 280 sqq.; and besides the authorities mentioned above, particularly Hermann, Plat. 74 sq., 119 sq. Steinhart, 171-189. With regard to the relations of Isocrates with Plato we shall speak later on (p. 345, 2, 2nd edit.). No one represents him as his pupil, as he was eight or nine years older than Plato, and their friendship asserted in Diogenes iii. 8, is established only for the earlier years of their lives by the writings of both.

65^ According to Plutarch, Ad principem ineruditum, i. p. 779; Lucullus, C 2; Aelian, Varia Historia xii. 30, the people of Cyrene (beside whom Diog. iii. 23 and Aelian, Varia Historia ii. 42, give the Arcadians and Thebans at the founding of Megalopolis) asked him for a scheme of laws; but he refused both, in the former case because Cyrene was too luxurious for him, in the latter because he perceived ἴσον ἔχειν οὐ θέλοντας, οὐ πείσειν αὐτοὺς τιμᾶν τὴν ἰςονομίαν. The last statement is very improbable, for Plato would without doubt have given them a constitution just as little democratic as they gave themselves; and moreover it is incredible that Epaminondas, who after the victory of Leuctra promoted the founding of Megalopolis for the protection of Arcadia against Sparta, should have invited an Athenian, and particularly so spoken a friend of Sparta as Plato undoubtedly was, to lay down the new constitution. The absurd 11th Platonic letter cannot come under consideration as historical evidence.

66^ Plato himself lays it down as a necessary condition, that philosophers should not withdraw from politics. The corresponding duty is an immediate consequence. And that this duty should only be binding with regard to one’s own state, would hardly be a maxim with one so fully possessed by his political ideal as Plato.

67^ This happened Ol. 103, 1, at the beginning of the winter, and therefore 368 B.C. Diodor. xv. 73 sq. Plato’s journey must be assigned to the following year Cic. de Sen. 12, 41 (with which cf. Part i. p. 244, 3) dates it, or at all events, according to Fin. v. 29, 87, the first journey, 405 A.U.C., which needs no refutation.

68^ Ep. Plat. vii. 327 B sqq.; ii. 311 E; iii. 316 C sq.; Plut. Dion, 10 sq. (cf. c. princ. Phil. 4, 6, p. 779), who adds that the Pythagoreans in Italy joined their entreaties to Dion’s. Cf. Corn. Nep., Dion, C 3, &c. The 7th Platonic letter is certainly not trustworthy, and all the following ones depend on it. What other sources of information Plutarch may have had we do not know. That Plato, however, did make a second and a third journey to Sicily cannot be doubted. The testimony is unanimous; and if he had not taken the journey, the composer of the letter would have had no reason for defending him on that score. That his motives were actually those ascribed to him is probable in itself, and made more so by the whole political situation; and this is borne out by the passage in the Laws, iv. 709 E sqq, in which Hermann, p. 69, rightly recognises an expression of the hopes which led Plato to Syracuse. These hopes, he later on maintains in regard to their universal foundation, even though they were not accomplished on that particular occasion.

69^ Diogenes’ counter-statement iii. 21, that he asked Dionysius for land and people towards the realisation of his state, is certainly false. Apul. dogm Pl. 4 is a misunderstanding.

70^ More detailed information but of doubtful worth may be found in Plut. Dion 13 De Adulatione 7, p. 52, 26, p. 67; Pliny Natural History vii. 30; Aelian, Varia Historia iv. 18; Nepos, loc. cit. The alleged meeting of Plato and Aristippus at the Syracusan Court has been already discussed, Part I. pp. 291, 2; 312, 3.

71^ Ep. Plat. iii. 229 B sqq., iii. 318 C; Plutarch Dion 14, 16; Diog. iii. 21 sq. The latter assigns to this journey what, according to better authorities, happened in the third; and he therefore puts an incident in the first, which Plutarch relates of the second. Cf. also Stobaeus, Florilegium, 13, 36, who, however, connects with it a circumstance generally told of Dionysius and Aristippus.

72^ Dion, who appears in the two previous journeys as Plato’s enthusiastic admirer, had, according to Plutarch, Dion 17, become still more intimate with him during a long stay at Athens, in the course of which he also became a close friend of Speusippus.

73^ Ep. Plat. iii. 316 D sqq.; vii. 330 B; 33 D; 337 E sqq.; and from these sources Plutarch, Dion 18-20; Maximus Tyrius, Dissertationes xxi. 9; Diog. 23. The particulars are uncertain; the letter of Archytas ap. Diog. 22 is certainly spurious. According to Plut. c. 22 (cf. Ep. Plat. ii. 314 D) Speusippus accompanied him to Syracuse; according to Diog., Xenocrates. He is said to have left the conduct of his school at Athens during his absence to Heraclides. (Suidas, voc. ’Ηρακλείδης.) The Epistolae Heraclidis, quoted there by Ast, and even by Brandis the former in Pl. Leben u. Schr. p. 30, the latter Gr.-Röm. Phil. ii. a. 145 — do not exist. The quotation is due to a misunderstanding of Tennemann’s words, Plat. Phil. i. 54; ’Suidas in Heraclides Epistol. (Platonicae sc.) ii. p. 73, (Bipont.).

74^ According to Ep. vii. 350 B (cf. p. 345 D) this must be dated in the spring of 360 K.C., for he is said to have met Dion at the Olympic games (which can only be those of the year named) and informed him of events in Syracuse. His hither journey would then be 361. Cf. Herm. p. 66.

75^ Plutarch, adv. Col. 32, 6, p. 1126. Cic. de Orat. iii. 34, 139, and Aelian, Varia Historia iii. 17, represent the impulse as coming from Plato. But this is an exaggerated inference from Ep. Plat. vii. 326 E. Cf. Ep. iv. Dion found warm support from Speusippus and other Platonists, Plut. Dio. 22, 17. His companion and subsequent enemy, Callippus, is noticed as a scholar of Plato’s (vide p. 31).

76^ Athenaeus, xi. 506, indeed says that he was intimate with Archelaus of Macedonia, and later on, paved the way for Philip’s supremacy: so that we might infer his sympathies to have been in general with the Macedonian party. As regards Archelaus, however, the statement is refuted by chronology, and by the Gorgias, 470 D sq.; and the alleged support of Philip narrows itself down, even on Athenzens’s own quotations, to the circumstance that Plato’s scholar Euphraeus had obtained for Philip a certain territory from Perdiccas, and this Philip used for the furtherance of greater designs. Any personal intercourse between Plato and Philip there does not seem to have been. Aelian, Varia Historia iv. 19, certainly says that Philip paid honour to Plato, as to other learned men; but, according to Speusippus ap. Athen. loc. cit., and Diog. 40, he expressed himself unfavourably about him.

77^ Cf. (besides what has been quoted, p. 32, 65, and about his relation, to Dion and Dionysius) Diogenes, 25, and what will be presently remarked on the extension of the Platonic school.

78^ Of his literary works this is expressly witnessed (vid. supr. p. 3, and Diog. 37; Dionys. comp. verb. p. 208; Quint, viii. 6, 64; on which however cf. Susemihl, Gen. Ent. 11, 90 sq.). And we may safely conclude that it was the same with his activity as teacher. The alleged interruption of his work by Aristotle will be discussed later in the life of that philosopher.

79^ Cicero, de Senect. 5, 13.

80^ Hermippus ap. Diog. iii. 2. Augustine, C. D. viii. 2. Suid. voc. Πλάτ. Cicero’s scribens est mortuus, loc. cit., is not at variance with this latter, if we remember that it need not be taken literally. According to Diog. 40, a certain Philo had used the proverbial expression Πλάτωνος φθῖρες; and Myronianus concluded from this that Plato died of φθειρίασις, as it is said Pherecydes and others did. Of course this is false. Perhaps the expression comes originally from the place in the Sophist, 227 B; or the passage may at least have given a handle to the story. As to Plato’s burial, monument, and will, vide Diog. iii. 25, 41 sqq. Olymp. 6; Pausan. 1, 30, 3;Herm. p. 125, 197.

81^ One of these critics of Plato was Timeeus the Locrian, Plut. Nic. 1; two others we shall meet with in Aristoxenus and Theopompus, the pupils of Isocrates, who, in this way, retaliated for the attacks of Plato and the Platonists on Isocrates and Rhetoric: cf. Dion. Hal. ep. ad Pomp. p. 757; De praec. Hist. 782; Athen. xi. 508 c. Epict. Diss. 11, 17, 5.

82^ Ap. Diog. iii. 26 sq.; Athen. ii. 59 c. sq.; xi. 509 c.

83^ Vita beata, 18, 1.

84^ Vide Diog. 29; Aelian, Varia Historia iv. 21; Athen. xiii. 589 c., and supra, p. 8, 8. Even Dion is here called his favourite; and an epitaph is quoted, which Plato (at the age of seventy-three) is said to have composed on his friend, who must have been sixty at least. That Antisthenes alluded to some amours of Plato’s by the title of his Σάθων is a mere arbitrary conjecture. The censure of Dicaearchus ap. Cicero, Tusc. iv. 34, 71, is levelled not at his character, but his philosophy. On the other hand, Suidas, p. 3000, ed. Gaisford, affirms that he never entered into any sexual relations. But this, again, can only be a dogmatic invention, originating with the asceticism of later schools.

85^ The only hostility that can be demonstrated, however, is between Antisthenes and Plato; vide Part i. 255, and supra, p. 18, 31. Antisthenes is allowed on all hands to have been the aggressor, and always to have displayed the greater vehemence and passion. The assertion that Plato behaved ill to Aeschines has been discussed, Part i. p. 107, 6; 204, 3; and his alleged neglect of him in Sicily (Diog. ii. 61) is contradicted by Plut. de Adul. c. 26, p. 67. He certainly passed censure on Aristippus, vide Part i. p. 242; but it was well merited, and we may well believe there was no love lost between them, even though the anecdotes of their meeting in Syracuse (vide Part i. p. 291, 2) do not tell us much, and the accounts of a certain Hegesander ap. Athen. xi. 507 b. still less. At all events, what we do know cannot turn to Plato’s disadvantage. We get repeated assertions of an enmity existing between Plato and Xenophon (Diog. iii. 34; Gell. N. A. xiv. 3; Athen. xi. 504 e.). But Böckh has shown (de simultate qua) Platoni cum Xenophonte intercepisse fertur, Berlin, 1811) how little ground there is for such a belief in the writings of either; and the writings are the only real authority. Most likely the whole story is an invention. Cf. Steinhart, Pl. L. 93 sq.

86^ Dionysius ad Pompeium, p. 775 sq.; Athen. xi. 500 a. sqq.; Antisthenes and Diogenes ap. Diog. vi. 7, 20; Aristides de quatuorviris. The accusation is mainly grounded on Plato’s writings, which cannot be said to justify it, however one-sided many of his judgments may be. The conscious superiority, to which he had a real right, may have been too prominent in particular cases; even disadvantageously so, some times, for others. Cf. the quotation from Aristotle, Part i. p. 289, 2. But this can hardly bear out such accusations as the above. Of the anecdotes given in Plutarch de adul. c. 32, p. 70; Aelian, Varia Historia xiv. 33 (Diog. vi. 40); the first is irrelevant, the second certainly untrue; and what Hermippus ap. Athen. xi. 505 d., gives, looks unhistorical too. Aristoxenus apud Diog. ix. 40, taxes Plato with the childish design of buying up and destroying the writings of Democritus. But of this we may unhesitatingly acquit him. Aristoxenus is too untrustworthy a witness; and we may at least credit Plato with the sense to see that a widely spread mode of thought could not be abolished by own distaste for merely material science and his general disparagement of such studies may perhaps account for his never mentioning the physicist of Abdera.

87^ Hegesander ap. Athen. xi. 507 a. sq.; the falsehood of the statements need not be pointed out to any reader of the Phaedo or the Symposium. The dream of Socrates related ibid, is a malicious parody of that mentioned above, p. 9, 15.

88^ The seventh Platonic letter is a refutation of such charges. According to Diog. iii. 34; vi. 25, the charges were openly made even in Plato’s lifetime.

89^ Vide p. 23, 45.

90^ Philostr. v. Apoll. 1, 35; Diog. iii. 9. The anonymous assertion in Arsen. Violet, ed. Katz, 508, and the Florilegium Monacense (Stob. Flor. cd. Meineke, T. iv. 285), No. 227, that in old age he became avaricious, is of the same kind. Seneca, v. 0, 27, 5, remarks that he was reproached for taking money. Others say (v. supr. Part i. p. 312, 3; and Diog. ii. 81) that he did not do so even at Syracuse. The seventh letter recognises no reason for defending him against the charge.

91^ Diog. vi. 58. Against which it is unnecessary to refer to Plut. Dion 13, 19, and the quotations on p. 24, 47.

92^ The quotations given by Athenaeus, xi. 500 e. sqq., 508 d. sqq., have but little importance. Some are plainly untrue (vide supra, p. 34, 76), or misrepresentations; and the rest, even if true, would not have much reference to Plato himself. On the other hand, we may see from the places quoted, pp. 29, 62; 32, 68, that Plato had occasion to explain his political inactivity and his relation to the younger Dionysius. And we may expect to find that both were cast in his teeth, just as his political idealism and his preference for aristocratic government must necessarily have given offence. Cf. also Rep. v. 472 A, 473 C, E.

93^ Cf. the list of offences in Athen. v. c. 55, 57-61; the correction of which we may spare ourselves, together with the absurd complaints about the fictitious speeches which he puts in the mouth of Socrates and others: xi. 505 e. 507 c.; Diog. 35.

94^ So he is said to have borrowed from Philolaus writings for his Timaeus (v. supr. 20, 38), and from a work of Protagoras tor the Republic (Aristox. and Phav. ap. Diog. iii. 37, 57). According to Porphyry ap. Euseb. Praeparatio Evangelica, x. 3, 24, he is indebted to the same source for his objections to the Eleatics. Alcimus ap. Diog. iii. 9 sq., reproached him with having taken the foundations of his system from Epicharmus: Theopompus, ap. Athen. xi. 508 c., said that he borrowed most of his dialogues from Aristippus, Antisthenes, and Bryso. With regard to Epicharmus, the assertion is groundless, as has been shown in Vol. i. 428 sq. To the statements of Aristoxenus and Theopompus no one who knows the untrustworthiness of the writers will be inclined to give much weight. The statement of the former (whom his assertions about Socrates already sufficiently characterise, supra, 51 sq., 48, 54, 6, 59, 5} is improbable on the face of it; if true at all, it can only have reference to some unimportant points. And the same applies to Theopompus’s story (cf. supra, 36, 81), apart from the common Socratic element, which Plato did not need to borrow of anyone. Porphyry’s assertion may possibly have some basis of truth; but it can hardly redound to Plato’s discredit. Finally, if Plato was indebted to Philolaus for the construction of the elements and other details of physical science in the Timaeus, and for the deductions as to the limit and the illimitable in the Philebus, we can find no fault with him for this in itself; and in both cases he has sufficiently pointed out his sources in making a general reference to the Pythagoreans, even if he has not named Philolaus.

95^ Vide preceding note.

96^ Vide supra; p. 20, 02; cf. Ritter ii. 171 sqq.

97^ He not only took no fees for his teaching (Diog. iv. 2, and Proleg. c. 5, cf. p. 314, 4), strongly disapproving of the Sophists conduct in this respect (vide Vol. i. p. 888 sq.), but he also censured the form in which the Sophistic doctrine was enunciated (Protag. 328 E sqq.; 334 C sq.; Gorg. 449 B. sq.; Hipp. Min. 373 A. Cf. supra, p. 26, 51).

98^ Cf. Diog. 40: ἐξετόπιζε δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς τὰ πλεῖστα, καθά τινες φασί. Olymp. c. 6.

99^ Cf. Specially Rep. iii. 403 E sq.; Gorg. 464 D.

100^ Vide the places quoted p. 28, 59; and Diog. 39. In the same connection we may notice the doubtful tale in Stobaeus, Flor. 17, 36 (attributed to Pythagoras by Flor. Monac. 231), of his pouring away the water with which he meant to quench his thirst, as an exercise of self-denial.

101^ Plato is indeed said not to have disdained a certain amount of luxury in domestic management (Diog. vi. 26) some of his pupils were ridiculed by contemporary comic writers on account of their fine clothes and their haughty behaviour. (Athenae. xi. 509 xii. 544 sq.) On the other hand, Seneca ad Helv. 12, 4, says that Plato only had three slaves; his Will in Diog. iii. 42 mentions five.

102^ An epitaph in Diog. 43 calls him σωφροσύνῃ προφέρων θνητῶν ἤθει τε δικαίῳ.

103^ To this belongs the well-known tale, that Plato asked a friend to chastise his slave because he himself was angry. Another version is, that he said to the slave himself, ’Luckily for you, I am angry, or you would get stripes.’ Plut. de educatione puerorum, 14, p. 10; de sera numinis vindicta, 5, p. 551. Sen. de Ira iii. 12, 5; Diog. 38 sq.; Stob. Flor. 20, 43, 57; Flor. Mon. 234. Perhaps it is with reference to this story that Themistius, Or. 2, 30 d., holds him up as a model of gentleness.

104^ Cf. the quotations in Part i. p. 286, 9.

105^ A beautiful instance is given by Aelian, Varia Historia iv. 9.0

106^ Heraclides ap. Diog. 2G tells us, that in his youth he never allowed himself to laugh immoderately; and Aelian, Varia Historia iii. 35, says laughter was forbidden in the Old Academy. We need not take either of these statements literally, but they show that Plato was regarded as a very serious character. Another instance is given by Seneca, de Ira ii. 21, 10.

107^ Olympiodorus says (C 6) of Plato and Homer, δύο γὰρ ἇται ψυχαὶ λέγονται γενέσθαι παναρ?όνιοι.

108^ E.g. Republic iii. 401 B sq.; 03 C. Philebus 64 C sq.; 66 A.

109^ Cf. also Panaetius ap. Cicero, Tusculanae Disputationes i. 32, 79, and the verses of Aristotle quoted, ii. 9, 2, 2nd edit.

110^ Epictetus Dissertations i. 8, 13, καλὸςονΠλάτωνκαὶἰσχυρός. Further cf. Apul. dogm. Plat, 1, and the quotations supra 339, 1, 242, 2, on Plato’s build and gymnastic dexterity. Among the portraits of Plato (on which see Visconti, Iconographie Grecque, i. 169 [228] sq.), the statuette, a drawing of which Jahn after Braun, Mon. Ined. d. Instit. iii. 7, had prefixed to his edition of the Symposium (the original has vanished), is the only one which bears his name and displays any likeness. Other supposed busts of Plato represent Asclepios or the bearded Dionysos. Phavorinus in Diog. iii. 25 mentions a statue on his tomb by Silanion. According to Plutarch De Adulatore et Amico c. 9, p. 53, Plato had high shoulders which his affected admirers tried to imitate, and according to Diog. 5, a thin clear voice.

111^ This view had influence in the celebration of his birthday feast, and perhaps even in the particular date assigned for it: vide supr. 338, 1. We find from Diog. 2 (Olympiodorus i. Prolegomena 1), Plutarch, Qu. Conv. viii. 1, 2, 4: Apul. dogm. Pl. 1, Aelian, Varia Historia x. 21, that even in Speusippus time the tale went that Plato was a son of Apollo. As throwing light on the origin of these stories, Steinhart (Platon’s Leben, 8, 36, 282) refers to the Greek cultus of heroes, and particularly to the similar stories about Alexander; he indeed conjectures that it was owing to these same stories that people wished to place Plato as a spirit-hero beside the deified world-conqueror; for we cannot believe that this legend belongs to the time of Speusippus. I think we are not entitled to deny the possibility of this; especially as the stories about Pythagoras offer a still closer parallel than the stories about Alexander (cf. Vol. i. 265 sq.). However, it cannot be proved that the further amplification of the myth was already known to Speusippus, according to which a vision had forbidden Aristo to touch his wife before the birth of her first child. At the most important crisis of his life he is said to have been introduced to Socrates by a significant dream as the swan of Apollo, supra, p. 0, 15. he himself dreamed, just before his death (according to Olymp. Proleg. 2), that he had become a swan. We may recognise the theme of all these myths in the Phaedo, 85 B. Later writers compare him, as Physician of Soul with Apollo’s other son, Asclepius, the Physician of the Body. (Cf. Diog. 45; the idea can hardly be his own; out of his epigram Olymp. 6 makes an epitaph; and the Proleg. 6, with some additions, an oracle. The pleasing story (given in Cic. Div. i. 36, 78, Val. Max. i. 6, ex. 3; Olymp. 1), of the bees on Hymettus feeding the child Plato with their honey, is brought by the Proleg. C 2, into connection with a sacrifice to the shepherd god Apollo. Probably, however, it had an independent origin in the Apolline myth, as a natural symbol for one from whose lips, as from Nestor’s flowed forth speech, sweeter than honey.

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Chapter II. Plato’s Writings

The most eloquent monument of the Platonic spirit, and the most important source for our knowledge of the Platonic doctrine, are in the writings of the philosopher himself.1 His literary activity extends over the greater part of his life, a period of more than fifty years,2 — and by a special favour of Fortune, it has so happened that not one of the works which he intended for publicity has been lost. This is at any rate a |46| reasonable inference from the fact that no reliable traces of the existence of any Platonic writing no longer in our possession has come down to us; for the spuriousness of the lost dialogues of which we do hear3 is beyond question,4 and some other writings which might be supposed to be Platonic, the Divisions (διαιρέσεις),5 |47| discourses about Philosophy, and about the Good,6 the |48| ‘unwritten doctrines’7 — originally never claimed to be the works of Plato at all.8 There is no ground even for |49| thinking that any Platonic writing was ever more complete than it is now.9

Fortune has indeed bestowed less care on the purity of the Platonic collection. Even the learned among the Greeks regarded as spurious several of the writings that bore Plato’s name;10 the critics of our own century, |50| sometimes unanimously, sometimes by an overwhelming majority, have rejected a still greater number; others are yet upon their trial, and among these, as formerly happened on the first appearance of Ast11 and Socher,12 is to be found more than one work the repudiation of which would considerably affect our apprehension of the Platonic philosophy. Though an exhaustive investigation of this subject would exceed the limits of the present treatise, we must to a certain extent examine it, and notice the points of view on which our judgment of it depends. With regard then first to the external evidence, from the consideration of which every such enquiry must start, — by far the most important is that of Aristotle. For setting this aside, very few remarks of ancient authors concerning the works of Plato have been handed down to us,13 either from his own or |51| the succeeding century; and these relate almost entirely writings which Aristotle, too, distinctly ascribes to Plato. Towards the end of the third century, Aristophanes of Byzantium first arranged a portion of the works in those five Trilogies which we know from Diog. iii. 61:14 and fully two centuries later, Thrasylus made a catalogue of them in nine Tetralogies,15 which catalogue, with a few very unimportant exceptions, contains all the writings transmitted to us as Platonic.16 Grote17 thinks we may place entire confidence, not only in the statements of Aristophanes, but even in the catalogue of Thrasylus. It cannot be supposed, he argues, that the school of Athens, which was continued in an |52| unbroken line from its commencement, should not have been, completely and accurately informed of all that its founder had written. On the contrary, there can be no doubt that his very handwriting was carefully preserved there; and the members of the Academy were thus in a position to furnish the most trustworthy information to anyone who sought it, concerning the authenticity or the text of a Platonic work. Such an opportunity would surely not have been neglected by Demetrius Phalereus and his successors at the founding of the Alexandrian Library. They would either have procured copies of the original manuscripts of Plato, or have instituted enquiries in Athens as to the authenticity of the works which they received into their collection, causing a catalogue to be made of all the undoubted writings; and since Aristophanes certainly and Thrasylus probably, followed in their catalogues the Alexandrian tradition, the statements of these writers may be fairly supposed entitled to a high degree of credit. This theory, however, rests wholly upon a series of uncertain presuppositions. It may be that the original manuscripts of Plato, or copies of his works used by himself, were preserved in the Academy, though not a particle of historical evidence on the subject exists; but even supposing such to have been the case, who can guarantee that not only Plato’s personal disciples, but their successors, were so convinced of the completeness of their collection, and so jealously watchful over its purity, as to deny admittance to every book not included in it, and represented to them as Platonic? Not to mention that there are many conceivable |53| cases in which the manuscript collection in possession of the school might have to be completed by genuine Platonic works.18 And granted that the Academy had indeed never admitted any spurious writing into their library, how can we be sure that the Alexandrian librarians were equally scrupulous? They certainly might, on the above presupposition, have informed themselves in Athens as to the works which were there acknowledged to be authentic, but how can we know that they actually did this? There is not the slightest warrant for the assertion; but on the other hand we are told that the high prices paid for writings in Alexandria and Pergamus gave great encouragement to forgery,19 and that in particular many works were |54| falsely attributed to Aristotle, in order that they might be bought by Ptolemy Philadelphia.20 When we further consider the state of literary criticism in the post Aristotelian period, it seems unreasonable to credit the Alexandrians with having tested the authenticity of works bearing illustrious names, so carefully and accurately as Grote presupposes. The catalogues of Aristophanes and Thrasylus therefore merely prove that the writings they include were held to be Platonic at the time of these grammarians; whether they really were so or not, can only be determined by a particular enquiry into each work, according to the general rules of criticism.

The statements of Aristotle afford a much safer criterion;21 but even with regard to these, the case is by no means so simple as might be supposed. In the first place, it is sometimes doubtful whether the writing or the passage which refers to a saying of Plato’s in truth emanates from Aristotle; and this doubt has already destroyed or weakened the argumentative force of some quotations.22 But even though the Aristotelian is |55| authorship of a passage apparently relating to Platonic writings be fully established, the reference is not |56| always of a kind that implies an unequivocal recognition of the writings. If not merely the name of the writing is given, but also that of the author; if Aristotle says, Plato remarks in the Timaeus, Republic,23 etc., there can of course be no hesitation as to his meaning. But not unfrequently the writing in which some passage is to be found is named without mention of its author; or conversely, utterances and opinions are ascribed to Plato, and nothing is stated concerning the writings in which they occur; or lastly, reference is made to theories and expressions contained in our Platonic collection, and yet there is no allusion either to Plato as their author, or to a particular writing as their source.24 It also happens sometimes that a passage from some dialogue is quoted with an express mention of the dialogue, and yet is attributed to Socrates, and not to Plato.25 In all these cases, the question arises whether or not we can claim Aristotelian evidence for the Platonic origin of the writings concerned; but a portion of them only need occasion us any serious doubt. If Aristotle, in naming a dialogue, remarks ‘Socrates |57| here maintains this or that,’ he always means by it that Plato in this dialogue has put the remark into the mouth of Socrates. For not only does he employ the same mode of expression as to writings which he elsewhere most emphatically attributes to Plato,26 but he never quotes an opinion or a saying of Socrates from any writing that is not in our Platonic collection; though he must certainly have been acquainted with the Socratic dialogues of Xenophon, Aeschines, and Antisthenes.27 Indeed the Socratic utterances are regarded by him as so completely identical with Plato’s works, that he even designates the Laws as Socratic,28 although Socrates never appears in them, and is probably not intended by the Athenian stranger; and he quotes views which were entirely originated by Plato and put in the mouth of his master, simply as the views of Socrates,29 without any discrimination of the |58| Platonic from the historic Socrates. If, therefore, a dialogue in our collection is thus treated by Aristotle we may be certain that he considers it a work of Plato.30 The same holds good as to dialogues which are cited without the name either of Socrates or Plato.31 This kind of quotation only presupposes that the writing in question is known to the reader, and will not be mistaken for anything else; we therefore find it employed |59| about other works that are universally famous32 but among the philosophic writings which Aristotle mentions in this way, there is none which does not belong to our Platonic collection: the Platonic writings, as before remarked, are the only writings of the Socratic school to which he ever refers. This circumstance makes it extremely probable that Aristotle really intends to ascribe all the writings quoted by him in this form to Plato, otherwise we should certainly have had a right to expect that those which he considered spurious, especially if in their style and treatment they might claim to be Platonic, would not have been introduced without some hint as to the true state of the case. For he could not presuppose this to be necessarily known to his readers.33

As to those passages which attribute to Plato or Socrates theories and sayings to be met with in the Platonic writings, but which do not mention the writings, Aristotle himself very often furnishes us with a proof that he is really referring to these by his use of the present tense: ‘Plato maintains,’ ‘Socrates says,’ and the like.34 When he employs this form of expression, it is a sure indication that he has in his mind those Socratic or Platonic discourses which are laid down in writings;35 and when we find these very discourses in a work that tradition assures us to be Platonic, it is hardly possible to doubt that this is the work to which the quotation relates. An appeal of this kind to Socratic or Platonic utterances, therefore, if these conditions fully obtain, has no less force than the literal mention of the particular writing, and the express acknowledgment of its Platonic origin. On the other hand, however, we must not conclude that Aristotle, whenever he makes use of the preterite in mentioning a doctrine of Socrates or Plato, refers only indirectly or not at all,36 to the writings that contain it. Several cases are here to be distinguished. In the first place, the perfect tense may properly be employed, and is very commonly employed by Aristotle, in quoting the sayings of Plato, or of the Platonic Socrates, from a writing.37 It is somewhat different with the narrative forms — the imperfect and aorist. These are only used in respect to Socrates when some theory is to be ascribed to the historic Socrates, supposing it to have become known to Aristotle through certain writings.38 For it might very well be said of the Platonic Socrates that he maintains something (in the present), or that something is in question as said by him (in the perfect), but not that he formerly has said something, because as this ideal person he exists for the reader of the Platonic writings, and for him only, in the present; he has no existence independently of the reader and belonging to the past. If, however, Plato himself is mentioned as having said or thought something, this consideration has no longer any force. His utterances |62| are not merely sayings which are present to us in his works, but also acts which he completed in the compilation of those works; in that case, therefore, a historic tense, as well as a present, might be used in quoting them. Though this does not occur very frequently, it is sometimes to be met with,39 and we have consequently no right to conclude from the use of the preterite in the quotation of a Platonic saying, that it is not derived from any written work.40

But there are also many passages in Aristotle where neither Plato nor any one of his dialogues is mentioned, but which have internal evidence to show that Aristotle in writing them had definitely in view particular works of Plato, and which very often allude to these41 unmistakably, though indirectly. The |63| argumentative value of these passages can only be determined in each case by an appeal to the ordinary rules of criticism. The more perfect is the coincidence |64| between the passage in Aristotle and the corresponding passage of a Platonic dialogue, and the less reason we have for supposing that the author of the dialogue made use of the Aristotelian writing, the clearer it becomes that the dialogue in question was known to Aristotle, and the greater the probability that this, like other portions of our Platonic collection, similarly quoted and employed, was recognised by him as genuine.

Among the writings that have been transmitted to us as Platonic, those which are most frequently criticised by Aristotle, with continual mention both of the author and the dialogue, are the three great expository works the Republic, the Timaeus, and the Laws. Besides these, the Phaedo only is expressly designated by him as a work of Plato.42 The Phaedrus is once named,43 and its definition of the soul is twice quoted as Platonic.44 The speech of Aristophanes from the Symposium is treated in a manner that presupposes the authenticity of that dialogue;45 and the same may be said of the allusions to the Gorgias, Meno, and |65| Lesser Hippias.46 The Theaetetus is not actually mentioned, but passages are adduced as from Platonic writings, which are only there to be found.47 Similarly the Philebus is not named by Aristotle; but in certain passages of his Ethics he evidently has it in mind,48 and in one of these passages he cites expressly from a Platonic exposition, propositions which the Philebus alone contains.49 We therefore cannot doubt that he |66| was acquainted with this dialogue and recognised its authenticity. There are also in the writings of Aristotle many indications, which sometimes taken independently, sometimes in their coincidence,50 |67| unmistakably prove that both the Sophist51 and the Politicus52 |68| were regarded by him as Platonic; and as the Politico is plainly referred to in the Laws,53 it has the further support of all the evidence on the side of the latter. |69| it is clear from the Rhetoric that the Apology was acknowledged by Aristotle; but some doubt exists with |70| regard to the Menexenus.54 He nowhere mentions the Parmenides; there is only one minor particular, which may possibly be quoted from it.55 But if the Philebus really alludes to the Parmenides,56 the evidence for the one dialogue would indirectly apply to the other. The Protagoras, too, is never specified; but it was apparently known to Aristotle,57 and used by him as a |71| historical authority.58 He seems also to have been acquainted with the Lysis, Charmides, and Laches; though this is not so certain as in the case of the Protagoras.59 It is still more doubtful whether or not two passages relate to the Cratylus60 and the Greater Hippias.61 The Euthydemus is indeed referred to by Eudemus;62 but the fallacies which Aristotle quotes from the sophist of that name63 are not to be found in the Platonic dialogue; and though certainly on the |72| supposition of its genuineness, we should expect Aristotle to have used it in his examination of fallacies which often brought him in contact with it,64 this relation of the two expositions is not sufficiently established to serve as proof for the authenticity of the Euthydemus.

If, then, any dialogue in our collection is mentioned by Aristotle as Platonic, or used by him in a manner that presupposes it to be so, this circumstance is greatly in favour of its authenticity. For twenty years before the death of Plato, Aristotle was a member of the Platonic School at Athens; after that event he quitted the city, but returned twelve or thirteen years later for the rest of his life. That during the lifetime of the master any writing should have been falsely regarded as his work, by scholars who were already well instructed on the subject, or had the opportunity at any moment of becoming so, is quite impossible. Even in the generation succeeding his death, while Speusippus and Xenocrates were at the head of the Academy, and Aristotle and other personal disciples of Plato lived in Athens, this could only have occurred under quite peculiar conditions, and to a very limited extent. It is indeed conceivable that some one of the less important dialogues might after the death of Plato have been admitted even by his immediate disciples without previous acquaintance with it, as an earlier work that had escaped their attention, or under certain circumstances as a posthumous bequest. Cases of this kind have occurred in our own times, though we are so much richer than the ancients in resources, and more |73| practised in literary criticism. It might still more easily happen that an imperfect sketch of Plato’s, completed by another after his death — an unfinished writing, worked up by one of his disciples — might be received as wholly genuine, without accurate discrimination of the original from the later ingredients. But it is incredible that such things should frequently have repeated themselves in the first generation after the master’s death; or that reputed works of his, which, had they existed, must on account of their importance have been owned during his lifetime by the School, should afterwards have emerged, and have been universally recognised. If the testimony of Aristotle to Platonic writings, so far as it is clear and undoubted, does not absolutely guarantee their authenticity, it is at all events so strong an argument in their favour, that only the weightiest internal evidence should be suffered to countervail it; and if any criticism of the Platonic collection starts from presuppositions requiring the rejection of numerous works recognised by Aristotle, there is enough in this one circumstance to prove these presuppositions incorrect.

But if the evidence of Aristotle has this importance on the side of the writings from which he quotes, can we with certainty conclude that those about which he is silent are spurious? No one would maintain this without some qualification. Aristotle is not passing judgment on Plato’s works as a literary historian who is bound to furnish a complete catalogue of them, and to tell all that he knows. Nor does he deal with them as a modern writer of the history of philosophy, whose object |74| it is to combine their whole philosophic content into a representation of the Platonic theory; he only mentions them when occasion offers, in stating his own views, or criticising or opposing those of Plato and Socrates. We must not expect him, therefore, to name everything that is known to him as Platonic, but only such writings as it was necessary or desirable to mention for the purposes of any scientific discussion he might happen to be pursuing. Even this canon, however, must be cautiously applied. Plato’s works are for us the sole, or at any rate the principal, source of our knowledge concerning his system: we cannot speak of the Platonic philosophy without continually recurring to them. In the case of Aristotle it was otherwise. He owes his knowledge of the Platonic doctrines in the first place to verbal communication and personal intercourse; in the second place only, to the writings of Plato. They were to him but subsidiary sources; in the exposition of the doctrines, he uses them sometimes for the confirmation of that which he already knows from Plato’s oral discourses; but he has no occasion to enter more deeply into their contents except on subjects which were not examined in those discourses. Of such subjects, the most important seem to be the application of philosophical principles to the explanation of nature and to political institutions: hence the numerous quotations from the Republic, the Timaeus, and the Laws. The metaphysical bases of the system, on the other hand are indeed frequently and searchingly criticised by Aristotle, but in by far the greater number of cases on the ground of Plato’s discourses: the propaedeutic enquiries |75| into the conception of knowledge, true virtue, and the art of governing, love, the right scientific method, and its opposition to the Sophistic teaching, are seldom touched upon. Only one65 of the many passages from which we derive our knowledge of the theory of ideas is quoted by him; he makes no allusion to what is said on this subject in the Republic, Timaeus, Symposium, Phaedrus, and Theaetetus; nor to the explanations of the Sophist, Parmenides, and Philebus, though there was abundant opportunity for it. Even the well-known discussions of the Republic upon the Good are merely glanced at with an uncertain hint,66 despite the frequent occasions when they might have been aptly introduced. If we turn to those dialogues the authenticity of which has never been questioned, we find the Protagoras, as before remarked,67 apparently made use of in some passages, but it is never named, and nothing is quoted from it as Platonic. The Theaetetus is twice mentioned, the Gorgias and the Symposium once; and none of these quotations relate to the main content of the dialogues they are only incidental recollections of certain particulars in them, the notice of which seems entirely fortuitous. All this being considered, we may well hesitate to conclude from Aristotle’s silence with regard to any Platonic writing, that he was unacquainted with it;68 and this so much the more, as we do not even possess the whole of Aristotle’s |76| works, and some lost writing or fragment might very possibly contain citations from dialogues for which we have now no Aristotelian evidence. It is certainly surprising that Aristotle should assert that Plato never enquired wherein the participation of things in ideas consists;69 while in the Parmenides (130 E sqq.) the difficulties with which this theory has to contend are clearly pointed out. But it is not more surprising than that he should assail the doctrine of ideas with the question: ‘Who formed the things of sense after the pattern of the ideas?’70 — though it is distinctly stated in the Timaeus (28 C sq.) that the Creator of the world did this in looking on the eternal archetypes.71 Nor, again, that he should maintain, notwithstanding the well-known explanation in the Phaedo,72 often alluded to by himself — notwithstanding the doctrine in the Republic, of the Good being the absolute end of the world — that the final cause is not touched by the ideas.73 We should have expected that in attacking |77| Plato about the τρίτος ἄνθρωπος,74 Aristotle, had he been acquainted with the Parmenides, would have referred to the fact that in that dialogue (132 A) the same objection is raised. But might we not also have expected after the further stricture: ‘Plato ought then to assume ideas of art productions, mere relations, etc., which he does not,’75 some such remark as this: In his writings he certainly does speak of such ideas? And in the discussions concerning the Platonic theory of the world-soul,76 should we not have anticipated some mention of the passage in the Laws about the evil soul,77 which has given so many handles to criticism? Many other things besides these might reasonably have been looked for on the supposition that the writings of Plato the same significance, as sources of his doctrines, for Aristotle as for us, and were used by him in a similar manner. But this we have no right to presuppose; and therefore his not alluding to a writing is by no means sufficient to prove that it was unknown to him, or that he did not acknowledge it to be Platonic.

By means of Aristotle’s testimony, supplemented sometimes from other quarters,78 we are thus enabled to ascribe a number of writings to Plato with all the certainty that can be attained in this way.79 These works acquaint us with the scientific and literary character of their author, and so furnish us with a criterion for the |78| criticism of other works or portions of works which are either insufficiently supported by external evidence, or in their form or contents are open to suspicion. Great care, however, is necessary in fixing and applying this standard; and in some cases even the most cautious weighing of favourable and adverse considerations can not insure absolute certainty.80 In the first place we must decide, on which of the dialogues noticed by Aristotle our Platonic criterion is to be based. If we confine ourselves to those which he expressly attributes to Plato, we shall have only the Republic, the Timaeus, the Phaedo, and the Laws; and important as these works are, it is questionable whether they represent the scientific and literary individuality of the many-sided Plato exhaustively enough to make everything appear un-Platonic that at all departs from their type. If, on the other hand, we also take into account those writings of which Aristotle makes use without mentioning their author, or from which he quotes something that Plato has said, without naming the dialogue, — we find that the Philebus is as well attested as the Theaetetus; the Sophist, Politicus, Meno, and the Lesser Hippias, as the Gorgias and Symposium; and all of them better than the Protagoras, the authenticity of which no one doubts. Our Platonic criterion must, in this case, therefore be considerably wider than that of Ueberweg and Schaarschmidt. Moreover it must not be imagined that each divergence in a dialogue from those works considered normal is necessarily a proof of its spuriousness; |79| these normal works themselves present deviations one from the other, equal in importance to many that have formed the basis of adverse judgments. If it be objected against the Philebus that it wants dramatic liveliness, and the flow of conversational development, the Protagoras may be charged with meagreness of scientific content, with the entire failure of the theory of ideas, with the apparent barrenness of result in the whole enquiry, and the fatiguing prolixity of the discussion about the verse of Simonides. If the antinomic development of conceptions is peculiar to the Parmenides, and elaborate classifications to the Sophist and Politicus, — the Timaeus stands alone not only in its theories of the Creator and antemundane matter, the a mathematical construction of the elements, the arithmetical division, and distribution of the soul in space, but in its minute treatment of the whole subject of Physics, to which no other dialogue makes an approach.

The Laws are separated by a far greater interval from the Republic and from the other normal works than from the Politicus, and in an artistic point of view are open to much graver criticism than the dialectical dialogues; the later form of the Platonic philosophy, (known to us through Aristotle, has a much more abstruse and formal character than the logical and metaphysical statements of the Laws. We cannot, indeed, go quite so far as Grote,81 who sometimes speaks as if Plato in none of his works had the least regard to those already written, and thought nothing of contradicting himself in the most glaring manner, even in one and |80| the same dialogue. But we ought not, on the other hand, to forget that so exuberant a spirit as Plato’s was not limited for its expression to one particular form; that the purpose of a dialogue might make it necessary to emphasize some points in it, and to pass slightly over others: that the nature of a subject or the readers for whom it was intended might require the style of a work to be more or less ornate, and the treatment to be more or less popular; that much that now seems to us incomprehensible might be explained by special occasions and personal references; that we are not justified in expecting, even from a Plato, nothing but productions of equal finish and importance; that as we might have anticipated, even without the evidence establishing it, during the sixty years of Plato’s literary activity both his philosophy and his artistic method underwent a considerable change, and that on this account, if no other, a standard derived from a portion of his works cannot be applicable to them all without condition or modification. These considerations certainly render a decision concerning the genuineness Platonic writings, so far as this depends on internal arguments, very difficult and complicated. It is not enough simply to compare one dialogue with others, we must enquire whether Plato, as we know him from undoubted works, might be supposed to have produced the writing in question at a certain date and under certain circumstances. This of course cannot always answered with equal assurance, either affirmatively negatively. It is sometimes hard to distinguish with perfect accuracy the work of a tolerably expert imitator |81| from a less important work of the master; what is un-Platonic from what is unfinished, or the result of Plato’s advanced age; and therefore it is almost unavoidable that among the dialogues which can be vouched for as Platonic, or the reverse, others should creep in, with respect to which a certain degree of probability is all we can attain. Those writings, however, on which our knowledge and estimate of the Platonic philosophy chiefly depend, can well maintain their ground in any impartial investigation; while, on the other hand, our general view of Platonism would be very little affected by the genuineness or spuriousness of several of the lesser dialogues.

It is impossible in this place to pursue this subject more particularly, or to discuss the reasons which may be urged for or against the Platonic origin of each work. But it seems necessary to point out those writings on which, as original sources of the Platonic philosophy, our exposition of that philosophy will be founded, if even the critical grounds which determine the position of these writings should not at once be explained, and receive only partial notice hereafter.

Our collection of Platonic works contains, besides those dialogues which even in ancient times were acknowledged to be spurious,82 thirty-five dialogues, thirteen letters,83 and a number of definitions, mostly relating to ethics. Among these there are a few — the Protagoras, Phaedrus, Symposium, Gorgias, Theaetetus, and Republic — the authenticity of which has never been |82| questioned: the Phaedo also has been as little affected by the suspicion of Panaetius (if it really existed)84 — as the Timaeus by Schelling’s temporary doubt.85 The genuineness of all these works may be considered as fully established. There are, besides, several other important dialogues the Philebus, Sophist, Politicus, Parmenides, and Cratylus, which, in spite of the repeated assaults upon them in modern days,86 are certainly to be regarded as Platonic not only on the strength of the Aristotelian testimony which can be cited for |83| most of them,87 but also on account of conclusive internal evidence.88 The position of the Laws will be the subject of a future discussion. There is all the less reason to mistrust the Critias,89 since its contents, so far as they go, are entirely in harmony with the opening of the Timaeus. The Meno90 is protected by a clear reference in the Phaedo,91 as well as by Aristotle’s quotations; and though not one of Plato’s most perfect dialogues, there is no good reason to suspect its authenticity. The Euthydemus is at any rate made use of by Eudemus,92 and, though often attacked,93 may be |84| easily defended, if we bear in mind the proper design of this dialogue,94 and sufficiently discriminate between what is seriously intended and what is satirical exaggeration or irony:95 it would be hard to deny to Plato |85| on trivial grounds so charming a sketch, abounding in comic power and humour. The Apology, which was known to Aristotle,96 is as little really doubtful97 as the Crito: both are perfectly comprehensible if we regard the one as in the main a true statement of facts,98 and the other as apparently a freer representation of the motives which deterred Socrates from flight. We may consider the Lysis, Charmides, and Laches, with all of which Aristotle seems to have been acquainted, to be youthful productions, written when Plato had not as yet essentially advanced beyond the Socratic standpoint; the Lesser Hippias, which is supported by very |86| decisive Aristotelian evidence, as a first attempt; and the Euthyphro as an occasional writing,99 of a slight and hasty character. On the other hand, there are so many weighty internal arguments against the Menexenus, that notwithstanding the passages in Aristotle’s Rhetoric,100 it is difficult to believe this work Platonic: if Aristotle really meant to attest it, we might suppose that in this one instance he was deceived by a forgery ventured upon soon after Plato’s death.101 The Ion is probably, and the Greater Hippias and First Alcibiades are still more probably, spurious.102 The remainder of the dialogues in our collection, the Second Alcibiades, the Theages, the Anterasti, Hipparchus, |87| Minos, Clitophon, and Epinomis, have been rightly abandoned almost unanimously by all modern critics with the exception of Grote. It is impossible for a moment to allow any genuineness to the Definitions; and Karsten103 and Steinhart,104 following the example of Meiners, Hermann, and others, have conclusively shown that the Letters, as has so often happened, were foisted upon their reputed author at various dates.

It has indeed been questioned whether even the undoubted works of Plato present a true picture of his system. According to some, partly to increase his own importance, partly as a precautionary measure, Plato designedly concealed in his writings the real sense and connection of his doctrines, and only disclosed this in secret to his more confidential pupils.105 This notion has been, however, since Schleiermacher106 justly and almost universally abandoned.107 It can be supported |88| neither on Platonic nor Aristotelian evidence:108 the assertions of later writers who transferred their conceptions of the Pythagorean mystical doctrine to Plato,109 consequently prove nothing. It is besides utterly incredible in itself that a philosopher like Plato should have spent a long life in literary labours, designed not |90| to impart his views, but to hide them: a purpose far more effectually and simply carried oat by silence. Further he himself assigns the same content to the written as to the spoken word, when he makes the aim of the one to be the reminding us of the other.110 And Aristotle could not have been aware of any essential difference between Plato’s oral and written teaching, otherwise he would not have based his own exposition and criticism equally on both, without ever drawing attention to the fact that the true sense of the writings could only be determined by the spoken comments of their author. Still less would he have taken the mythical or half mythical portions in a literal manner, only possible to one who had never conceived the idea of a secret doctrine pervading them.111 Nor can this theory be brought into connection with Plato’s habit of indirectly hinting at his opinion and gradually arriving at it, instead of distinctly stating it when formed; with his occasional pursuit, in pure caprice as it might seem, of accidental digressions; with the confessions of ignorance or the doubting questions that, instead of a fixed unequivocal decision, conclude many of the dialogues; or with the method that in particular cases invests philosophic thoughts with the many-coloured veil of the mythus. All this, it is true, is found in Plato; and the reasons for such a method will hereafter disclose themselves. Meanwhile the form of the dialogues will offer no insuperable hindrance to their comprehension by anyone who has penetrated |91| their aim and plan, and learned to consider each in the light of the whole, and as explicable only in its relation to others; nor again is there anything in this form to weaken the belief112 that in the writings of Plato we have trustworthy records of his philosophy. If, lastly, we find in these writings, side by side with philosophic enquiry, a considerable space allotted to historical description and dramatic imagery, it is yet easy in some cases to separate these elements, in others to recognise the philosophic kernel which they themselves contain.


1^Schleiermacher, Platon’s Werke, 2nd edition 1816. Ast, Platon’s Leben und Schriften, 316. Socher, 1 eber Platon’s Schriften, 1820. Hermann, Geschichte und System der Platonischen Philosophie, 1830, p. 343 sqq. Ritter, Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. ii. 191-211. Brandis, Handbuch der Griechisch-Römischen Philosophie, ii. a. 151-182. Stallbaum, in his Introductions. Steinhart, in the Introduction to Plato’s Works, translated by Müller, 1850. Suckow, Die Wissenschaftliche und Künstlerische Form der Platonischen Schriften, 1855. Munk, Die Natürliche Ordnung der Platonischen Schriften, 1857. Susemihl, Die Genetische Entwickelungder Platonischen Philosophie, 1855. Ueberweg, Untersuchungen über die Echtheit Und Zeitfolge Platonischer Schriften, 1801. H. v. Stein, 7 Bucher z. Gesch. d. Plat. vol. 1, 2 1862-1864. Schaarschmidt, die Summlung d. plat. Schrift. 1800. Bonitz, Plat. Studien, 1858. Grote, Plato, 3 vols., 1805. Ribbing, Genetische Entwickelungder Platonischen Ideenlehre, Part ii.

2^ We shall find that in all probability several of his dialogues were composed, partly after the death of Socrates, partly perhaps even before; ancient testimony abundantly proves his having continued his literary labours to the last (vide pp. 3; 35, 78). The Laws are said to have been found unfinished after his death (Diog. iii. 37), and there is also internal evidence that this work was his latest (vide subter).

3^ Ap. Diog. iii. 62: Μίδων, Φαίακες, Χελιδών, Ἑβδόμη, Ἐπιμενίδης, ap. Athen. xi. 506, d. Κίμων, ap. Doxopat. in Aphthon., Rhet. Graec. ed. Walz. II. 130, cf. Simpl. in Categ. 4 ζ, βας. θεμιστόκλης (unless this is after all merely another title for the Cimon, in which, according to Athenaeus, Themistocles was strongly criticised; we have no right with Hermann to conjecture Theaetetus instead of Themistocles, or to assume in the Cimon of Athenaeus a confusion with the Gorgias). Other apocryphal writings are given by the Arabian in Casiri’s Biblioth. Arab. i. 302, who professes to quote Theo.

4^ Diog. loc. cit. introduces the list of the above mentioned and some other dialogues with the words νοθεύονται δὲ τῶν διαλόγων ὁμολογουμένως. If we consider how ready the scholars of the Alexandrine period were to accept as Platonic a series of writings, the spuriousness of which we can scarcely doubt, we cannot avoid concluding that those writings which they unanimously rejected must have had very distinct signs of spuriousness, and must have appeared at a comparatively late period.

5^ Aristotle mentions repeatedly Platonic διαιρέσεις, Gen. et Corr. ii. 3, 330, b. 15; those who presuppose only two original elements, represent the rest as a mixture of these; ὡσαύτως δὲ καὶ οἱ τρία λέγοντες, καθάπερ Πλάτων ἐν ταῖς διαιρέσεσιν· τὸ γὰρ μέσον (sc. στοιχεῖον) μίγμα ποιεῖ. Part. Anim. 1, 2, 642, b. 10; we must not form a classification of animals on different arrangements of the limbs [οίον τους όρνιθας τους μὲν ἐν τῇδε τοὺς δ’ ἐν άλλῃ διαιρέσει, καθάπερ ἔχουσιν αἱ γεγραμμέναι διαιρέσεις · εκτεῖ γὰρ τοὺς μὲν μετὰ τῶν ἐνύδρων συμβαίνει διῃρῆσθαι, τοὺς δ’ εν άλλῳ γένει.]. The first of these passages can refer neither to Philebus, 16 E nor to Timaeus, 27 D, 48 E sq., or 31 B sq. 53 A sq.; for neither is the denotation διαιρέσεις appropriate to any of these passages, nor does any one of then contain the quotation here from the διαιρέσεις. The first four are not concerned with the corporeal elements, the ἁπλᾶ σώμαβα, to which the remark of Aristotle applies (though Ueberweg, Untersuchungen über die Echtheit Und Zeitfolge Platonischer Schriften disputes this); the Timaeus 31 B sq. 53 A sq. certainly treats of these, but neither of the passages could well be denoted by διαιρέσεις, and both have four elements instead of the three which Aristotle found in the διαιρέσεις, and the two middle elements, so far from exhibiting a mixture of the two exterior, are rather (p. 53 B), according to their stereometric combination, related to only one of them, and with it stand in contrast to the other. We cannot, however, think of a reference to a merely orally delivered utterance of Plato’s (Ueberweg, loc. cit. Susemihl. Genet. Entw. 11, 548), because in this case, according to Aristotle’s invariable custom, instead of the present ποιεῖ a past sense must stand, and an oral exposition would without doubt have received some further notice. The διαιρέσεις here mentioned must therefore be a composition not included in our collection of Plato’s works, either written by Plato himself, or else an exposition of Platonic doctrines. In the second passage (Part. An.), Aristotle can only mean a written treatise by γεγραμμέναι διαιρέσεις; and for this we must not think of any of the Platonic writings which have survived to us, because that denotation for any one of them or for any paragraph out of one of them would be very strange; and the quotation of Aristotle, about the birds being placed partly in the same class with the aquatic animals, partly in another class, is not to be found in the passages to which one would most readily turn in this sense, Soph. 220 A sq.; Polit. 264 D; (the former passage is referred to by Hermann, Plat. 594; Susemihl, loc. cit. Pilger über die Athetese d. Plat. Soph. 6, the latter by Ueberweg, loc. cit. 153 sq.). On the contrary, the διαιρέσεις here are not referred to Plato, and so far the passage in Part. Anim. taken by itself, would not contradict the supposition of Suckow (Die Wissenschaftliche und Künstlerische Form der Platonischen Schriften. 97 sq.) that the γεγραμμέναι διαιρέσεις were neither a written treatise of Plato s, nor an imposition of Platonic doctrines. Suckow is entirely mistaken in saying that they could not be so because Plato is not here named; as we shall find, Aristotle very often refers to Plato without naming him.) If, however, we are quite convinced from the passage De Gen. et Corr., that Aristotle actually had in his hands an exposition of Platonic Classifications, it is most natural to conclude that he is referring to the same book in De Part. Anim. It cannot however be supposed that this proceeded from Plato himself, or was at least given out as his work, because in that case Aristotle would have (Part. Anim. 1, 2) expressed himself differently, and doubtless either this treatise itself or some more authentic trace of its existence would have been preserved than is found in its alleged transmission to Dionysius, Ep. Plat, xiii. 360 B. The latter passage seems rather to refer to the διαιρέσεις which Alexander apud Philoponum in Arist. De Gen. et Corr. 50 b., med. mentions among the spurious writings in circulation at his time under Plato’s name, of which however Philoponus himself knew nothing. The διαιρέσεις referred to by Aristotle were a, collection of classifications of mundane existences, used in the Academic school and based on Platonic enunciations. The existence of such a writing is shown by the fact that διαιρέσεις are attributed to Speusippus (Diog. iv. 5), Xenocrates (Ib. 13), and Aristotle (Diog. v. 23. Simpl. Categ. Schol. in Arist. 47 b. 40: the Arabian ap. Rose, Arist. Fragm. in 5th vol. Berl. Acad. Arist. 1471, 52); Hermodorus ap. Simpl. Phys. 54 b. (transcribed in my Diatribe de Hermodoro, p. 20, and Susemihl’s Genet. Entw. ii. 522), seems to refer to Platonic discourses in which such classifications occurred. The assumption (Alberti Geist. und Ordn. d. Plat. Schrf. 37, 64), that Aristotle was himself the composer of the διαιρέσεις which he refers to, is rendered highly improbable by the way in which they are cited and criticised; if the διαιρέσεις attributed to Aristotle by the later writers were the same as those from which Diog. iii. 80-109 borrowed what he tells us, with repeated reference to Aristotle, about the Platonic Classifications, they cannot be either (as Suckow thinks loc. cit. 96) a work of Aristotle, or one used by him, but merely a work of the later schools. Just as little can we look for the Διαιρέσεις referred to in Aristotle’s exposition of the Platonic discourses on the Good (with Brandis, De perd. Arist. libris 12). (On these discourses cf. Part ii. b. 48, 2, 2nd edit.) We should sooner look for the reference in the ἄγραφα δόγματα (vide p. 382, 2), Philop. loc. cit.; Karsten de Plat, epist. 218; Schaarschmidt, Samml. d. Plat. Schr. 104; still the different denotation makes us suppose different writings. But however that may be, in any case we cannot consider the Διαιρέσεις referred to by Aristotle to be either a Platonic or an Aristotelian writing. The Διαιρέσεις which were subsequently current under the name of one or the other of these two philosophers can only be considered as a post-Aristotelian interpolation or perhaps a recasting of the older work.

6^ Cf. p. 26, 53, 54, and Part ii. b. 48, 2, 2nd edit.

7^ Phys. iv. 2, 209 b. 13. Aristotle says, after he has mentioned the determinations of the Timaeus about space, άλλον δὲ τρόπον εκεί τε λέγων τό μεταληπτικόν καὶ εν τοίς λεγομένοις άγράφοις δόγμασιν, όμως τον τόπον καὶ την χωράν τό αυτό άπεφηνατο. It is manifest that no Platonic written treatise can be intended by these άγράφοις δόγματα; yet on the other hand, this name is not suited for a reference to an oral discourse as such: we can therefore only understand by it a collection of notes of such Platonic views as were still up to that time άγράφα, embodying the contents of Platonic discourses. The way, however, in which the allusion is made precludes the supposition that Aristotle himself was the author of this collection (as Philop. ib., Schol. in Ar. 371 b. 25, and Gen. Et Corr. 50 b. thinks); and though Simplicius (Phys. 126 a. m. 127 a. o. Schol. in Ar. 371 b. 3, 372 a. 21) is right in referring to the άγραφα δόγματα to άγραφοι συνουσίαι of Plato, still he is hardly justified in understanding by them συνουσίαι specially on the Good. Themist. on the passage (p. 259, Speng.), states on mere conjecture (his own or someone’s else) that in the άγραφα δόγματα Plato represented matter as participating in the ideas, not κατὰ μέθεξιν, as in the Timaeus, but καθ’ ὁμοίωσιν: Aristotle is speaking merely of a variation in the denotation of the participating matter itself.

8^ The expressions which Aristotle Top. vi. 2, 140 a. 3, cites as Platonic occurred not in lost writings, but in oral discourses; (whatever in Timaeus’ Platonic Lexicon is alien to Plato’s works as we have them, comes generally not from Plato, but from another writer; vide Hermann, Plato, 556. As regards the remarkable statement of an obscure myth-writer of the middle ages (in A. Mai’s Auct. Class. 183) who appeals to an alleged Philosophus of Plato in support of a very un-Platonic view of the origin of the belief in Gods, cf. Schaarschmidt, Samml. d. plat Schr. 89.

9^ For, from Menander, π. ἐπιδεικτ. p. 143 W. 337 Sp. (ὁ γοῦν Πλάτων ὕμνον τοῦ παντὸς τὸν Τίμαιον καλεῖ ἐν τῷ Κριτίᾳν) we cannot conclude that this rhetorician had the Critias in a more complete form than we have. Had this been so, still further traces of it would have been preserved; whereas we see from Plut. Solon, 32, that in Plutarch’s time only the introduction and the beginning of the narrative remained; his words seem rather to be merely an inexact expression, meaning that the subject of the Timaeus was treated in the beginning of the Critias as a hymn of praise to the Cosmos, because Timaeus here prays to the God, whose origin he has described, that, in case he has uttered anything παρὰ μέλος, God would τὸν πλημμελοῦντα ἐμμελῆ ποιεῖν.

10^ All the lost dialogues (vide p. 46, 3) and those of the existing number marked in the editions as Dialogi nothi, except the Clitophon (vide Hermann, pp. 424, 594, 225, ect.). Even in ancient times the Epinomis (Diog. iii. 37, Suid, φιλόσοφος. Prolegg. in Plat. c. 25, following Proclus) was by many ascribed to Philippus of Opus, the second Alcibiades (Athen. xi. 506 c.), to Xenophon (this cannot possibly be right), and the Ante-rastae and Hipparchus were considered doubtful (Thrasylus, ap. Diog. ix. 37, and Aelian. V. H. viii. 2 respectively). On the contrary, it is scarcely credible that Panaetius actually condemned the Phaedo as spurious, in order to deprive the belief in immortality of the authority of Plato (Asclepius, Schol. in Ar. 576 a. 39. Anthol. Graec. ix. 358; according to David, Schol. in Ar. 30 b. 8 Syrian, as our text stands, the latter Epigram was written on the Phaedrus, for which, however, the Phaedo is obviously to be read); this statement seems to have originated in a misunderstanding of the tradition of Panaetius doubts as to the genuineness of the Phaedo, and of his opposition to the Platonic doctrine of immortality (Cic. Tusc. i. 32, 79). Had he declared the Phaedo spurious on the grounds stated, he would have spared himself this opposition.

11^ Platon’s Leben und Schriften, 1816.

12^ Ueberweg's Platon’s Schriften, 1820.

13^ Isocrates certainly seems to mean Plato’s political writings by his mention (Philippic 13, written 346 B.C.) of νόμρις καὶ πολιτείας ταῖς ὑπὸ τῶν σοφιστῶν γεγραμμέναις. Still this reference, if the passage be taken by itself, cannot prove that Plato was the only one or the first who had written on the formation of the state and on laws; we know of several similar works, besides those of Plato, in the period before Isocrates; the Πολιτεία of Protagoras, the work of Antisthenes π. νόμου ἣ π. πολιτείας (Diog. vi. 16), those of Phaleas and Hippodamus (Arist. Polit, ii. 7, 8, who also 1267 b. 37, 1268 a. 6, in reference to the latter of the two, expressly mentions his proposals as regards the νόμοι), and Polit. 1, 6 1255 a. 7, Arist. speaks of πολλοὶ τῶν ἐν τοῖς νόμοις, who dispute the right of enslaving captives made in war. Still less can we, with Suckow (Form. d. plat. Schr. 103 sq.) infer from the plural σοφιστῶν, that Isocrates attributed the Republic and the Laws to different authors; cf. Ueberweg, Plat. Schr. 184 sq. From the statement of Theopompus, quoted p. 38, 94, we cannot gather what Platonic writings he had before him. On the contrary, it appears from Plut. An. Procr. 3, 1: Alex. on Metaph. 1091 a. 27; cf. Arist. De Caelo, 1, 10, 279 b. 32; and other authorities to be mentioned later on, that Xenocrates noticed the Timaeus according to Suid. Ξενοκρ. he also wrote XXX; Diog. iv. 82, however, mentions only a treatise π. πολιτείας. Theophrastus refers to the Timaeus (Fragm. 28, 34-49 Wimm;) to the Laws (xi. 915 D). See Fr. 97, 5 (Stobaeus, Florilegium 44, 22, end). Eudemus, Eth. Eud. vi. 14, 1247, b. 15, must refer to the Euthydemus (279 D sq., 281 B), inasmuch as what is here quoted as Socratic is to be found there and there only; Eth. Eud. vii. 13, 1246, b. 34, seems to refer to the Protagoras, 352, B, C; and Eth. Eud. iii. 1, 1229, a. 15, to Protag. 360 D; Eth. Eud. vii. 5, 6, 1239, b. 13, 1240, b. 17, seems to be connected with the Lysis, 214 C sq., for here the Eudemian text comes nearer the Platonic dialogue than the parallel passage of the Nicomachean Ethics, ix. 10, 1159, b. 7. Aristotle (vide sup. 38, 94) speaks of the Platonic Republic; Dicaearchus of the Phaedrus (ap. Diog. Iii. 38); Timon of the Timaeus (vide p. 20, 38); the first commentary on the latter dialogue was written by Crantor (supra, p. 696 d. 2nd edit.); the Stoic Persaeus wrote against Plato’s Laws, 200-250 B.C. (Diog. vii. 36).

14^ The first included the Republic, Timaeus, Critias; the second the Sophist, Politicus, Cratylus; the third the Laws, Minos, Epinomis; the fourth the Theaetetus, Euthyphro, Apology; the fifth the Crito, Phaedo, the Letters; ‘τὰ δ΄ἄλλα καθ΄ ἓν καὶ ἀτάκτως. Suckow Form. d. plat. Schr. 163, I think wrongly, denies that this division into trilogies really belongs to Aristophanes.

15^ Ap. Diog. iii. 56 sq.

16^ Besides the dialogues mentioned p. 46, 5, there are wanting in it only the two small dialogues π. δικαίον and π. ἀρετῆς, the Definitions, and the Letters nos. 14-19, first admitted by Hermann in his edition.

17^Plato and the other Companions of Socrates, 1, 132 sq.

18^ If we suppose that letters of Plato really existed, there is no necessity that copies of them should be found in his literary remains; supposing that the libraries of Speusippus and Xenocrates met with any accident, as might easily have happened during the struggles of the Diadochi for the possession of Athens, or that some of their parts were lost, nothing would have remained but to supply them from without. However, we cannot take into account these possibilities, as has been said: it sufficient that we know nothing to how Plato’s writings were preserved in his school, or what precautions were taken to maintain the collection in its integrity.

19^Galen in Hippocr. De Natura Hominis 1, 42, xv. 105, K: πρὶν γὰρ τοὺς ἐν’ Αλεξανδρεία τε καὶ Περγάμῳ γενέσθαι βασιλεῖς ἐπὶ κτήσει βιβλίων φιλοτιμηθέντας οὐδέπω ψευδῶς ἐπεγέγραπτο σύγγραμμα, λαμβάνειν δ͗ ἀρξαμένων μισθὸν τῶν κομιζόντων αὐτοῖς σύγγραμμα παλαιοῦ τινος ἀνδρὸς, οὕτως ἤδη πολλὰ ψευδῶς ἐπιγράφοντες ἐκόμιζον. (Similarly Simpl. in Categ. 2 e. Schol. in Ar. 28, a. infra.) Galen obviously goes too far here in supposing that before the establishment of these two great libraries there had been no forging of books; and still less can we agree with the conclusion of Grote (loc. cit. 155), that as the rivalry of these two libraries first gave occasion for such forgeries, and the library of Pergamus was not founded till 230 B.C., we are not to suppose any forgeries before this time. Of this supposed rivalry Galen says nothing; φιλοτιμεῖςθαι means simply to seek after reputation or glory in anything, to display zeal; Simplicius uses the word σπουδάζειν for it.

20^ Cf. Part ii. b. 87, 6, 2nd edit.

21^ A collection of all the references in Aristotle to Plato’s writings was attempted by Trendlenburg, Plat, de id. et num. doctr. 13 sq.; then in my Platon. Stud. 201 sq. Next Suckow (Form. d. plat. Schr. 40 sq.), Ueberweg (Unters. plat. Schr. 131 sq.), and Schaarschmidt (Samml. d. plat. Schr. 90 sq.) thoroughly examined these evidences. Still, Bonitz, in his Index Aristotelicus, 598 sq., gives the most exhaustive catalogue of them. To this reference is to be made in case of dialogues, the citations from which in what follows are not discussed in detail.

22^ As the citation of the Laws (iv. 715, E sq.) at the end of the spurious work π. κόσμου, p. 401; of the Timaeus (77 B), π. φυτῶν, 1, 815 a. 21; of the Euthydemus (279 D sq.), in the Eudemian Ethics (vide p. 50. 13). The citation of the Sophist also (254 A) in the xi. Bk. of the Metaphysics c. 8, 1004, b. 29, might also be claimed, because not merely is the second part of this book decidedly spurious, but the genuineness of the first is anything but firmly established (c. 1-8, 1065, a. 26). Still, after repeated examination, I think it is more probably an earlier abstract, perhaps a rough sketch noted down by Aristotle for the purposes of his lectures, rather than a later epitome of Bks. iii. iv. vi. The quotation of the Apology and of the Menexenus, in the 3rd Bk. of the Rhetoric, gives almost more ground for doubt. For though the contents of this book, as a whole, seem sufficiently Aristotelian in character, still the question arises whether, in the form in which we have it, it constituted an original part of Aristotle’s Rhetoric, or whether it was not added by a later writer to the first books, perhaps based on notes or a lecture of Aristotle’s. In support of the latter supposition, besides other points, might be quoted the fact, that, according to Rhetor. 1, 1, especially p. 1054, b. 16 sq, it seems doubtful whether Aristotle would, on the whole, have treated in his Rhetoric the subjects discussed in the 3rd Bk.; and again, the 3rd Bk. c. 17, returns to the question of the πίστεις, which the first two books had already thoroughly entered into. Especially might we be inclined to suspect a different hand in many of the examples which are accumulated in the 3rd Book and worked out with proportionate detail; and in reference to this, it is worth noticing that quotations, which have already occurred in the first and second books repeatedly appear in the third book in a more complete form. In i. 9, 1367, b. 8, a saying of the historical Socrates is briefly mentioned (ὥσπερ γὰρ ὁ Σωκρ. ἔλεγεν, οὐ χαλεπὸν Άθηναίους ἐν Άθηναίοις ἐπαινεῖν;) in Bk. iii. 14, 1415, b. 30, this is more fully quoted from the Menexenus (235 D, 236 A): ὁ γὰρ λέγει Σωκρ. ἐν τῷ ἐπιταφίῳ ἀληθὲς, ὅτι οὐ χαλεπὸν Ἀθηναίους ἐν Ἀθηναίοις ἐπαινεῖν, ἀλλ’ ἐν Λακεδαιμονίοις. Whereas, ii. 23, 1398, a. 15, as an example of a proof, ἐξ ὁρισμοῦ, the following is quoted: οἷον ὅτι τὸ δαιμόνιον οὐδὲν εστὶν ἀλλ’ ἢ θεὸς ἢ θεοῦ ἔργον, in iii. 18, 1419, a. 8, we find a quotation of four lines from the Platonic Apology, 27 B-D. The quotation from Theodectes, ii. 23, 1399, b. 28, occurs again, III. 15, and is treated of at greater length; from 1416, b. 1-3, we learn the particulars about a passage of the Teucer of Sophocles, which in 1398, a. 4, was briefly alluded to. Again, it is remarkable that, iii. 14, the Menexenus is denoted by ὁ ἐπιτάφιος (without any specification), while by the like expression, 111, 10, 14, 11, a. 31, the Epitaphios of Lysias is meant. These circumstances certainly give some grounds for doubting whether the fuller quotations of the Apology and Menexenus in the 3rd Bk. of the Rhetoric proceed from Aristotle himself. On the other hand, I cannot agree with Schaarschmidt (Samml. d. plat. Schrf. 383), who remarks from the passages in Metaph. v. 29, 1025, a. 6, relative to the Lesser Hippias, that it is more than improbable that Aristotle himself published the book quoted, especially in the form we have it. Undoubtedly the (5th Bk. of the Metaphysics is proved to be genuine by Aristotle himself (cf. Part ii. b. 58, 2nd edit., and Arist. Gen. et Corr. 11, 10, 336, b. 29, cf. Metaph. v. 7) possibly not as a part of this work, but at any rate as an independent Aristotelian treatise and there is no reason at all to suppose that we have it merely in the form of a later recasting.

23^ The quotations to which Bonitz in his Index has prefixed a.

24^ The three cases denoted by Bonitz b. c. d.

25^ E.g. Gen. et Corr. 11, 9, 335, b. 9: XXX. Bonitz ranges these cases in the first class, distinguished, however, from those in which Plato is mentioned by the addition of a Σωκρ.

62^As in the criticism of the Platonic Republic, Polit. ii. 1, c. 6, 1065, b. 1; Ibid. iv. 4, 1291, a. 11 (θησὶ γὰρ ὁ Σωκράτης). viii. 7, 1342, a. 33, b. 23, v. 12, 1316, a. 1 sqq. (ἐν δὲ τῇ πολιτεία λέγεται μὲν. … ὑπὸ τοῦ Σωκράτους and the like): Gen. et Corr. 11, 9, vide previous note. Similarly Polit. 11, 4, 1262, b. 11, after it has been mentioned that Socrates (i.e. the Platonic Socrates in the Republic) wished the State to have the greatest possible unity, come the words, καθάπερ ἐν τοῖς ἐρωτικοῖς ἴσνεν λέγοντα τὸν ͗Αριστοφάνην, where Plato’s Symposium is meant.

27^ Arist. relates in the historic tense (Σωκρ. ᾤετο, ἐζἡτει, etc.) many things about Socrates which he may have borrowed from Xenophon or some other source of tradition; but he never quotes in the present tense (Σωκράτης θησὶ, &c.) and from a writing mentioned by name, anything Socratic which is not to be found in our Platonic dialogues. In the historic tense there is only one undoubted reference to the Memorabilia of Xenophon, (Mem. i. 2, 54) in Eudemus (Eth. Eud. vii. 1. 1235, a. 37).

28^ Polit. ii. 6, 1265, a. 10 (with reference to the Laws): τὸ μὲν οὖν περιττὸν ἔχουσι πάντες οἱ τοῦ Σωκράτους λόγοι κ.τ.λ. In the preceding passage, too, the grammatical subject to ‘εἴρηκεν’ &c. is Σωκράτης.

29^ Polit. ii. 3, 1261, b. 19, 21: τοῦτο γὰρ οἴεται ὁ Σωκράτης. … βούλεται ποιεῖν ὁ Σωκράτης. c. 4. 1262, b. 6: δι᾽ ἣν αἰτίαν ὁ Σωκράτης οὕτως οἴεται δεῖν τάττειν, c. 5. 1263 b. 29: αἴτιον δὲ τῷ Σωκράτει τῆς παρακρούσεως χρὴ νομίζειν τὴν ὑπόθεσιν οὐκ οὖσαν ὀρθήν. Polit. viii. 7. 1342, b. 23: διὸ καλῶς ἐπιτιμῶσι καὶ τοῦτο Σωκράτει (i.e., the Socrates of the Republic) τῶν περὶ τὴν μουσικήν τινες κ.τ.λ.

30^ Ueberweg in contending that the Menexenus in Rhet. iii. 14. 1415, b. 30 is not quoted as Platonic, has paid too little attention to the true state of the case. If this citation is really Aristotle’s (on this cf. p. 54, 22), we can only conclude that in conformity with his invariable custom he wished here to denote the Menexenus as Platonic, just as much as in the cases of the Republic, the Phaedo, and the Symposium quoted at page 57, 26.

31^ As the Timaeus, De coelo iii. 2. 300, b. 17: κάθαπερ ἐν τῷ Τιμαιῳ γεγραπται. De Anima i. 3, 406, b. 26: τὸν αὐτὸν δὲ τρόπον (as Democritus) καὶ ὁ Τιμαιος φυσιολογεῖ, and frequently (see Bonitz’s Index); the Phaedo, Meteorol, ii. 2, 355, b. 32: τὸ δ͗ ἐν τῷ Φαίδωνι γεγραμμένον … ἀδύνατόν ἐστι (I must retract the doubts of my Platon. Stud. 207, as regards the authenticity of this passage); the Phaedrus, Rhet. iii. 7, 1408, b. 20: ὅπερ Γοργίας ἐποίει καὶ τὰἐξτ ᾡ Φαίδρῳ; the Meno, Anal. post. 71, a. 29: εἰ δὲ μἡ, ἐν τῷ Μένωνι ἀπόρημα συβήσεται. Anal, prior, ii. 21, 67, a. 21: ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ ὁ ἐν τῷ Μένωνι λόγος, ὅτι ἡ μάθησις ἀνάμνησις; the Gorgias, Soph. Elench. 12, 173, a. 7: ὥ σπερ καὶ ὁ Καλλικλῆς ἐν τῷ Γοργία γέγραπται λέγων: the Lesser Hippias, Metaph. v. 29, 1025, a. 6: διὸ ὁ ἐν τῷ Ἱππίᾳ λόγος παρακρούεται, etc. Schaarschmidt (Samml. d. plat. Schr. 383) says indeed of the latter quotation: The writer of the dialogue is here spoken of in a tone of depreciation which we can hardly imagine Aristotle employing with regard to Plato. However, for the estimation of this assertion it is sufficient to refer to the passages quoted in note 29 from Polit. ii. 5; viii. 7. In addition to this, Schaarschmidt himself remarks on the same page, the condemnatory judgment of Aristotle on the dialogue before us, taken by itself, does not prove that he considered Plato to be the author. For a further objection to this assertion, vide p. 54, 22.

32^E.g. the Iliad and Odyssey, and many passages of Sophocles and Euripides; cf. Index Aristotelians under Ίλιὰς, Όδυσσεία, Σοφοκλῆς, Εὐριπίδης. Even the funeral oration of Lysias (§ 60) is quoted Rhet. i. 10, 1411, a. 31 (on which, however, cf. p. 54, 22) merely with the words: οἷον ἐν τῷ ἐπιταφίῳ, and the Μεσσηνιακὸς of Alcidamas, which had been already cited, Rhet. i. 13, 1373, b. 18, is referred to, II. 23, 1397, a. 11 equally without the author’s name.

33^ Schaarschmidt (plat. Schr. 342, 383) is therefore wrong, in my opinion, in denying that the Meno and the Lesser Hippias were attributed to Plato by Aristotle.

34^ As Metaph. xii. 6; 1071, b. 32 (Λεύκιππος καὶ Πλάτων) ἀεὶ γὰρ εἶναί φασι κίνησιν (which acc. to De Caelo iii. 2, 300, b. 16, comes from the Timaeus, 30, A.). Ibid. 37, ἀλλὰ μὴν οὐδὲ Πλάτωνί γε οἷόν τε λέγειν ἣν οἴεται ἐνίοτε (Phadr. 245, C sq. Laws x. 895, E sq.) ἀρχὴν εἶναι, τὸ αὐτὸ ἑαυτὸ κινοῦν: ὕστερον γὰρ καὶ ἅμα τῷ οὐρανῷ ἡ ψυχή, ὡς φησίν γὰρ (Tim. 34, B sq.) Phys. viii. 1, 251, b 17: Πλάτων αὐτὸν [τὸν χρόνον] γεννᾷ μόνος· ἅμα μὲν αὐτὸν τῷ οὐρανῷ γεγονέναι … φησίν (Tim. 37, D sq.) Metaph. iii. 5, 1010, b. 12: ὥσπερ καὶ Πλάτων λέγει (Theaet. 171, E. 178, C) Top. iv. 2, 122, b. 26: ὡς Πλάτων ὁρίζεται φορὰν τὴν κατὰ τόπον κίνησιν (Theaet. 181, C; the same statement occurs also Parm. 138, B sq.). Eth x. 2, 1172, b. 28: τοιούτῳ δὴ λόγῳ καὶ Πλάτων (Phileb. 22, A 60, C sq.) ἀναιρεῖ ὅτι οὐκ ἔστιν ἡδονὴ τἀγαηόν.

35^ As a rule, whore the writings are named, the reference is made in the present tense: cf. the quotations in the Index Arist. denoted by a.

36^ As Ueberweg believes Plat Schr. 140 sq. Cf. on the other side, Bernays apud Schaarschmidt Rhein. Mus. N.F. xviii., 3 sq. Alberti Geist u. Ordn. Plat. Schr. 54.

37^ E.g. Polit, ii. 5, 1264 a. 12: οὔτ᾽ εἴρηκεν ὁ Σωκράτης (in the Platonic Republic). Ibid. b. 24: ἡ πολιτεία περὶ ἧς ὁ Σωκράτης. c. 6, 1264, b. 28, 36: ἐν τῇ Πολιτείᾳ περὶ ὀλίγων πάμπαν διώρικεν ὁ Σωκράτης. … περὶ τούτων οὐδὲν διώρικεν ὁ Σωκράτης. 1266 a. 1: ἐν δὲ τοῖς νόμοις εἴρηται τούτοις. c. 9. 1271, a. 41: τῇ ὑποθέσει τοῦ νομοθέτου ἐπιτιμήσειεν ἄν τις, ὅπερ καὶ Πλάτων ἐν τοῖς νόμοις ἐπιτετίμηκεν. Top. vi. 3, 140, b. 3: κάθαπερ Πλάτων ὥρισται. Soph. Elench. 12, 173, a. 8: ὁ Καλλικλῆς ἐν τῷ Γοργία γέγραπται λέγαν. Phys. iv. 2, 210, a. 1: ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ Τιμαίῳ γέγραφεν. Likewise Gen. et Corr. 1, 8, 325, b. 24: ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ Τιμαίῳ γέγραφε Πλάτων, and frequently.

38^E.g. Eth. N. vii. 3, 1145, b. 23 sq.: ὡς ᾤετο Σωκράτης … Σωκράτης μὲν γὰρ ὅλως ἐμάχετο πρὸς τὸν λόγον κ.τ.λ. Cf. Protag. 352, B sq. Polit. i. 13, 1260, a. 21: the virtue of the man and of the woman is not the same, κάθαπερ ᾤετο Σωκράτης. Cf. Meno 73, A sq. So, too, Eth. N. iii. 11, 1116, b. 3 the quotation from Socrates, which occurs in Protag. 349 E sq. 360, C sq. is denoted by the past tense ῳ͗ήθη (in the parallel passage in Eth. Eud. iii. 1, 1229, a. 15 by ἔφη), Rhet. iii. 18, 1419, a. 8 sq. the conversation between Socrates and Meletus, which Plato narrates Apol. 27, B sq., is denoted as historical by the past tenses εἵρηκεν, ἤρετο, ἔφη, etc., and Rhet. ii. 9, 1367, b. 8 the saying that it is easy enough to panegyrize the Athenians in Athens, is attributed to the historical Socrates by the introductory formula ὥσπερ γἀρ ὁ Σωκράτης ἔλεγεν; Rhet. iii. 14, 1415, b. 30, where the same expression is quoted from the Menexenus, the words are quite in conformity with Aristotle’s custom: ὁ γἀρ λέγει Σωκράτης ἐν τῷ ἐπιταφίιω. On the other hand, in Gen. et Corr. ii. 9, 335, b. 9 (οἱ μὲν ἱκανὴν ᾠήθησαν αἰτίαν εἶναι πρὸς τὸ γίνεσθαι τὴν τῶν εἰδῶν φύσιν, ὥσπερ ὁ ἐν Φαίδωνι Σωκράτης) we must supply the present οἴεται as the finite verb to ὥσπερ, κ.τ.λ.

39^ Eth. N. i. 2, 1095, a. 32 (εὖ γὰρ καὶ ὁ Πλάτων ἠπόρει τοῦτο καὶ ἐζήτει) need not be brought in here, because in this case (besides Republic vi. 511, B) the reference seems rather to oral utterances. But the use of the past tense above remarked occurs decidedly Gen. et Corr. ii. 5, 332, a. 29: ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ Τιμαίῳ Πλάτων ἔγραψεν. Phys. iv. 2, 209, b. 15 (Plato, in Timaeus 52, A sq.) τὸν τόπον καὶ τὴν χώραν τὸ αὐτὸ ἀπεφήνατο. Polit. ii. 7, 1266, b. 5: Πλάτων δὲ τοὺς νόμους γράφων … ῳετο. Also Gen. et Corr. i. 2, 315, a. 29, the words: Πλάτων μὲν οὖν μόνον περὶ γενέσεως ἐσκέψατο κ.τ.λ. refer to the Timaeus, as we see from what follows (315, b. 30; 316, a. 2 sq.). A similar expression is used De sensu c. 5, 443, b. 30, in referring to a verse from the Phoenissae of Strattis, ἀληθὲς γὰρ ὅπερ Εὐριπίδην σκώπτων εἶπε Στράττις.

40^ As Ueberweg, Plat. Schr. 153 sq. in remarking on Metaph. vi. 2, 1026, b. 14 and xi. 8, 1064, b. 29 (vide p. 399, 2) the past tenses here used, ἔταξεν and εἴρηκε φήσας, (which latter, except as a perfect, cannot be brought under consideration here, in accordance with the above remarks) refer to oral utterances.

41^ The formulae which Aristotle makes use of here are all pretty much to the same effect, Phys. iv. 7, 214, a. 13: φασί τινες εἶναι τὸ κενὸν τὴν τοῦ σώματος ὔλην (Tim. 52, A sq.); De An. ii. 2, 413, b. 27: τα δε λοιπά μόρια τῆς ψυχ ῆς … οὐκ ἔστι χωριστὰ, κάθαπερ τινές φασιν (Tim. 69 c. though here the reference to a definite passage is questionable); Pol. vii. 7, 1327, b. 38: ὅπερ γάρ φασί τινες δεῖν ὑπάρχειν τοῖς φύλαξι κ.τ.λ. (Rep. ii. 375 A sq.); Pol. vii. 10, 1329 b. 41: οὔτε κοινήν φαμεν εἶναι δεῖν τὴν κτῆσιν, ὥσπερ τινὲς εἰρήκασιν (Rep. iii. 416 D); De An. 1, 5, 411, b. 5: λέγουσι δή τινες μεριστὴν αὐτὴν (τὴν ψυχὴν), etc. (Rep. iv. 436 sq.); Part. Anim. 11, 6 begin, ἔστι δὲ ὁ μυελὸς … οὐκ ὥσπερ οἴονταί τινες, τῆς γονῆς σπερματικὴ δύναμις (Tim. 86 C?); De Caelo, iii. 1, 298 b. 33; εἰσὶ δέ τινες οἱ καὶ πᾶν σῶμα γενητὸν ποιοῦσι, συντιθέντες καὶ διαλύοντες ἐξ ἐπιπέδων καὶ εἰς ἐπίπεδα (Tim. 53 C sq.); De Caelo, ii. 3, 286 b. 27: ἔτι δὲ καὶ οἱ διαιροῦντες εἰς ἐπίπεδα … μεμαρτυρηκέναι φαίνονται τούτις etc. (Tim. loc. cit.); De Caelo, ii. 13, 293 b. 30: ἔνιοι δὲ … φαςὶν αὐτὴν ἴλλεσθαι similarly Ibid. 1, 10, 280 a. 28; … ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ Τιμαίῳ; part. Anim. iv. 2, 676 b. 22: διόπερ οἱ λέγοντες τὴν φύσιν τῆς χολῆς αισθήσεώς τἶνος είναι χάριν ου καλῶς λέγουσιν φασὶ γὰρ, etc. (Tim. 71 A-D) Pol. vii. 17, 1336 a. 34: τὰς δὲ διατάσεις τῶν παίδων καὶ κλαυθμοὺς οὐκ ὀρθῶς ἀπαγορεύουσιν οἱ κωλύοντες ἐν τοῖς νόμοις (Laws, vii. 791 E sq.) By these examples the scruples raised as to Polit. iv. 2, 1289 b. 5, being a reference to Plato (Polit. 303 A), are, so far as concerns the manner of the reference, now settled. Aristotle says there: ἤδη μὲν οὖν τις ἀπεφήνατο καὶ τῶν πρότερον οὕτως, οὐ μὴν εἰς ταὐτὸ βλέψας ἡμῖν. ἐκεῖνος μὲν γὰρ ἔκρινε πασῶν μὲν [sc. τῶν πολιτεῖων] οὐσῶν ἐπιεικῶν … χειρίστην δημοκρατίαν, φαύλων δὲ ἀρίστην. Schaarschmidt (Sind. Soph. u. Polit. echt., etc. Rhein. Mus. N. F. xix. p. 2) thinks that he perhaps wishes to give us to understand that he did not know the author of the Politicus, or else that he did not consider it to be Plato’s. ‘As far as I know, Plato is never cited by him in this way or in any way at all approaching this.’ Similarly Ueberweg (Zeitschr. f. Philos. N. F. lvii. etc.) says that the Sophist and Politicus are not attested by Aristotle as writings of Plato, but only of τὶς τῶν πρότερξν, and Suckow (Form. d. plat. Schr. 87 sq.) argues in detail that Aristotle, if he knew and accepted the Politicus as Platonic, could not possibly have failed to mention Plato’s name in our passages. Even Steinhart (Ztschr. f. Philos. lviii. 47) finds the anonymous mention of Plato in the Politics so inexplicable that he prefers to attribute the reference in the passage before us to an unknown writer whose views Plato had appropriated. In reality, however, the way in which the passage of the Politicus is here referred to differs from the references to the Republic, Timaeus, and Laws before quoted only in this respect, that the author of this dialogue is denoted not by τινὲς or ἔξιπι, but by τὶς in the singular number, that is to say, the definite person, whom Aristotle is thinking about, is more distinctly and clearly referred to than in the other places.

42^ Metaph. i. 9, 991 b. 3, xiii. 5, 1080, 2 a. Gen. et Corr. ii. 9, 335 b. 9 (these three quotations refer to Phaedo, 100 B sq.). further references are given in Index Arist.

43^ Rhet. iii. 7 (vide p. 58, 31), a passage which gives no occasion for the scruples entertained on p. 55.

44^ Top. vii. 3, 140 b. 3; Metaph. xii. 6, 1071 b. 37. Both places in their statement of this definition coincide more closely with the Phaedrus, 245 C, than with the Laws, x. 896 A; that they have borrowed from one and the same writing is shown by the passage in the Metaphysics in its use of the present οἴεται. Cf. p. 59 sq.

45^ Polit. ii. 4, 1262 b. 11: καθάπερ ἐν τοῖς ἐρωτικοῖς λόγοις ἴσμεν λέγοντα τὸν Ἀριστοφάνην. Previously a tenet of the Platonic Republic was mentioned; still it would not follow as a matter of course that the Symposium was also attributed to Plato; it is clear, however, from the remarks on p. 58 sq. that this was the case.

46^ Cf. p. 58, 30; p. 59, 33; as regards the Meno, also p. 61, 38. On the other hand, of all the further parallel passages to the Gorgias quoted in Bonitz, Ind. Arist. 598 b. 32 sq., there is not one strong enough to prove its being made use of; Eth. N. vii. 12, 1152 b. 8 refers rather to Speusippus (on whom see 663, 5, 2nd edit.) than to the Gorgias 495 sq., because here it is not asserted that no pleasure is a good, but it is merely denied that every pleasure is a good.

47^ See p. 59, 34.

48^ Eth. N. vii 13, p. 1153 a. 13 hardly refers to Phil. 53 C, for the remarkable expression αἰσθητὴν γένεσιν  emphasised there is wanting here. On the other hand, in what precedes, Z. 8 (ἕτερόν τι εἶναι βέλτιον τῆς ἡδονῆς, ὥσπερ τινές φασι τὸ τέλος τῆς γενέσεως: οὐ γὰρ γενέσεις εἰσὶν οὐδὲ μετὰ γενέσεως), he refers to Phil. 54 B sq. Possibly the Aristotelian origin of this paragraph is uncertain (cf. Part ii. b. 72, 1, 2nd edit.); should it, however, only proceed from Eudemus, its evidence is none the less worthy of consideration. Further cf. my Platon. Stud. 281 sq.

49^ Eth. N. x. 2, 1172 b. 28: τοιούτῳ δὴ λόγῳ καὶ Πλάτων ἀναιρεῖ ὅτι οὐκ ἔστιν ἡδονὴ τἀγαθόν: αἱρετώτερον γὰρ εἶναι τὸν ἡδὺν βίον μετὰ φρονήσεως ἢ χωρίς, εἰ δὲ τὸ μικτὸν κρεῖττον, οὐκ εἶναι τὴν ἡδονὴν τἀγαθόν: οὐδενὸς γὰρ προστεθέντος αὐτῷ τἀγαθὸν αἱρετώτερον γίνεσθαι. What is here quoted from Plato, and more particularly, as the present ἀναιρεῖ shows, from a Platonic written treatise. Stand line for line, even to the particular expression, in the Philebus (20 E-22 A, 60 B-61 A). The supposition of Schaarschmidt (Samml. d. plat. Schr. 278 sq.) is entirely inadmissible (as Georgii Jahrb. f. Philol. 1868, vol. 97, 300 sq. clearly shows). He refers the quotation of Aristotle to Protag. 353 C-358 C, instead of the Philebus, and would account for the great conformity of it with the Philebus by supposing the writer of the Philebus to have made use of the passage of Aristotle. Not merely are the expressions different in the Protagoras — there is no mention of φρόνησις, of αἱρετὸν, of the mixed life and of the separation (χωρὶς) of pleasure and knowledge, as in the Philebus, but there is simply nothing at all that Aristotle quotes from Plato. The Protagoras does not refute the identification of the good with pleasure, by showing that pleasure joined with knowledge is better than pleasure alone; but from the presupposition that the good consists in pleasure (a presupposition, the problematical correctness of which is indeed hinted at, p. 358 B, which, however, Socrates himself makes and never attacks) it is demonstrated that every man does that from which he anticipates for himself most enjoyment and least pain; it is therefore impossible to sin against his better knowledge, through being overcome by pleasure — a tenet which. Aristotle loc. cit. does not mention.

50^ Indeed the value of Aristotle’s evidence is in a high degree strengthened thereby. In an entire series of passages from different works, widely distant in point of time, Aristotle shows an agreement with two writings in our collection of Plato’s works (which, owing to their reciprocal references (Soph. 217 A Polit. ad init.), must stand or fall together), so striking, not only in thought but in expression, that it cannot possibly be attributed merely to accident. He alludes in one (perhaps two) of these passages expressly to Plato, in a second (Metaph. xiv. 2; see previous note) clearly enough to a Platonic written treatise, in a third (Polit. iv. 2, see p. 62, 41) to a τις τῶν πρότερον, in the rest indefinitely to views and assertions, the author of which indeed he does not name, but which he had already before him from various sources. How are these facts to be explained, if Aristotle either did not know the Sophist and Politicus, or did not acknowledge them as Platonic? (two cases, the difference between which Schaarschmidt loc. cit. 98 sq., 237 sq. does not clearly distinguish). The first of these suppositions is disproved by the definite and repeated allusion of Aristotle to his predecessors whose views are here noticed; for it is quite beyond the bounds of probability to suppose either that Aristotle picked up and retailed out of oral tradition or lost writings all that is found in our dialogues, (the mention of which is most simply explained by his having made use of these dialogues), or that the writer of those dialogues only collected these scattered notices by way of a supplement, either from the same sources as Aristotle, or from his own works. If on the other hand we suppose that the Sophist and Politicus were indeed used by Aristotle, but not acknowledged as Platonic, we shall seek in vain for any explanation of the fact that, Metaph. vi. 2 (xi. 8), he quotes as Platonic a passage which is found in a dialogue recognised by himself to be spurious; or that, Metaph. xiv. 2, in his statement of the grounds which gave rise to a far-reaching determination of Platonic doctrines, he follows the thoughts and expressions of a supposititious writing of Plato’s in reference to the same subjects; and again that he repeatedly favours a second pseudo-Platonic dialogue with a notice, of which, one would have imagined, he would scarcely have thought such an apocryphal production worthy, considering that generally (cf. 57) he refers to no Socratic dialogues, except those which are contained in our collection of Plato’s works, and consequently, as we must conclude, to such only as he recognised to be Platonic.

51^ The following passages seem to refer to the Sophist: (1) Metaph. vi. 2, 1026, b 14: διὸ Πλάτων τρόπον τινὰ οὐ κακῶς τὴν σοφιστικὴν περὶ τὸ μὴ ὂν ἔταξεν. If Aristotle here alludes to a Platonic dialogue this can only be the Sophist in which 254, A stands the following: the Sophist, ἀποδιδράσκων εἰς τὴν τοῦ μὴ ὄντος σκοτεινότητα, τριβῇ προσαπτόμενος αὐτῆς can with difficulty be caught sight of; and Schaarschmidt is entirely mistaken (Samml. d. plat. Schr. 196) in referring instead of this to the Republic vi. 492 A-494 B, where there is nothing about the relation of Sophistic to the μὴ ὄν. From the same passage comes (2) Metaph. xi. 8, a paragraph which is only another recension of vi. 2, 1064, b. 29: διὸ Πλάτων οὐ κακῶς εἴρηκε φήσας τὸν σοφιστὴν περὶ τὸ μὴ ὂν διατρίβειν. Here the quotation of the Sophist is so perfectly obvious, that even Schaarschmidt allows it (Samml. d. plat. Schr. 101); and even if this part of the Metaphysics does not come from Aristotle (on which vide p. 54, 22), still the passage has its importance as evidence for the reference, which the words in Metaph. vi. 2 had given before. However, there is no need of this evidence; even of itself it is highly improbable that a judgment which occurs in a written treatise handed down as Platonic and here only, should be quoted by Aristotle as indeed Platonic, but not out of this treatise. (On the past tense ἔταξε cf. p. 62, 39.) Still if this passage stood alone, we might have some doubt. But we find in Aristotle still further express references to the Sophist. (3) In Metaph. xiv. 2, 1088, b. 35, Aristotle remarks, in connection with the question, whether the Ideas and Numbers are composed of certain στοιχεῖα: πολλὰ μὲν οὖν τὰ αἴτια τῆς ἐπὶ ταύτας τὰς αἰτίας ἐκτροπῆς, μάλιστα δὲ τὸ ἀπορῆσαι ἀρχαϊκῶς. ἔδοξε γὰρ αὐτοῖς πάντ᾽ ἔσεσθαι ἓν τὰ ὄντα, αὐτὸ τὸ ὄν, εἰ μή τις λύσει καὶ ὁμόσε βαδιεῖται τῷ Παρμενίδου λόγῳ "οὐ γὰρ μήποτε τοῦτο δαμῇ, εἶναι μὴ ἐόντα," ἀλλ᾽ ἀνάγκη εἶναι τὸ μὴ ὂν δεῖξαι ὅτι ἔστιν: οὕτω γάρ, ἐκ τοῦ ὄντος καὶ ἄλλου τινός, τὰ ὄντα ἔσεσθαι, εἰ πολλά ἐστιν. Cf. 1089, a. 19: ἐκ ποίου οὖν ὄντος καὶ μὴ ὄντος πολλὰ τὰ ὄντα; βούλεται μὲν δὴ τὸ ψεῦδος καὶ ταύτην τὴν φύσιν λέγειν (Alex. λέγει) τὸ οὐκ ὄν κ.τ.λ. Now that in this passage Aristotle did not merely (as Schaarschmidt, Rhein. Mus. xviii. 7; Samml. d. Plat. Schr. 105 wishes to make out) in tend us to understand Platonic scholars, but, primarily Plato himself, is at once clear from the beginning, in which his object is to display the grounds which gave rise originally to the supposition of elements of the Ideas; for this supposition was undoubtedly first propounded by Plato, and Schaarschmidt loc. cit. is wrong in believing that the reference here cannot be to Plato, inasmuch as the doctrine of Ideas in Aristotle’s Metaph. xiii. 4. 1078, b. 12, 1, 6, 987, a. 29, is derived from Socratic and Heraclitean doctrines, whereas the view of the ἔνιοι in our passage [together with another, it runs: πολλὰ μὲν οὖν τὰ αἵτια] is derived from a reference to the Parmenides. There the question is concerned with the Ideas, here with the elements, unity, and the great and small. Further, the reference of the passage before us to Plato follows from the singular βούλεται and (according to Alexander’s reading) λέγει, these same expressions, however (cf. p. 59 sq.), show that Arist. is referring to a definite written treatise of Plato s, which can be no other than the Sophist, for in the Sophist only does what we have here occur. Again, though Aristotle, as usual, does not quote word for word, only formulating more precisely what Plato says, in conformity with his supposed meaning (βούλεται), and further on (1089, a. 21) adding a reminiscence from lectures or oral disquisitions (See on this point Bonitz ad loc.; Ueberweg, Plat. Schr. 157 f) still the allusion to passages like Soph. 237 A, 241 D, 242 A, 258 D, E, cannot be mistaken (as Pilger, in his Programm üb. d. Athetese des plat. Soph. Berl. 1869, p. 7, sq., thoroughly proves). (4) It must remain undecided whether Metaph. vii. 4, 1030, a. 25; Rhet. 24, 1402, a. 4; Soph. El. 25, 180, a. 32, are to be referred specially to the remarks in the Sophist (258 E, 260 C) about the μὴ ὄν; in De Interpr. 11, 21, a. 32 (τὸ δὲ μὴ ὄν, ὅτι δοξαστὸν, οὐκ ἀληθὲς εἰπεῖν ὅν τι) and Soph. El. 5, 167, a. 1 (οἶον εἰ τὸ μὴ ὄν, ἐστι δοξαστὸν, ὅτι τὸ μὴ ὄν ἔστιν), it is exceedingly probable, though not strictly proved, that there is an allusion to Soph. 240 D-241, B; for with the point which is expressly emphasised in this passage, that we cannot use expressions like ψευδῆ δοξάζειν, without asserting ψευδῆ ὡς ἔστιν ἐν δόξαις τε καὶ κατὰ λόγους, and consequently attributing the ὄν to the μὴ ὄν — parallel passages like Theaetet. 189, A. Rep. v., 476, E. 478, B. do not correspond so closely. (5) The reference of Top. vi. 7, 146, a. 22 sq. to Soph. 247 D, is more certain: in the latter passage as an example of a disjunctive definition, which is therefore open to certain objections, is quoted, ὅτι τὸ ὂν τὸ δυνατὸν παθεῖν ἢ ποιῆσαι; in the former also we read: λέγω δὴ τὸ καὶ ὁ ποιανοῦν κεκτημένον δύναμιν. εἴτ’ εἰς τὸ ποιεῖν ἕτερον ὁτιοῦν πεφυκὸς εἴτ’εἰς τὸ παθεῖν … πᾶν τοῦτο ὄντως εἶναι; this is again repeated 248, c. and it is shown that this determination is also applicable to supersensuous existence. It is incredible that so characteristic a definition was propounded earlier by any other philosopher; it seems rather as if it was first put forward by its author in connection with the inquiry introduced in the Sophist, for the purpose of solving the questions there raised, and it if moreover actually brought in as something new and hitherto unknown to the opponents at p. 247 D.

52^ The passage of the Politics where Arist. mentions the judgment of one of his predecessors on democracy has been already quoted, p. 62, 41. If we compare with it Polit. 303 A: διὸ γέγονε [ἡ τοῦ πλήθους ἀρχὴ] πασῶν μὲν νομίμων τῶν πολιτειῶν οὐσῶν τούτων χειρίστη, παρανόμων δὲ οὐσῶν συμπασῶν βελτίστη, the complete harmony in thought; and in words too, as far as can be expected in a quotation from memory; makes it almost unimaginable that Aristotle had any other passage in his mind. Not less decided are the two passages Polit. iii. 15, 16, 1286, a. 7, 1287, a. 33. The first proposes the question: πότερον συμφέρει μᾶλλον ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀρίστου ἀνδρὸς ἄρχεσθαι ἢ ὑπὸ τῶν ἀρίστων νόμων, and remarks δοκοῦσι δὴ τοῖς νομίζουσι συμφέρειν βασιλεύεσθαι τὸ καθόλου μόνον οἱ νόμοι λέγειν, ἀλλ᾽ οὐ πρὸς τὰ προσπίπτοντα ἐπιτάττειν, ὥστ᾽ ἐν ὁποιᾳοῦν τέχνῃ τὸ κατὰ γράμματ᾽ ἄρχειν ἠλίθιον; the second in criticising this view mentions particularly the latter point: τὸ δὲ τῶν τεχνῶν εἶναι δοκεῖ παράδειγμα ψεῦδος, ὅτι τὸ κατὰ γράμματα ἰατρεύεσθαι φαῦλον. The assertions here combated are developed at length in the Politicus: p. 294 A. sq., it is shown: τὸ δ᾽ ρἄιστον οὐ τοὺς νόμους ἐστὶν ἰσχύειν ἀλλ᾽ ἄνδρα τὸν μετὰ φρονήσεως βασιλικόν, and this is supported by the argument that the law lays down the same ordinance for all persons and cases without regard to particular circumstances, — that it is a διὰ παντὸς γιγνομένον ἁπλοῦν, πρὸς τὰ μηδέπρτε ἁπλᾶ; and in the further working out of this position occurs (295 B, and previously 293 A) the comparison with the physicians, who do not bind themselves strictly to the rules of their art, when that art itself shows them that under given circumstances a departure therefrom is advisable. We must conclude that this was actually the comparison to which Aristotle loc. cit. alludes, although we do not know that the Politicus was in his possession: for there can be no question as to an accidental coincidence in such a characteristic thought; and it is just as incredible that the author of the Politicus based his own theory, self-consistent as it is, and deduced from Socratico-Platonic presuppositions with such consummate accuracy and justness, merely on the passages in Aristotle, and still more incredible that he should have done this without attempting to remove the objections of Aristotle at all; Now Aristotle actually met with the views which he combats: where else can he have found them except in the dialogue before us? For otherwise we must suppose before our Politicus an other treatise forming its counterpart, belonging likewise to the Platonic school, and corresponding with it, even in the particulars of the thoughts and the exposition. Moreover the assertion which Arist. Polit. 1, 1, 1252, a. 7, combats: πολιτικὸν καὶ βασιλικὸν καὶ οἰκονομικὸν καὶ δεσποτικὸν εἶναι τὸν αὐτὸν, is found together with the reason; ὡς οὐδὲν διαφέρουσαν μεγάλην οἰκίαν ἢ μικρὰν πόλιν, almost word for word in the Politicus 259 B, C; the same assertion is repeatedly spoken of by Aristotle, Pol. i. 3, 1253, b. 18, c. 7, beg. vii., 3. 1325, a. 27. — Further parallel passages, the evidence of which is however inferior to those hitherto quoted, are given in the Index Arist.

53^ This follows from a comparison of the Laws, iv. 713 C sq. (on the golden age), with Polit. 271 D sq. Schaarschmidt, however (Samml. d. plat. Schr.), thinks the passage of the Laws imitated in the Politicus. In my opinion, the freshness and originality of the exposition in the passage before us is so decided, that the grounds for its spuriousness must be very strong, before we should be justified in looking for the origin of the Politicus in the wider amplifications of the Laws, which even here (713 E) obviously contain an allusion to the Republic (v. 473, c. sq.).

54^ The passages with which we are here concerned were quoted on p. 54, and the grounds on which the citations of the 3rd Bk. of the Rhetoric were called in question were there indicated. Apart from these, however, the use of the Apology is proved by Rhet. 11, 23; although the saying of Socrates, which is quoted 1, 9, with the words Σωκράτης ἔλεγεν, according to what we have said at p. 60 sq. have come to Aristotle from other quarters, as for instance from the Menexenus. Even if he knew this dialogue, we must still suppose other sources of tradition for Socratic sayings, for he could scarcely have attributed it to the historic Socrates merely on the authority of the Menexenus.

55^ In the passage mentioned p. 59, 34, which certainly may come from the Parmenides as well as from the Theaetetus.

56^I have already supported this in my Platon. Stud. 194, by the argument that the first part of the Parmenides (129 B sq., 130 E sq.) is as good as directly cited in the Philebus (14 C, 15 B), and this reason I still think is quite valid. Schaarschmidt (Samml. A. plat. Schr. 277) also agrees with me; he, however, makes use of this supposition in a different direction from that above, and concludes from the spuriousness of the Parmenides, which he believes to be incontestable, that the Philebus likewise cannot be genuine.

57^ The proof is furnished by the passage quoted in Bonitz’s Index, Part. Anim. iv. 10, 687, a. 24: people complain ὡς συνέστηκεν οὐ καλῶς ὁ ἄνθρωπος ἀλλὰ, χείριστα τῶν ζῴων· ἀνυπόδητόν τε γὰρ αύτὸν εἶναι φασι καὶ γυμνὸν καὶ οὐκ ἔχοντα ὅπλον πρὸς τὴν ἀλκήν. Cf. Prot. 21 C (Protagoras’s Myth.): καὶ ὁρᾷ τὰ μὲν ἄλλα ζῷα ἐμμελῶς πάντων ἔχοντα, τὸν δὲ ἄνθρωπον γυμνόν τε καὶ ἀνυπόδητον καὶ ἄστρωτον καὶ ἄοπλον.

58^ For instance Prot. 352 B sq. is the source of the account about Socrates Eth. N. vii. 3 ad init., and the notice of Protag. Ethic. N. x. 1, 1164, a. 24 refers to Prot. 328 B sq. Also Eth. N. iii. 9, 1115, a. 9 approaches nearer Prot. 358 D than Lach. 198 B.

59^Cf. the references in Bonitz’s Index Arist. 599 a. and the preceding note.

60^ De An. 1, 2. 405, b. 27: διὸ καὶ τοῖς ὀνόμασιν ἀκολουθοῦσιν· οἱ μὲν γὰρ τὸ θερμὸν λέγοντες, (sc. τὴν ψυχὴν) ὅτι διὰ τοῦτο καὶ τὸ ζῆν ὠνόμασται, οἱ δὲ τὸ ψυχὴν διὰ τὴν ἀναπνοὴν καὶ τὴν κατάψυξιν καλεῖσθαι ψυχήν. Crat. 399 D: in the name ψυχὴν the consideration seems to have been, ὡς τοῦτο ἄρα, ὅταν παρῇ τῷ σώματι, αἴτιόν ἐστι τοῦ ζῆν αὐτῷ, τὴν τοῦ ἀναπνεῖν δύναμιν παρέχον καὶ ἀναψῦχον.

61b^ Hipp. Maj. 20 A, Socrates puts forth the definition tentatively, and immediately shows it to be useless, ὅτι τὸ καλόν ἐστι τὸ δι᾽ ἀκοῆς τε καὶ δι᾽ ὄψεως ἡδύ. The same definition is also mentioned by Aristotle, Top. vi. 7, 146, a. 21 as an example of a faulty disjunctive definition (οἶον τὸ καλόν τὸ δι᾽ ὄψεως ἢ τὸ δι᾽ ἀκοῆς ἡδύ). He does not, however, say whence he got it, and there is nothing to prevent our supposing that, like the definition quoted in Top. v. 5, 135, a. 12, it was originally propounded by some writer of the Sophistic period (some Prodicus or Gorgias), or else by some one unknown to us, and was met with by Aristotle in dependently of the Hippias; or that it was current in the Academic school (based on Phileb. 51 B sq., or a corresponding oral discussion) and was therefore known to Aristotle just as much as to the author of the Hippias, supposing him to have been other than Plato. The statement of it in Aristotle also varies considerably from that in the Hippias, and according to Metaph. v. 29 (vide p. 392, 3) Aristotle seems to have been acquainted with only one Hippias, viz. the Hippias Minor.

62^ Cf. p. 50, 13.

63^ Soph. El. 20, 177, b. 12 sq.; Rhet. 11, 24, 1401, a. 26; cf. vol. i. 914, 4, 3rd edit.

64^ Cf. Part I. 910 sq.

65^ The Phaedo 100 B sq., quoted p. 56, 24; p. 64, 42.

66^ Eth. iv. 1, 2, 1095, a. 26 is a reminiscence of Rep. vi. 507 a; vii. 517 C.

67^ p. 70.

68^ As is the case with the Parmenides; Ueberweg. plat. Schr. 176 sq.; Schaarschmidt, Samml. d. pl. Schr. 104.

69^ Metaph. 1, 987, b. 13: τὴν μέντοι γε μέθεξιν ἢ τὴν μίμησιν ἥτις ἂν εἴη τῶν εἰδῶν ἀφεῖσαν (Plato and the Pythagoreans) ἐν κοινῷ ζητεῖν.

70^ Metaph. 1, 9, 991, a. 20: τὸ δὲ λέγειν παραδείγματα αὐτὰ [sc. Τὰ εἴδη] εἶναι καὶ μετέχειν αὐτῶν τἆλλα κενολογεῖν ἐστὶ καὶ μεταφορὰς λέγειν ποιητικάς. τί γάρ ἐστι τὸ ἐργαζόμενον πρὸς τὰς ἰδέας ἀποβλέπον; Ibid. 992, a. 24; xii. 10, 1075, b. 19. In my Platon. Stud. 215, I have mentioned a similar instance, where Arist. (only incidentally) denies to Plato researches which he had actually made (Gen. et Corr. 1, 2, 315 a., 29 sq.; cf. Tim. 58 D sq., 70 B sq., 73-81).

71^ Or if it should be maintained in the latter case, that the Demiurgus is not a scientific explanation and might therefore have been left out of account by Aristotle, he might just as well waive the difficulties of the Parmenides because no positive determination is there given as to how we are to understand the participation of things in the Ideas.

72^ On which see p. 64, 42.

73^ Metaph. 1, 9, 992, a. 29: οὐδὲ δὴ ὅπερ ταῖς ἐπιστήμαις (so Alex. and Cod. A b; perhaps, however, ποιήσεις should be read instead of ἐπιστ.) ὁρῶμεν ὂν αἴτιον, δι᾽ ὃ καὶ πᾶς νοῦς καὶ πᾶσα φύσις ποιεῖ, οὐδὲ ταύτης τῆς αἰτίας, ἥν φαμεν εἶναι μίαν τῶν ἀρχῶν, οὐθὲν ἅπτεται τὰ εἴδη.

74^ Vide on this Part II., b, 220, 1, 2nd edit. Platon. Stud. 257.

75^ Cf. Part II. b. 217 sq., 2nd edit. and p. 113 sq. of this vol.

76^ De An. 1, 3, 406, b. 25; cf. p. 635 sq., 2nd edit.

77^ Laws x. 896, 897.

78^ See p. 50.

79^ How far this goes was discussed on p. 72.

80^ On what follows cf. the valuable paper of Steinhart, Ztschr. f. Phil. lviii. 55 sq.

81^ Plato, i. 349, 360, 439, 559; ii. 89, 125; iii. 165, 463, 521, 1.

82^ Cf. p. 49, 10.

83^ On the six others which Hermann has admitted cf. 57, 16.

84^ Cf. on this p. 49, 10.

85^ Schelling himself in fact retracted his decision against this dialogue (Philos. u. Rel. WW. 1, Abth. vi. 36) subsequently (WW. Abth. vii. 374); previously, however, it had been answered by Böckh (Stud. v. Daub. u. Creuzer iii. 28). Its repetition by certain writers, as for instance Weisse (z. Arist. Physik 274, 350, 471; Idee d. Gotth. 97) will nowadays lead no one into error. Among the express opponents of this view are Hermann, Plat. 699, and Steinhart, vi. 68 sq.

86^ Socher (Pl. Schr. 258-294) was the first to reject as spurious the Sophist, Politicus, and Parmenides, but he met with little support: afterwards Suckow (Form. d. plat. Schr. 1855, p. 78 sq., 86 sq.) tried to establish the same charge with regard to the Politicus, as did Ueberweg with regard to the Parmenides (Unters. plat. Schr. 1861, p. 176 sq.; Jahrb. f. Philol. lxxxv. 1863, p. 97 sq.); Schaarchmidt (Samml. d. plat. Schr. 1866, p. 160 sq., and previously in the Rhein. Mus. f. Philol. vol. xviii. 1; xix. 63 sq.; xx. 321 sq.) extended it from the Parmenides to the Sophist, Politicus, Cratylus, and Philebus, and Ueberweg (Gesch. d. Phil. i. 3, edit. 1867, p. 116; Philos. Monatschr. 1869, p. 473 sq.) agreed with him with regard to all these dialogues more or less decidedly: afterwards, however (4th edit, of Gesch. d. Phil, p. 124; Zeitschr. f. Philos. Ivii. 84), he retracted his opinion so far as to recognise the Cratylus and Philebus, while the Sophist and Politicus he regarded as composed from notes of Plato’s oral doctrines. The treatises in which Hayduck, Alberti, Deussen, Peipers, Pilger defend as Platonic the Sophist (Hayduck also the Politicus and Cratylus), Georgii the Philebus, Alberti, Benfey, Lehrs, Suckow, Dreykorn the Cratylus, and Druschle, Neumann, Susemihl, Schramm the Parmenides respectively, are mentioned by Ueberweg, Grundriss, i. 117, 4th edit.: for further details cf. Steinhart, Pl. St. Ztschr. f. Philos. lviii. 32 sq., 193 sq.; K. Planck on the Parmenides, Jahrb. f. Philol. cv. 433 sq., 529 sq.

87^ See p. 64 sq.

88^ We shall have an opportunity later on, in speaking of the doctrines contained in these works, to examine with more detail one or two of the points which are declared to be not Platonic: to notice all the particular objections of this kind is impossible in the limits of the present treatise. I will here merely point out how improbable it is, that works so valuable and written with so much dialectic skill, in spite of all the objections that we can make against them, could ever have been composed by any one in the Old Academy, which, as we know from Aristotle and other accounts, acquitted itself but poorly in abstruse speculation. The points of view which are to be adopted in the more intimate criticism of the writings have been already discussed, p. 77 sq.

89^ As Socher 369 sq.; Suckow 158 sq.: against him Susemihl, Jahrb. f. Philol. Ixxi. 703; Ueberweg, Plat. Schr. 186 sq.

90^ Rejected by Ast, Pl. L. und Schr. 394 sq., and Schaarsehmidt 342 sq., doubted by Ueberweg in his Grundriss i. 123, 4th edit.

91^ Phaedo 72 E sq. Cebes here says that pro-existence and immortality follow also κατ᾽ ἐκεῖνόν γε τὸν λόγον, ὦ Σώκρατες, εἰ ἀληθής ἐστιν, ὃν σὺ εἴωθας θαμὰ λέγειν, that μάθησις is nothing but ἀνάμνησις; and he proves this not only in reference to former discourses ἑνὶ μὲν λόγῳ, ἔφη ὁ Κέβης, καλλίστῳ, ὅτι, etc.), but by the fact worked out at length in the Meno, viz. that by means of properly arranged questions, we can elicit everything from a man, as is shown, for instance, in the case of geometrical figures. That there is a reference here to an earlier written treatise, which can only be the Meno, will be more obvious from a comparison of this brief allusion to something already known to the reader, with the prolix development of a further reason on p. 73 B sq., which is undoubtedly treated with such detail only because it has not occurred in any dialogue hitherto.

92^ Cf. p. 50, 13. Schaarschmidt, p. 341, has asserted that on the contrary the author of the Euthydemus made use of Aristotle’s Sophistical Fallacies. But he has not proved this, for the coincidence of many of the Sophisms which he quotes is by no means conclusive. It would rather, on this supposition, he very extraordinary that the very fallacy which Aristotle attributes to Euthydemus does not occur in the Platonic Euthydemus (vide p. 71, 63). Should we, however, adopt this supposition, and at the same time assert that the Euthydemus was used in the Politicus (Schaarschmidt, 326), we cannot leave the question undecided as to whether Aristotle had the Politicus, or the author of the Politicus had the Aristotelian treatise, before him. (This, however, Schaarschmidt does, p. 237 f.)

93^ Ast, 414 sq. Schaarschmidt, 326 sq.

94^ The object of the Euthydemus (on which Bonitz, Plat. Stud. 11, 28 sq., ought especially to be consulted) is to represent the opposition of Socratic and Sophistic views with regard to their value in the training and education of youth; and this opposition is brought before us here, not by means of a scientific and detailed statement, but by the actual exposition of the two parties themselves, in the form of a (narrated) drama, or rather of a satyric comedy. In the exposition of this subject Plato had to do, not merely with the views of the elder Sophists and their later developments, but also (as was found probable, Part i. p. 255, 2; 256, 1; cf. 248, 4; 253, 1; 254, 1) with Antisthenes,who seemed to him in true Sophistic fashion to destroy all possibility of cognition, to confuse Socratic with Sophistic views, and thereby spoil them, and with those refiners of language of the stamp of Isocrates (for that he is intended p. 305 B sq. is put beyond doubt after the proofs of Spengel, Abh. d. philos. philol. Kl. of the Acad. of Baireuth, vii. 764 sq.), who did not know how to distinguish between Socratic and Sophistic views, and hoped to get rid of the rivalry of the true philosophers if they brought the Sophists into discredit. In conformity with this object, the scientific refutation of the Sophistic views is not touched upon beyond a few allusions, while the Socratic philosophy is expounded only in its simplest practical form nothing new is propounded nor any speculative views enunciated, which might weaken the impression intended to be conveyed here, and in the eyes of an unphilosophical reader might wear the appearance of Sophistry. If Plato voluntarily exercised this self-restraint at a time when he was already firmly in possession of his doctrine of Ideas (Euthyd. 300 E eq.), he must certainly have had some special inducement; and the present theory will sufficiently explain the fact.

95^ Supporters as well as opponents of the Euthydemus have not seldom failed to make this distinction. E.g., Schaarschmidt, p. 339, amongst many other censures of the artificiality of this dialogue (which are not clear to me), takes offence because Ctesippus, 303 A., when the buffoonery of Dionysodorus has reached its height, gives up further opposition, with the words ἀφίσταμαι: ἀμάχω τὼ ἄνδρε, where, however, the irony is palpable. Still more unintelligible, at least in my opinion, is the assertion on p. 334 that the mention of Isocrates as the head of a school (Euthyd. 305 B) is such a flagrant violation of chronology that we cannot attribute it to Plato. If this is an un-Platonic anachronism, what must Schaarschmidt think of the anachronisms in the Symposium, the Gorgias, the Protagoras, and the Laws (cf. my treatise on the Anachronisms of the Plat. Dial., Abh. d. Berl. Akad. 1873. Hist. Phil. Kl. 79 sq.), which, however, he rightly accepts without scruple? But the Euthydemus not only does not mention Isocrates as the head of a school, but does not mention him at all; it simply represents Socrates as drawing a scientific character, in which the reader was to recognise Isocrates. This was just as possible and just as little an anachronism as Schaarschmidt’s supposed reference to Antisthenes in the Theaetetus. Grote (Plato, vol. i. 559), without doubting the genuineness of the Euthydemus, remarks that Euthydemus is treated as the representative of true philosophy and dialectic, though this is in glaring contradiction with all that precedes. But Plato states nothing of the kind: he merely says certain people regard the Sophists (τοὺς ἀμφὶ Εὐθύδημον)as their rivals, and seek therefore (because they confound the Sophists with the true philosophers) to disparage the philosophers.

96^ Cf. p. 70, 54.

97^ As Ast, 474 sq. 492 sq. decides with his usual confidence: on the other hand Schaarschmidt does not give any decided opinion.

98^ Vide Part i. p. 163, 1 and Ueberweg, Plat. Schr. 237 sq.

99^ Following tho precedent of Hermann, Brandis and Steinhart (differing from my Plat. Stud. 150 in reference to the Hippias Minor), I have endeavoured to prove this in the Ztschr.f. Alterthumsw., 1851, p. 250 sq. The same view is embraced by Susemihl and Munkin the works I have so frequently quoted, also by Stein, Gesch. d. Plat. i. 80 sq., 135 sq., and Ueberweg (Gesch. d. Phil. 4th edit. i. 121 sq.): on the contrary, Ribbing, Genet. Darst. d. plat. Ideenl. ii. 129 sq., 103 sq., decides that the Enthyphro, Laches, Charmides, and Lysis, are genuine, while the Hippias Minor he considers to be spurious. Schaarschmidt (Samml. d. plat. Schr. 382 sq.) rejects the whole five dialogues. The latter is opposed by Bonitz in an exhaustive disquisition Zur Erkl. plat. Dialoge (Hermes v.), 429 sq., specially with regard to the Laches. On the evidence of Aristotle vide p. 58, 31, 70; on the Euthyphro, Part i. p. 161, 1.

100^ On which cf. 54.

101^With this judgment as regards the Menexenus, which I have already put forward in my Platonic Stud. 144 sq., following Ast, most of those who have treated the question, besides Grote, have since declared themselves in agreement; the question is discussed with particular thoroughness by Steinhart (Plat. W.W. vi. 372 sq.). I will refrain from entering upon it here, especially as the Menexenus is in no way an independent source for Platonic philosophy; Plato’s relation to Rhetoric can in no instance be determined from this dialogue, and, in fact,even if genuine, its scope can only be conceived according to the explanations we give of other dialogues.

102^ Cf. Ztschr. f. Alterthumsw., 1851, p. 256 sq. Nor do I find anything in Munk to contradict this, view.

103^ Commentatio. Critica de Platonis qure feruntur epistolis. Utr. 1864.

104^ Pl. Werke, viii. 279 sq. Pl. L., 9 sq. A review of the earlier literature is given by the first of these passages, and by Karsten in the Introduction.

105^ This is the general opinion of earlier scholars. We may refer once for all to Brucker, 1, 659 sq., who gives a thorough and sensible investigation of the reasons for this concealment and the artifices employed; and Tennemann, System d. Plat, 1, 128 sq. 264, 111, 126, 129. Ast, Plat. Leb. n. Schr. 511, gives further details.

106^ Plato’s Werke, 1, 1, 11 sq.; cf. Ritter, ii. 178 sq., and Socher Pl. Schr. 392 sq.

107^ One of its last supporters is Weisse, in the notes to his translation of Aristotle’s Physics (pp. 271 sq.; 313, 329 sq.; 403 sqq.; 437 sq.; 445 sq.; 471 sq.), and de Anima, pp. 123-143. Hermann (Ueber Plato’s Schrifstell Motive, Ges. Abh. 281 sq.) comes rather close to it when he asserts that we must not look for the nucleus of Plato’s doctrine in his writings, and that his literary activity never aimed at establishing and developing an organic system of philosophy. Hermann would hardly say that Plato ignored or gave up all philosophic scope in his writings. But, according to his view, the writings only contain incidental hints of the real principles of Plato’s system, the supra-sensuous doctrine of ideas. The application of the principles to questions and circumstances of the phenomenal world is given in the writings; the enunciation of the principles themselves was reserved for oral discourse. If, however, the inquiries of the Theaetetus on the conception of knowledge, the discussions of the Sophist. Parmenides, Philebus, Symposium, Phaedo, Republic, and Timaeus on the nature of conceptions, the intended exposition in the ‘Philosopher,’ and, in fact, all the passages from which we are now able to form so complete a representation of the doctrine of Ideas — if these were not meant to expound and establish the principles of the system, it becomes difficult to account for them. They may sometimes exhibit a connection with alien questions; but it would argue little acquaintance with Plato’s artistic method to conclude from this that they were introduced only incidentally. And Plato — v. Phaedrus, 274 B sqq. — makes no division between the principles and their application. Indeed, it would have been rather preposterous to communicate the application of philosophic principles, by means of his writings, to all the world, even beyond the limits of his school, while he with held the principles themselves, without which the application could not fail to be misunderstood. Ueberweg (Unters. plat. Schr. 65) brings forward in support of Hermann the fact that the Timaeus and other writings give merely brief references to many points of essential importance. But he adds that it is the doctrine of the elements of the ideal world and of the soul that is dismissed with these passing notices, rather than the doctrine of ideas. And how do we know that at the time these treatises were written (there can be no question here, it must be remembered, of the Laws), the former doctrine had received its full development? Hermann eventually finds himself obliged to qualify considerably; and, in fact, his former assertions almost disappear. He allows, p. 298, that the Sophist and Parmenides, for instance, are concerned with philosophic principles; but he would account for this by referring them to an earlier period than the Phaedrus. This may be disputed; and, at any rate, is in itself no justification for saying that philosophic principles are only incidentally referred to in Plato’s writings. On page 300 he makes a further concession: the writings of the Middle Period the Sophist, etc. are directly motived by scientific instruction, and seek to expound systematically the philosopher’s fundamental opinions. Finally, he contents himself with saying of the later writings, We cannot expect to find his highest principles enunciated here in broad unmistakable terms (no intelligent student would have any such expectations); such enunciations were reserved for his oral discourses (which seems highly improbable). But, continues Hermann, these principles arc so stamped upon the dialogues, that none with eyes to sec can miss any point of real importance; and the dialogues may be used as trustworthy authorities for his philosophic system. In these words we have everything we could wish for granted.

108^ The Phaedrus, 274 B sqq., cannot be quoted in support. Plato is only showing there that the thing written is of no worth in itself, but only in so far as it helps recollection of the thing spoken. He does not say that the content of what is orally delivered should not be written down, but conversely, that that only should be written which has passed in personal intercourse. The Timaeus, 28 C, is not more relevant; for, granted the impossibility of discussing anything except with persons of special knowledge, it does not follow that such discussion may not be in written works. Written works may be designed for specialists, and composed so that only they can understand them. In Ep. Plat. vii. 341 B sq.; 11, 312 D sq., we find for the first time something of the alleged secretiveness, in the assertion that no true philosopher entrusts his real thoughts to writing. But this is only one more proof of the spuriousness of the letters, and there is a great deal required to prove that the seventh letter (with Herm. loc. cit.) is just as authentic as anything that Plato tells us about Socrates. As to Aristotle’s frequent quotations from Plato’s oral discourses (vide subter, and p. 46, 5), several questions present themselves. First: How far do his accounts vary from the contents of the Platonic writings? Secondly: Are these variations to be ascribed to Plato himself, or to our informant? And, thirdly: May they not be explained by supposing a real change in Plato’s way of thought or teaching? We shall discuss these points further on.

109^ E.g., the Platonic letters just quoted, which betray themselves at once by their clumsy exaggerations. The second letter, by the way, says that the Platonic writings were the work of Socrates in his youth. Another instance is Numenius apud Eusebium, Preparatio Evangelica, xiv. 5, 7 (cf. xiii. 5), who says that Plato wrote in a purposely obscure style, as a measure of precaution; Simpl. De Anim. 7, loc. cit. (of Plato and his pupils); ἐν ἀποῤῥήτοις μόνοις τοῖς ἀξίπις παραδιδόντες τὴν φιλοσοφίαν πρὸςτοὺς ἄλλους διὰ τῶν μαθηματικῶν αὐτὴν ἐπεδείκνυντο ὀνομάτων; cf. Cicero De Universo, 2, who supposes Plato to say (in the Timaeus, 28 c.), that it is not safe to speak openly of the Deity; and Josephus contra Apionem, 11, 31, cf. Krische Forschungen, 183 sq.

110^ Phaedrus, 276 D; cf. preceding note.

111^ Cf. on this my Plat. Stud. p. 201 sq.

112^ Cf. also Hegel, Gesch. d. Phil. II. 157 sq., 161 sq.

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III. The Order of the Platonic Works

Our historical comprehension of the Platonic philosophy would be greatly facilitated did we possess more accurate knowledge of the dates of the several works, and the circumstances which influenced or gave rise to them. We should not only then understand much that now in particular dialogues either escapes our notice or remains a mystery, and be better informed as to their design and treatment, but we should also be in a position to judge with greater certainty of the mutual relations of the several works, and to follow step by step the development of Plato’s system, so far as it is reflected in his writings. Unfortunately, however, we have not the means of accomplishing all this The scanty notices of ancient authors as to the date and purpose of certain works are sometimes so untrustworthy that we cannot at all depend upon them,1 and |93| sometimes tell us nothing more than we might ourselves have derived from the works.2 The information to be obtained from these as to their interconnection, design, and time of composition is necessarily of a very limited character. For as they profess to be records of Socratic dialogues, we find indeed in many of them the date and occasion of the alleged conversation either directly or indirectly given; but as to the time when they themselves were composed they are silent, and we can only in a few cases discover from the setting of a dialogue or from one of those anachronisms which Plato allowed himself with so much poetic license, the earliest date to which it can be assigned, and with some probability that also of its composition.3 It is likewise a consequence of their |94| dramatic form, that the conversation should often develop itself from apparently accidental circumstances, without any definite theme being proposed; and even where there is such a theme, we still cannot be sure that it is the sole, or even the ultimate, end of the dialogue — the end by which we are to estimate its relations to other works; for the reply to this main question is often interwoven with further enquiries of such importance and scope that it is impossible to regard them as merely subsidiary to the solution of the more limited problem at first proposed.4 The final result also seems not unfrequently to be purely negative, consisting in the failure of all attempts to answer some query;5 and though we cannot with Grote6 conclude from this that Plato’s design never extended beyond the refutation of every dogmatic assertion, and the exposition of that elenclitic method by which |95| Socrates confounded the fancied knowledge of his interlocutors; and that his criticism and dialectics neither rest on any positive conviction, nor even in directly lead to any;7 yet the positive element, that which is wanted to complete the critical discussions, is not always so evident as to be unmistakable. Again, if a dialogue relates to phenomena of the post-Socratic period, and perhaps is partly occasioned by them, Plato can only in the rarest instance8 allow his Socrates plainly to speak of these phenomena; he is therefore restricted to hints, which were probably sufficiently comprehensible to the majority of his first readers, but may easily be overlooked or misinterpreted by us.9 The same holds good with regard to the mutual |96| interdependence of the dialogues. There cannot be a direct allusion in one dialogue to another, unless the same persons appear in both;10 where this is not the case, the only way in which the later dialogue can point to the earlier is by shortly summing up the results of the former discussions, with the remark that the matter has been already considered.11 But here again it is easy to make mistakes to overlook the relation between two dialogues, or to imagine one that does not exist; and even when there is no doubt of such interdependence, the question may still sometimes arise which of the writings is the earlier and which the later. There are thus many difficulties, not only in the way of a decision respecting the motive, aim, and plan of the several dialogues,12 but even of an enquiry into their order, date, and interdependence. Are they so related to each other as to form one, or perhaps more than one, connected series, or ought we to regard them merely as isolated productions, in which Plato according as occasion or inclination prompted hit disclosed now one and now another fragment of his system, and brought his theories of life and of the world to bear on various subjects, sometimes even on those which had no direct reference to his philosophy?13 |97| Supposing the former alternative to be the case, — is the connection of the writings the result of calculation and design? Or did it evolve itself naturally in the course of the author’s life and mental development? Or were all these causes simultaneously at work, so that the origin and sequence of the Platonic writings should be ascribed partly to the philosopher’s mental growth, partly to literary and artistic design, and partly also to accidental occasions? What influence again had each of these moments generally and particularly? And how, lastly, on either of the above presuppositions, are we to decide on the date and succession of tho several works? On all these points, as is well known, opinions differ widely. Many of the ancient grammarians and commentators divided the works of Plato into certain groups and classes,14 according to the affinity of |98| their form or contents; and by this they apparently meant that they were following, at any rate partially, the order observed by Plato himself.15 Their assumptions are, however, so arbitrary; Platonic doctrines are grouped from such un-Platonic points of view — the spirit and deeper reference of individual works are so little understood — the spurious is so greatly intermingled with the genuine, that this first attempt to determine the order of the writings was rather deterrent |99| than encouraging;16 and the same judgment must be passed on those modern attempts which followed in the track of Thrasyllus and Albinus.17 Even Tennemann’s enquiries into the chronological order of the Platonic works,18 useful as they were in their time, are generally superficial in their neglect of any fixed and decisive point of view. The notion of an arrangement based upon the internal connection of the dialogues was first fully and satisfactorily carried out in Schleiermacher’s brilliant work. According to this author,19 Plato, as he certainly considered written instruction inferior to spoken,20 and yet continued writing to such an extent even in old age, must have manifestly sought to make his writings resemble conversation as much as possible. Now the weak point of written teaching, as he himself intimates, is this: that it must always remain uncertain whether the reader has really apprehended the thought of the writer; and that there is no opportunity for defence against objections, or for the removal of misunderstandings. In order, as far as might be, to remedy these defects, Plato in his writings must have made it a rule so to conduct and plan every enquiry that the reader should be driven either to the origination of the required thought, or to the distinct consciousness of having missed it; and as the plan of |100| each separate dialogue clearly shows this design, there arises a natural sequence and a necessary mutual reference in the dialogues collectively. Plato could make no advance in any dialogue unless he presumed a certain effect to have been produced by its predecessor; consequently that which formed the conclusion of one must be presupposed as the basis and commencement of another. And as he regarded the various philosophical sciences, not as many and separate, but as essentially united and indivisible, there would result from this not many parallel independent orders of Platonic dialogues, but one all-embracing order. In this order, Schleiermacher proceeds to distinguish three divisions:21 the elementary, the indirectly enquiring, and the expository or constructive dialogues. He does not maintain that the chronological succession of the works must necessarily and minutely correspond with this internal relation, nor that occasionally from some accidental reason that which came earlier in order of thought may not have appeared later in order of time. He claims only that his order should coincide in the main with the chronological order.22 He allows that secondary works of comparatively less importance are intermingled with the principal dialogues, and he would also make room for those occasional writings which do not lie at all within the sphere of philosophy.23 These concessions, however, do not affect his general canon.24 |101|

Ast agrees with Schleiermacher in distinguishing three classes of dialogues;25 but differs from him considerably in his principle of classification, in his distribution of particular dialogues among the three classes, and in his judgment of their authenticity. Schleiermacher is still more decidedly opposed by Socher26 and Stallbaum27 in their attempt at a chronological order,28 but neither of these writers fully |102| established this order, or reduced it to a fixed principle. Hermann was the first to controvert the conclusions of Schleiermacher by a new theory, founded on a definite view of the origin of the Platonic writings;29 for his predecessor Herbart, while seeking to prove the gradual transformation of the doctrine of ideas by the help of the dialogues,30 had not applied this point of view to our collection as a whole. Like Schleiermacher, Hermann is convinced that the Platonic writings, collectively, represent a living, organic development; but he seeks the cause of this phenomenon, not in any design or calculation on the part of their author, but in the growth of his mind. They are not, in his opinion, a mere exposition of philosophic development for others, but a direct consequence of Plato’s individual development, Plato, he thinks, ripened only |103| gradually, and under the influences of his time; the stadia along his course are marked by the different classes of his writings. The two events of greatest consequence in his mental history are, according to Hermann, the death of Socrates, with its immediate result, Plato’s withdrawal to Megara; and his own first journey, which acquainted him with the Pythagorean doctrine.31 While these indicate the chief periods of his intellectual life and literary activity, they also furnish us with three classes of dialogues — the Socratic or elementary; the dialectic or mediatising; the expository or constructive. The dialogues of the first class, written in part before the death of Socrates, in part immediately after, have a fragmentary, more exclusively elenchtic and protreptic character, confine themselves almost entirely to the Socratic manner, and as yet go no deeper into the fundamental questions of philosophy. The second class is distinguished by greater dryness, less liveliness, less carefulness of form, and by that searching criticism (sometimes approving, sometimes polemical) of the Megaro-Eleatic philosophy, which occupied the time of Plato’s sojourn in Megara. In the third period, there is on the one hand, as to style, a return to the freshness and fullness of the first;32 while on the other, Plato’s horizon has been enlarged by the enquiries of the Megarian period, by residence in foreign countries, and especially by the knowledge he there acquired of the Pythagorean philosophy; and from the fusion of all these elements we get the most perfect expositions of his system, in which the Socratic form receives the deepest content, and thus attains its highest ideal.33 The views of modern writers on this question fluctuate for the most part between Schleiermacher and Hermann. For example, Ritter34 and Brandis,35 and more recently Ribbing,36 |105| follow Schleiermacher in the main; Schwegler37 and Steinhart ally themselves with Hermann;38 |106| Susemihl tries to reconcile both,39 and similarly Ueberweg,40 holding that the view of Plato’s works, as evincing a gradual development of his philosophy, has no less historical justification than the other view of a methodical design determining the order of the works, demands that the two principles should be to some extent the limit, and to some extent the complement, one of the other. He ultimately inclines very much to the side of Schleiermacher, placing, however, the commencement of Plato’s literary career much later than Schleiermacher does, and differing considerably from all his predecessors with regard to the order of the several writings.41 The theories of Munk and |107| Weisse stand almost alone. While most commentators since Schleiermacher have based their enquiry into the order of the Platonic books chiefly on the contents, these two writers pay much more attention to the form; Munk taking his criterion of earlier or later authorship from the date to which each dialogue is internally assigned,42 and Weisse from the distinction of direct and narrated dialogues.43 A few other authors, who |108| have never sought definitely to establish their theories,44 can only be shortly mentioned in this place. |109|

If we would gain a sure standard for this enquiry, the ostensible date of the dialogues and the historical position which Socrates occupies in them must not be taken into account; for we have no proof at all that the order which would thus result is the order in which they were composed, or that Plato ever intended to portray his master in a continuous, biographical manner. Indeed, this assumption is refuted, not only by the indications given in several of the works as to the time when they were written,45 but also by the circumstance that the Socrates of Plato discourses of philosophy46 in exactly the same manner, in age and in youth; and during the last years of his life pursues enquiries which formed the elementary groundwork of dialogues purporting to be earlier.47 The fact that Plato in the Theaetetus explicitly makes choice of the direct dramatic form of conversation to avoid the inconveniences of second-hand repetition,48 |110| and that he elsewhere more than once connects, either expressly or by an unmistakable reference, a direct dialogue with an indirect one preceding it,49 would of itself suffice to rebut the theory of Weisse; for the suppositions that are necessary to countervail this evidence50 go much farther than is permissible to pure conjecture. Nor have we any right to suppose; that Plato gave unconditional preference to the repeated dialogue, except in cases where it was important for the attainment of the required end — to describe with some minuteness the persons, motives, and accompanying circumstances of the conversation;51 he doubtless, during his whole literary career, employed both forms indifferently, as occasion offered. There are other and more important clues by which we can to some extent determine the chronological order of the writings, and |111| also the question whether or not that order arises from conscious design. Such are the references in various dialogues to events in Plato’s lifetime: they are, however, but few in number, and point only to the date before, and not after, which a dialogue could not have been written.52 While, therefore, much valuable information of a particular kind is to be gained from them, they do not nearly suffice for the arrangement of the works as a whole. A further criterion might be found in the development of Plato’s literary art. But though first attempts, as a rule, are wont to betray themselves by a certain amount of awkwardness, it does not follow that the artistic excellence of an author’s works keeps exact pace with his years. For liveliness of mimetic description and dramatic movement, even delicacy of taste and sensitiveness to form, are with most persons, after a certain age, on the decline; and even before that period, artistic form may be kept in the background by the exigences of strictly scientific enquiry; the mood of an author, the circumstances in which he writes, the purpose for which particular works were composed, may determine the amount of care bestowed and of finish attained, without affording us a clue as to their relative dates; and again, that which Plato intended for the narrow circle of his personal disciples would probably be less ornate as to style than writings designed to awaken scientific interest in a large and mixed number of readers, and to give them their first introduction to philosophy.53 On similar grounds, |112| however, the scientific method in each later work is not necessarily more perfect than in the earlier, though, on the whole, the fluctuations may be slighter and the progress more steady and continuous. Although therefore, in considering the mutual relation of two dialogues, this point of view ought not to be disregarded, in many cases the question cannot be decided by reference to it alone. The philosophic content of the various writings affords a safer test. But here also we must begin by enquiring to what extent and under what conditions the relative dates of the dialogues may be inferred from differences in their contents; and what are the characteristics which show whether an exposition really belongs to an earlier stage of its author’s development or was purposely carried less far. Plato’s own statements give us no information on this point. In a much criticised passage of the Phaedrus (274 C sqq.) he objects to written expositions on the grounds that they are not restricted to persons who are capable of understanding them, but come into the hands of every one alike, and are therefore liable to all kinds of |113| misconception and unfounded abuse; he would have them regarded in the light of a mere pastime, useful indeed for reminding those already instructed of what in after years they may have forgotten, but far less valuable than personal influence, by which others are scientifically educated and led to right moral convictions. However important this passage may be in another connection, it affords us no help in determining the order, date, and interdependence of the Platonic writings. We cannot conclude from it, as Schleiermacher does, that Plato in each of the dialogues must have assumed the result of an earlier one — unless it be previously shown that there existed among the dialogues a single interconnected order; for particular dialogues could serve very well for a reminder of oral discourse, and the thoughts engendered by it, even were there no such connection among them. Nor can we presuppose, with Socher54 and his followers, that Plato could only have expressed himself in this manner at the time when he had commenced, or was about to commence, his school in the Academy; for, in the first place, there was nothing to hinder his exercising that intellectual influence on others — the planting of words in souls fitted for them — of which he here speaks, even before the establishment of regular teaching in the Academy; and, secondly, it is quite possible that in this passage he is not contrasting his literary activity with that kind of instruction which, as a matter of |114| fact, he employed, but with the kind he desired, and, according to the Socratic precedent, kept before him as his ideal.55 Still less can the quotation from the Phaedrus lend support to the theory that the compilation of all the dialogues was bound up with Plato’s instructions in the Academy;56 for, understand it as we will, it only expresses the opinion of the author at that particular time, and we do not know how early it was adopted or how long retained. That in his more comprehensive works at least, he entered upon subjects which in his oral teaching he either passed over, or dealt with more slightly, is in itself likely, and is confirmed by the citations of Aristotle.57 If, however, it is impossible, even from this passage, to discover either the principles followed by Plato in the arrangement of his writings, or the time when these were composed, the scientific contents themselves contain evidences by which we can distinguish, with more or less certainty, the earlier from the later works. It cannot, indeed, be expected that Plato should expound his whole system in each individual work: it is, on the contrary, sufficiently clear that he often starts in a preliminary and tentative manner from presuppositions of which he is himself certain. But in all the strictly philosophic writings, the state of his own scientific conviction is sure to be somehow betrayed: he either directly enunciates it, if only by isolated hints, when he is designedly confining an enquiry to a subordinate and |115| merely preparatory stage; or he allows it to be in directly perceived in ordering the whole course of the argument towards a higher aim, and foreshadows in the statement of problems their solution in the spirit of his system. If, therefore, out of a number of works, otherwise related to one another, we find some that are wanting in certain fundamental determinations of Platonism, and do not even indirectly require them; while in others these very determinations unmistakably appear — we must conclude that at the time when the former were written, these points were not clearly established in Plato’s own mind, or at any rate not so clearly as when he wrote the latter. If, again, two writings essentially presuppose the same scientific stand-point, but in one of them it is more definitely stated and more fully evolved; if that which in the one case is only prepared for indirectly, or generally established, in the other is distinctly maintained and carried out into particulars, it is probable that the preparatory and less advanced exposition was purposely meant to precede the more perfect and more systematically developed. The same holds good of Plato’s references to the pre-Socratic doctrines. He may indeed have been acquainted with these doctrines to a greater or less extent, without expressly touching on them; but as we find him in the majority of his works either openly concerned with the most important, or at any rate unmistakably pointing to them, while in others he silently passes them by — it is at least highly probable that the latter, generally speaking, date from a time when he did not bestow much attention on those |116| doctrines, or was much less influenced by them than he afterwards became. Even if we suppose that he purposely abstained from mentioning them, we must still, in the absence of any internal proof to the contrary, consider those writings as the earlier in which such mention does not occur; for in that case the most probable assumption would be that his silence proceeded from a desire to ground his readers thoroughly on a Socratic foundation, before introducing them to the pre-Socratic science.

Lastly, great weight must be allowed to the allusions of one dialogue to another. These allusions indeed, as before remarked,58 can very seldom take the form of direct citation; yet there are often clear indications that the author intended to bring one of his works into close connection with some other. If in a particular dialogue an enquiry is taken up at a point where in another it is broken off; if thoughts which in the one case are stated problematically or vaguely suggested, in the other are definitely announced and scientifically established; or if, conversely, conceptions, and theories are in one place attained only after long search, and are elsewhere treated as acknowledged truths, everything favours the supposition that the one dialogue must be later in date than the other, and intended as the application of its results. The author may either, in the composition of the earlier dialogue, have had the later one in view, or he may himself only have attained to the more advanced stand-point in the interval of time between them. In certain cases it |117| may still be doubtful whether a discussion is related to another as preparatory groundwork or complementary superstructure: in general, however, further enquiry will decide.

If then we attempt to apply these principles to the question before us, we shall find, as might be expected, that none of the theories we have been considering can be rigidly carried out; that the order of the Platonic writings cannot depend wholly either on design and calculation to the exclusion of all the influences arising from external circumstances and Plato’s own development; or on the gradual growth of Plato’s mind, to the exclusion of any ulterior plan; or, still less, on particular moods, occasions, and impulses. We shall not press the assumptions of Schleiermacher to the extent of supposing that Plato’s whole system of philosophy and the writings in which it is contained stood from the first moment of his literary activity complete before his mind, and that during the fifty years or more over which that activity extended he was merely executing the design thus formed in his youth. Even Schleiermacher did not go so far as this; and though he constantly refers the order of the Platonic works too exclusively to conscious design, we shall not very greatly diverge from his real opinion if we suppose that when Plato began to write, he was indeed clear about the fundamental points of his system, and had traced out the general plan by which he meant to unfold it in his writings; that this plan, however, was not at once completed in its details, but that the grand outlines which alone in the commencement floated before him |118| were afterwards gradually filled in perhaps, also, sometimes in compliance with special circumstances altered and enlarged, according to the growth of his knowledge and the recognition of more definite scientific necessities.59 On the other hand Hermann’s point of view does not involve the conclusion, though he himself seems to arrive at it — that Plato put together his system from outside, mechanically joining piece to piece, and expounding it in writings farther and farther, according as he became acquainted with this or that older school. The same principle of interpretation applies equally on the supposition that he developed the Socratic doctrine from within; and that, instead of his acquaintance with another system of philosophy being the cause of his advance to another stage of his philosophic development, the progress of his own philosophic conviction was in fact the cause of increased attention to his predecessors. Lastly, if, in explaining the origin and sequence of the Platonic writings, we chiefly rely on external circumstances and personal moods,60 even then we need not, with Grote,61 pronounce the whole question hopeless, we can still enquire whether the contents of the works do not prove a gradual change in their author’s stand-point, or the relation of one dialogue to another. This whole matter, however, is not to be decided on à priori |119| grounds, but only by careful consideration of the Platonic writings themselves.

Among these writings, then, there are certainly several which not only make passing allusion to phenomena of the time, but are only comprehensible in relation to definite historical events. The chief purpose of the Apology is to give the speech of Socrates in his own defence; that of the Crito, to explain the reasons by which he was deterred from flight out of, prison;62 the Euthyphro seems to have been occasioned by the indictment of Socrates, in conjunction with another concurrent incident;63 the Euthydemus by the appearance of Antisthenes together with that of Isocrates, and the charges brought by both against Plato.64 But even in such works as these, which, strictly speaking, are to be considered as occasional, the stand-point of the author is so clearly manifest that we can without difficulty assign them to a particular period of his life. The main purpose, however, of the great majority of the dialogues, be their outer motive what it may, is the representation and establishment of the Platonic philosophy: it is therefore all the more to be expected that we should in some measure be able to trace in them how far Plato at the time of their composition had either himself advanced in the formation of his system, or to what point he then desired to conduct the reader; and on what grounds he assumes that his system might be known to the reader from earlier |120| writings. Now we can discover in one part of these writings, nothing that carries us essentially beyond the Socratic standpoint. In the Lesser Hippias, Lysis, Charmides, Laches, Protagoras, Euthyphro, Apology, Crito, there is as yet not a hint of that doctrine which marks the fundamental distinction between the Platonic and Socratic conceptional Philosophy: the doctrine of the independent existence of ideas, above and beside that of phenomena.65 Neither do they contain any discussions on Natural Science or Anthropology;66 the belief in immortality is but doubtfully touched on in the Apology;67 and the Crito (54 B) only presupposes the popular notions about Hades, without a reference to the more philosophic belief, or to the Pythagorean myths, which later on are hardly ever left unnoticed in passages treating of future retribution. In none of these dialogues does Socrates occupy himself with anything beyond those ethical enquiries, in which, according |121| to history, the real Socrates was entirely absorbed; in none does he exhibit more intimate knowledge of the earlier systems, — in none does he cope with other adversaries than those who actually did oppose him, the Sophists. The doctrine of virtue has still the older originally Socratic stamp: the virtue of the wise is alone regarded as virtue, and all particular virtues are reduced to knowledge, without the recognition of an unphilosophical virtue side by side with the philosophical, or the admission of a plurality of virtues, such as we afterwards find.68 A certain crudity of method is also evident in all these dialogues.69 The amount of mimetic by-play bears no proportion to the meagreness of the philosophic contents: throughout the dramatic description is lively, while the scientific conversation proceeds laboriously and interruptedly with elementary determinations. Even the Protagoras, with all its artistic excellence, is not free from discussions of fatiguing prolixity, and the explanation of the verse of Simonides (338 E sqq.) especially disturbs the transparency of its plan, and looks very like a piece of youthful ostentation. Finally, if we compare the argument of the Gorgias (495 sqq.) against the identity of the good and pleasure, with that of the Protagoras (351 B sqq.), which leaves this identity still as a hypothesis, it is clear that the latter must be earlier than the former, and consequently than all the dialogues succeeding it.70 Separately all these indications may |122| be inconclusive; collectively, they certainly warrant the opinion, that at the time of his composing the above-named works, Plato, as regards the scientific form, was less skilled in the art of developing conceptions; and as regards the contents, was still essentially limited to the scope and results of the Socratic teaching.71 This |123| must doubtless have been the case while he remained under the personal influence of Socrates, and we might therefore be inclined to place all these dialogues in the period before or immediately after the death of Socrates.72 But there are many to which this theory could not be extended without ascribing to the youthful Plato an improbable amount of creative skill in the use of the philosophic dialogue, an artistic form which he had himself introduced; and even if we restrict it to the works already named, it may still be asked73 whether Plato, while his master was still alive, and everyone might listen to his discourses, would have ascribed to him other discourses of his own invention. This, however, does not make it impossible that Plato may have attempted to compose Socratic dialogues, even in the lifetime of Socrates, and may perhaps have written them down, without allowing them to go beyond the circle of his intimate friends;74 but it is very unlikely that he should at that time have produced so elaborate a work as the Protagoras, which, by his whole plan and design, was evidently meant for the public. This may more properly perhaps be assigned with the Apology and Crito75 to the interval between |124| the death of Socrates and the commencement of the Egyptian journey;76 and in conjunction with the |125| Laches, Charmides, and Lysis, may have been intended as a portrayal of Socrates and his philosophy, which, though full of poetic freedom and invention, was in the main true to nature, and might therefore be used by Aristotle as historical evidence.77 About the same date, but rather earlier than the Apology, the Euthyphro may have been written with a similar design: unless indeed it belongs to the time of Socrates trial.78

It is otherwise with the Gorgias, Meno, Theaetetus, and Euthydemus. These four dialogues, judging from the references in them to contemporary events, must not only be later, and for the most part many years later, than the Protagoras and the death of Socrates;79 but they also in their scientific content |126| point unmistakably to a time when Plato had already laid the corner stone of his system in the theory of ideas,80 when he had appropriated the Pythagorean notions of the transmigration of souls and a retribution after death,81 and connected them by means of the doctrine of Anamnesis with that theory;82 with which |127| indeed the whole belief in immortality as he understood it was so bound up that both must have arisen almost simultaneously.83 Since therefore these dialogues |128| occupy themselves quite disproportionately with elementary enquiries into the most universal moral principles, concerning the oneness and teachableness of virtue, the conception of knowledge, and the like; the reason cannot be that Plato had not himself advanced essentially beyond the Socratic stand-point and the earliest beginnings of his own system, — it must lie in methodical calculation. The author here intentionally confines himself to what is elementary, because he wants first to establish this on all sides, to secure the foundation of his building, before raising it higher. His method in the Cratylus, Sophist, Politicus, and Parmenides must be criticised from a similar point of view. These dialogues decidedly presuppose the doctrine of ideas:84 in the Politicus Plato, besides laying down his theory of government, also gives expression to several important determinations of his natural philosophy,85 betraying Pythagorean influence |129| not only in these, but in other more distinct references to that school of his predecessors.86 Consequently it cannot be supposed that at the date of these dialogues he had not yet perfected his philosophic principle, nor occupied himself with the Pythagoreans; and though, as to contents and method, he is here most nearly allied with the Eleatic-Megarian philosophy, this merely proves that he desired to lead his readers onward from that starting point, not that he himself had not already passed it.

As little are we compelled, on account of the definite prominence in the Phaedrus of the doctrine of ideas, and the changing existences of the soul, to consider that dialogue as later than the Sophist, Statesman, and Parmenides,87 or even than the Gorgias, Meno, Euthydemus, Cratylus, and Theaetetus.88 It is quite as possible |130| that Plato here mythically foretells convictions which were already in his mind during the writing of those dialogues, but which, for the sake of the systematic evolution of his doctrines, he had for the present set aside: that the Phaedrus may thus be the introduction to a longer series of writings, designed from its position to afford the reader a preliminary view of the goal, hereafter to be frequently hidden from his eyes, as he presses towards it by the long and tortuous road of methodical enquiry. This possibility rises into probability if we take into consideration all those traces of youthfulness which others have observed;89 if we remark that some important points of doctrine are in this work, as in the glow of a first discovery, still wanting in the closer limitation which Plato was afterwards obliged to give them;90 if we note how, in |131| the second part, the elements of the scientific method are as if for the first time laid down, and the name and conception of Dialectic, already familiar to us in the Euthydemus,91 are introduced as something new;92 if, in fine, we compare the remarks on rhetoric in the Phaedrus with those in the Gorgias:93 and the judgment |132| on Isocrates with that of the Euthydemus.94 The opinion therefore seems justifiable that Plato up to the death of Socrates remained generally true to the Socratic manner of philosophy, and therefore in the writings of this period did not essentially advance beyond his teacher; but that in the years immediately |133| succeeding that event, he discovered in the doctrine of ideas and belief in the soul’s immortality the central point of his system, and thenceforward began, according to the announcement in the Phaedrus, to develop his convictions in methodical progression. That these convictions became in course of time more clearly defined and more distinctly apprehended — that the horizon of the philosopher gradually enlarged, and his method and form of expression to some extent altered — that his relation to the older schools was not throughout the same — that it was long before his political, and far longer before his cosmical theories were completed as to detail; all this we shall probably find, even if the traces of such a development should be less marked in his writings than it was in fact; but the essential stand-point and general outlines of his doctrine must have been certain to him from the date indicated by the Phaedrus, Gorgias, Meno, and Theaetetus.

It can hardly be doubted that the Symposium and Phaedo are later than the Phaedrus, and belong to a time when the philosophy of Plato, and also his artistic power, had reached full maturity;95 the Philebus, too, can scarcely be assigned to an earlier period. But the difficulty of determining the order of these dialogues with regard to one another, and the exact date of each, is so great that we cannot be surprised if the views of critics differ widely on these questions. Between those dialogues which definitely bring forward |134| the doctrine of ideas and the eternal life of the soul, and those from which it is absent, there must be a considerable interval; and if the former were for the most part not written till after the death of Socrates, we cannot venture to place either of the latter in the period closely succeeding that event.

We may reasonably suppose that the dialogues primarily concerned with the delineation of Socrates and the Socratic philosophy, as Plato then apprehended it, may have been written partly in Megara, partly after his return thence to Athens; that he then went to Egypt and Cyrene; that during this journey or immediately after it he formed the views which led him decidedly beyond the Socratic standpoint, — at any rate then first resolved to proclaim them by his master’s mouth; and thus this second epoch of his literary activity might commence about four or five years after Socrates death. But all this is mere conjecture, and cannot be substantiated.

Among the writings of this time the Phaedrus seems to be the earliest.96 The Gorgias and Meno may have followed; their subject and treatment allying them, more than any dialogues of this class, to the Protagoras.97 From the well-known anachronism in the Meno,98 it would appear that this work was published not much later than 495 B.C.99 The Theaetetus is connected with the |135| Meno by its subject-matter; the Meno (89 C sq. 96 D sqq.) reduces the question of the teachableness of virtue to the preliminary question, Is virtue knowledge? but at the same time recognises that virtuous conduct can also spring from right opinion; the Theaetetus enquires into the conception of knowledge, and its relation to right opinion. In point of date also, the Theaetetus seems to approximate to the Meno. For if it was not written at the time of the Corinthian war, we cannot place it much earlier than 368 B.C.100 It is, however, very unlikely that Plato should at so late a period have thought so elementary an enquiry to be necessary, for we find him in other dialogues101 treating the distinction of knowledge and opinion as a thing universally acknowledged, and of which it was sufficient merely to remind his readers. Yet if, on the other hand, we place the Theaetetus later than 368 B.C., the greater number of Plato’s most comprehensive and important works must be crowded into the two last decades of his life: this is in itself not probable, and it becomes still less so when we remember that in these twenty years occurred the two Sicilian journeys, and the alteration in the Platonic philosophy spoken of by Aristotle; which latter is so entirely untraceable in the writings of Plato that we are forced to assign it to a later date.102 It is therefore almost certain that the |136| Theaetetus must have been written a short time after the Meno; most likely between 392 and 390 B.C.103 The Sophist is connected with the Theaetetus in a manner which seems to show that Plato not only meant in the former to refer his readers expressly to the latter, but also to prepare the way, in the conclusion of the Theaetetus, for a further enquiry of a like nature.104 The Politicus, too, is immediately connected with the Sophist;105 and there is in both dialogues the announcement of a third discussion on the conception of a philosopher; a promise which Plato, for some reason unknown to us, never fulfilled. If this is not sufficient to prove that all these dialogues were composed in direct sequence, without the interruption of |137| other works, it is at any rate clear that Plato when he undertook the Sophist had already planned the Politicus, and he probably allowed himself no great delay in the execution of his design. We cannot be so certain about the Theaetetus; but it is unlikely that many years can have intervened between this dialogue and the Sophist; and thus there is some ground for believing that the Sophist and Politicus also were composed before the first Sicilian journey, or about that time.106 |138| The Parmenides refers to the Sophist,107 the Philebus to the Parmenides;108 and both the Philebus and the Politicus109 are presupposed by the Republic.110 These dialogues must therefore have succeeded one another in the above order.111 The precise date of each, and where the Euthydemus and Cratylus came in among them, cannot be ascertained; the Symposium was probably |139| written in 384 B.C.,112 but this fact gives us little help as to the chronology of the other works, since we cannot with certainty determine the place of the Symposium among the Platonic writings. Possibly Plato may have been prevented by his first Sicilian journey from completing the Trilogy of the Sophist,113 and after the dialectical labour of the Parmenides he may have set aside his intended enquiry concerning the ideal philosopher, and produced instead in the Symposium and the Phaedo those matchless descriptions which show us in the one the wise man enjoying his life, and in the other drawing near to death.114 The Philebus forms the most direct preparation for the Republic and the Timaeus, and therefore we may suppose that in order of time, too, it immediately preceded them. These two dialogues must certainly be assigned to Plato’s maturity:115 the only approximation we can |140| make to a more precise date is through the fact that the Critias has not only been handed down to us in an unfinished state, but was apparently never anything else than a fragment.116 This phenomenon argues some external hindrance which prevented the completion of the work, and we are thus led to think of |141| the two last Sicilian journeys and the troubles they entailed.117 Even independently of this, we could hardly place the Republic and the Timaeus later than the years in which those troubles occurred, or there would not have been time for Plato to write the Laws and to modify his system, as Aristotle tells us he did. Supposing the Republic to have been finished before the second Sicilian journey, therefore in 370-368 B.C., and the Critias to have been interrupted by the third journey in 361-2 B.C.,118 there would then be an interval sufficient for a comprehensive, thoughtful and artistic work like the former; for studies preparatory to the Timaeus, which despite its deficiencies in natural science, and the help derived from Philolaus and other predecessors, must doubtless have occupied a considerable time;119 and sufficient also to account for the striking difference in tone and style between the two dialogues — a difference not so entirely dependent on the diversity of their contents,120 as to make a further explanation, from the more advanced age of the author, unwelcome.121 Plato’s experiences in Syracuse |142| may have led him to abandon the further representation of the ideal state, begun in the Critias and designed for Hermocrates; and in its stead, after his own practical failure, to give account to himself and to the world, of the principles which must guide the philosopher in such enterprises; and also to enquire what means under existing circumstances are at his disposal. That this work is later than the Republic and belongs to Plato’s old age is beyond question;122 that he devoted much time to it is also evident, not only because of its compass, which is greater than any other of his works, but from the mass of legislative detail it contains. The Republic too may have occupied him for several years, and it is possible that the different parts may have appeared separately, but this theory has no trustworthy evidence to support it.123 |143| Nor is there any proof or likelihood that he recast the dialogue a second time.124 Modern critics have endeavoured to separate the first and last book from the rest of the work, but neither tradition nor valid internal evidence favours the supposition; while on the other hand the artistic and essential unity which appears throughout is an unanswerable argument to the contrary.125


1^ This holds good of the assertion (Diog. iii. 35, brought in by φασὶ), that Socrates bad heard the Lysis read, and Aristotle (ib. 37, acc. to Phavorinus) had heard the Phaedo (presumably at its first publication); of the supposition in Diog. iii. 38 (cf. ibid. 62), Olympiod. v. Plat. 3, that the Phaedrus was Plato’s first written treatise (Cicero, however, Orat. 13, 42 places it later); of the statement of Athenaeus (xi. 505 K), that Gorgias outlived the appearance of the; dialogue named alter him — of Gellius (N. A. xiv. 3, 3) that Xenophon composed his Cyropaedia in opposition to the first two books of the Republic, and of Plutarch (Solon ?2), that Plato’s death prevented the completion of the Critias. Cf. Ueberweg, Plat, Schr. 210 sq.

2^ E.g. Aristotle Politics ii. 6, beginn. and 1265, a. b. remarks that the Laws were composed later than the Republic, and that Plato wished to describe in them a state approaching nearer to actually existing states; but little by little it was brought round again to the ideal state of the Republic.

3^ It appears from the beginning of the Theaetetus that this dialogue is not earlier than the campaign against Corinth, in which Theaetetus took part; but what campaign this was we do not learn (vide p. 18, 31). The Meno (acc. to p. 90, A) and the Symposium (acc. to 93, B) cannot have been composed before B.C. 395 and 385 respectively (for it is very improbable that the passage of the Meno can refer, as Susemihl believes, Jahrb. f. Philol. lxxvii. 854, not to the well-known event mentioned in Xen. Hell. iii. 5, but to some incident which has remained unknown to us; we cannot suppose that this incident, which clearly excited so much attention, could have been twice repeated in the course of a few years; and, moreover, before the successful attack of Agesilaus, Persian politics had no occasion to make such sacrifices in order to gain the goodwill of a Theban party-leader; both dialogues, however, seem to be not far distant from these dates. As to the date of the Menexenus, if it is really Platonic, it must have been written after the Peace of Antalcidas, and cannot by any means be placed before that time the Parmenides, 126, B sq., presupposes that Plato’s half-brother Pyrilampes, and consequently Plato himself, were no longer very young when this dialogue was written. The Apology, Crito, and Phaedo, from what is implied in their contents, cannot come before the death of Socrates, nor the Euthyphro, Theaetetus, Meno (according to 94 E), Gorgias (521 C), and Politicus (299 B) before the accusation of Socrates; how much later they are (except in the case of the Meno) cannot be determined by any historical data contained in the dialogues themselves. As regards the Republic, even if there were no other grounds for the supposition, Bk. ix 577 A sq. makes it to a certain degree probable that this dialogue is earlier than Plato’s first Sicilian visit. It no more follows from Bk. i. 330 A that the first book at least was written before the execution of Ismnias. B.C. 382 (Ueberweg, plat. Schr. 221), than that it was written before the death of Perdiccas and Xerxes, Cf. on the foregoing points Ueberweg, loc. cit. 217-265.

4^ E.g. (besides the Sophist, Politicus, and Philebus), in the Republic, the working out of which goes far beyond the problem propounded Bk. ii. 367 E.

5^ Cf. Protagoras 361 A; Charmides 175 A sq.; Laches 199 E; Lysis 223 B; Hippias Minor 376 C; Meno, 100 B; Theaetetus 210 A sqq.; Parmenides 166 C.

6^ Plato i. 246, 269 sq.; 292, 515; ii. 278, 387 sq.; 500, 550 sq.

7^ It is of itself scarcely credible that a philosopher who has created such a perfect system as Plato should have composed a whole series of writings, criticising alien views, without at the same time wishing to do anything towards the establishment of his own; Grote’s assertion (i. 260, 292, ii. 563 sq.) that the affirmative and negative currents of his speculation are throughout independent of one another, each of them having its own channel, and that in his positive theories he pays as little regard as Socrates to difficulties and contradictions, which he had developed in the details of polemical discussions, is the natural consequence of his presuppositions, but it is in contradiction to all psychological probability. Consideration shows that many scruples thrown out in one dialogue receive in another the solution which Plato’s point of view admits; and if this does not always happen, if many objections which Plato maintains against others might also be maintained against himself, this is simply a phenomenon which occurs in the case of Aristotle and many others as well, because it is generally easier to criticise than to improve — to expose difficulties than to solve them; it does not, however, follow that Plato in his dialectical discussions aimed at no positive result.

8^ Phaedr. 278 E, about Isocrates in the beginning of the Theaetetus about Theaetetus.

9^ Part i. 214 sq We found it probable that in the Sophist he referred to the Megarians, Part i p. 248, 4, 252 sqq.; in the Theaetetus, Sophist, Euthydemus to Antisthenes, Part i. 303, 1 in the Philebus to Aristippus, p. 84, 94; in the Euthydemus to Isocrates. Many such allusions may occur in the Platonic writings without being remarked.

10^ E.g. in the Theaetetus, Sophist and Politicus, the Republic, Timaeus and Critias.

11^ In this way in all probability he refers in the Phaedo to the Meno (vide p. 83, 91), in the Philebus to the Parmenides (cf. 70, 56), in the Republic, vi. 505 B, to the Philebus x. 611 A sq., to the Phaedo (vide p. 532, 2nd edit.), vi. 50, 6 C, to the Meno (97 A, D sq.), in the Timaeus (51 B sq.), and also in the Symposium (202 A) to the Meno (97 sq.) and the Theaetetus 200 B sq.), in the Laws (v. 739 13 sq. also iv. 713 E; cf. Republic v. 473 C), to the Republic and (iv. 713 C sq.) to the Politicus (vide 70, 53).

12^ A question on which I cannot enter here.

13^ The latter is the view of Sochcr, p. 43 sq., and essentially of Ast, p. 38 sqq., not to mention the older scholars, such as Tennemann, Plat. Phil. i. 137, 264.

14^ We get a division according to form in Diog. iii. 49 sq., and Prolog. 17; the divisions are into dramatic, narrative, and mixed dialogues. Diog. himself, loc. cit., approves of a division according to matter; we have one like this given by Albinus, Isagoge in Plat. dial, c. 3, 6. Albinus divides the didactic from the zetetic dialogues (ὑφηγητικοὶ from ζητητικοὶ), and subdivides the didactic into theoretic and practical; the zetetic into gymnastic and agonistic. These again have further subdivisions; the theoretic dialogues into physical and logical, the practical dialogues into ethical and political, Under the head of gymnastic dialogues come the so-called maieutic and peirastic; under that of agonistic the endeictic and anatreptic writings. Diogenes makes the same primary division into didactic and zetetic dialogues, but proceeds to a triple subdivision, of the zetetic into physical, ethical (including political), and logical (according to the scheme of διδασκαλία, πρᾶξις, ἀπόδζιξις), and of the didactic into gymnastic (peirastic and maieutic), elenchtic, and agonistic (anatreptic). Aristophanes too in his determination of the trilogies, into which he divided a part of the Platonic dialogues (vide p. 51, 14), in correspondence with the connection which Plato himself has made between certain of them (Aristophanes first trilogy is that of the Republic, and this seems to have been the standard which occasioned his whole arrangement), seems to have been directed partly by the relation of the contents of the dialogues, partly by referring to the supposed time of publication. The former, on the other hand, is the only starting point for Thrasyllus arrangement. This grammarian (particulars about whom are given Part iii. a. 542, 3, 2nd edit., and in the authorities quoted there) divides the dialogues (acc. to Diog. iii. 56 sqq., Albin. Isag. 4) in one respect just as Diogenes, into physical, logical, ethical, political, maieutic, peirastic, endeictic, anatreptic. This division, and also the double titles of certain dialogues, taken from their contents (Φαίδων ἢ περὶ ψυχῆς and so forth), he either borrowed from some one else or was the first to introduce; but he further divides the whole of the Platonic writings into the nine following tetralogies: (1) Euthyphro, Apology, Crito, Phaedo; (2) Cratylus, Theaetetus, Sophist, Politicus; (3) Parmenides, Philebus, Symposium, Phrcdrus; (4) the two Alcibiades, Hipparchus, Anterastae, (5) Theages, Charmides, Laches, Lysis; (6) Euthydemus, Protagoras, Gorgias, Meno; (7) the two Hippiae, Ion, Menexenus; (8) Clitophon, Republic, Timaeus, Critias; (9) Minos, Laws, Epinomis, Letters. The standard in this combination is unmistakably the contents of the writings; only in the first tetralogy the philosophical aims are not so much considered as the reference to the fate of Socrates personally. The existence of a series of different arrangements of the Platonic writings is proved (as Nietzsche remarks, Beitr. z. Quellenkunde d. Diog. Laert., Basel, 1870, 13 sq.) by the fact that Diog. iii. 62 mentions no less than nine dialogues, which were placed by different writers at the beginning of their catalogues, among them the Republic and Euthyphro, with which Aristophanes and Thrasyllus had commenced their lists respectively.

15^ According to Diogenes, Thrasyllus maintained that Plato himself published the dialogues in tetralogies. The much-debated question as to the order in which they should be read is of itself, strictly speaking, a presumption that they were arranged on a definite plan. Cf. Diog. 62, Albin. 4 sqq.

16^ Against recent defenders of the Thrasyllic tetralogies, cf. Herm. de Thrasyllo, Ind. lect. Gott. 185-2/3 sq.

17^ E.g. Serranus, Petit, Sydenham, Eberhard, and Geddes. With regard to these, it will suffice to refer to Schleirmacher, Pl. W. 1, 1, 24 sq.; Ast, 49 sq.; Hermann, 562.

18^ Syst. d. plat. Phil. 1, 115 sqq. He and his followers up to Hermann are mentioned by Ueberweg, Unters. d. plat, Schr. 7-111.

19^ Loc. cit. p. 17 sqq.

20^ Phaedr. 274 B sqq. Cf. Protagoras, 329 A.

21^ Loc. cit. p. 44 sqq.

22^ Loc. cit. p. 27 sq.

23^ 38 sq.

24^ Schleiermacher reckons, in the first class of Plato’s writings, the Phaedrus, Protagoras, and Parmenides as chief works; the Lysis, Laches, Charmides, and Euthyphro as secondary works; the Apology and Crito as occasional pieces of essentially historical import, and other minor dialogues as probably spurious. In the second class he puts the Gorgias and Theaetetus, with the Meno as an appanage, and at a further interval the Euthydemus and Cratylus; then come the Sophist, Politicus, Symposium, Phaedo, and Philebus. Some few dialogues are passed over as spurious, or at least doubtful. His third class contains the Republic, Timaeus, and Critias; and the Laws, again as an appanage.

25^ Socratic, in which the poetic and dramatic element predominates; e.g. the Protagoras, Phaedrus, Gorgias, and Phaedo; dialectic or Megarian, in which the poetic element is in the background (Theaetetus, Sophist, Politicus, Parmenides, Cratylus); purely scientific, or Socratic-Platonic, in which the poetic and dialectic elements interpenetrate reciprocally (Philebus, Symposium, Republic, Timaeus, Critias). All the rest he regards as spurious. Cf. the criticisms of Brandis, 1, a. 163.

26^ Loc. cit. p. 41 sqq., c.

27^ De Platonis vita, ingenio et scriptis (Dialogi selecti, 1827, Tom. i. 2 A; Opera, 1833, Tom. i.) developed, and in some points modified, in the Introductions to single dialogues, and in numerous Dissertations.

28^ Socher assumes four periods in his writings. 1. Up to Socrates accusation and death: comprising the Theages, Laches, Hippias Minor, 1st Alcibiades, De Virtute, Meno, Cratylus, Euthyphro, Apologia, Crito, Phaedo. 2. Up to the establishment of the school in the Academy: comprising the Ion, Euthydemus, Hippias Major, Protagoras, Theaetetus, Gorgias, Philebus. 3. From that time to about the 55th or 60th year of Plato’s life, to which belong the Phaedrus, Menexenus, Symposium, Republic, and Timaeus. 4. The period of old age, comprising the Laws. Stallbaum makes three periods: one, up to the time just after Socrates death, including the Lysis, two Hippiae, Charmides, Laches. Euthydemus, Cratylus, 1st Alcibiades, Meno, Protagoras, Euthyphro, Ion, Apology, Crito, Gorgias. Of these he dates the Charmides about B.C. 405, and the Laches soon after (Plat. Opp. v. i. 1834, p. 86, vi. 2, 1836, p. 142); the Euthydemus 403 (loc. cit. vi. 1, 63 sqq.) 01. 94, 1; Cratylus, Olympiad 94, 2, (loc. cit. v. 2, 26); Alcibiades, at the time when Anytus began his proceedings against Socrates (loc. cit. vi. 1, 187); Mono, Olympiad 94 3 (loc. cit vi. 2, 20); Protagoras, Olympiad 94, 3 or 4 (Dial. Sel. 11, 2, 16; Opp. vi. 2, 142); Euthyphro, Olympiad 95, l = B.C. 399, at the beginning of the prosecution (loc. cit ); Ion same period (loc. cit. iv. 2, 289), and the remaining three, Olympiad 95, 1, soon after Socrates death (Dial. Sel. 11, 1, 24). His second period ranges between the first and second Sicilian journey, and comprises the Theaetetus, Sophist, Politicus, Parmenides, all four written between B.C. 399 and 388, and published immediately afterwards (cf. Republic pp. 28-45; previously, in his treatise De Arg. et Art. Theaetetus 12 sqq., and Parmenides 290 sq., Stallbaum bad dated them two years later); soon after these the Phaedrus, followed by the Symposium, a little later than B.C. 385 (Dial. Sel. iv. 1, xx. sqq.); then the Phaedo, Philebus, and Republic, Olympiads 99-100. (Dial. Sel. iii. 1, lxii. sq.). The third period is between the second Sicilian journey and Plato’s death, including the Laws and the Critias; the latter begun before the Laws, but finished after. (Cf. Opp. vii. 377.)

29^ Loc. cit.: cf. Especially 346 sq., 384 sq., 489 sqq.

30^ In the treatise De Plat. Systematis fundamento, 1808 (Wks. xii. 61 sqq.), but especially in the appendix (ibid. 88 sq.: cf. Ueberweg, loc. cit. 38 sq.)

31^ Hermann himself says, p. 384, ‘the return to his native city and the beginning of his career as teacher in the Academy.’ But in what follows he really assigns Plato’s acquaintance with Pythagoreanism, acquired on his travels, as the deciding motive in his philosophic development.

32^ Hermann accounts for this, p. 397, as follows: It was not till his return to his native city that the reminiscences of his youth could once more rise before his soul. This would certainly be a remarkable effect of external circumstances on a character like Plato’s; but scarcely more remarkable, perhaps, than the influence which Hermann ibid, suspects, of the separation a separation of a few miles from the metropolis of Greek classicality, in producing the crudities of the Megarian dialogues.

33^ Hermann gives a full discussion of the Lysis, as the type of the first class, which includes the Lesser Hippias, Ion, 1st Alcibiades, Charmides, Laches, and in completion the Protagoras and Euthydemus. The Apology, Crito, and Gorgias are a transition to the second class, and the Euthyphro, Meno, and Hippias Major comes still nearer to it; but its proper representatives are the Theaetetus, Sophist, Politicus, and Parmenides. The third class is headed by the Phaedrus, as an inaugural lecture at the opening of the Academy. Socher, 307 sq., and Stallbaum, Introd. Phaed. iv. 1, xx. sq., had already conceived this to be the position of the Phaedrus. The Menexenus is an appendage to this, and the Symposium, Phaedo, and Philebus are riper productions of the same period, which is completed by the Republic, Timaeus, and Critias. The Laws come last, suggested by the experiences of the latter Sicilian journeys.

34^ Ritter, Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 186, attaches only a secondary importance to the enquiry into the order of the Platonic writings as he impugns the existence of any important difference of doctrine in them, and does not allow a purely Socratic period in Plato’s literary activity to the extent to which its recognition is justified. He gives up all certainty of results beforehand, but is inclined to think — agreeing with Schleiermacher’s three literary periods — that the Phaedrus was written before the Protagoras (an inference from p. 275 sqq., compared with Protagoras 329, A., which does not seem decisive to me), and before and after these the Lesser Hippias, Lysis, Laches, Charmides; then the Apology, Crito, Euthyphro; next the Gorgias, Parmenides, Theaetetus, Sophist, Politicus; perhaps about the same time the Euthydemus, Meno, and Cratylus; later on, the Phaedo, Philebus, and Symposium; and last the Republic, Timaeus (Crit.) and Laws.

35^ Brandis, ii. 152 sqq, defends Schleiermacher’s view with much force and acuteness against the attacks of Hermann, without maintaining the formers arrangement in all its details. He would assign the Parmenides to the second literary period, and not place the Meno, Euthydemus, and Cratylus between the Theaetetus and Sophist. He sets the Phaedrus, however, in the front rank, with Schleiermacher, and next to it the Lysis, Protagoras, Charmides, Laches, Euthyphro; and assents generally to the leading ideas of Schleiermacher’s arrangement.

36^ Ribbing, in his ‘Genet. Darstellung der plat. Ideenlehre’ (Leipz. 1863), the second part of which is devoted to an examination into the genuineness and arrangement of the writings, puts forward the hypothesis that the scientific contents and the scientific form of the Platonic writings must be the standard for their arrangement, and that the order arrived at from this point of view must coincide with their proper chronological order. In accordance with this supposition he marks out, in agreement with Schleiermacher, three classes, among which he divides the particular dialogues in the following way: (1) Socratic Dialogues, i.e. such as particularly keep to the Socratic method of philosophizing, and are connected with the Platonic system propaedeutically: Phaedrus, Protagoras, Charmides (acc. to p. 131 sq. also Lysis), Laches, Euthyphro, Apology, Crito, and as a transition to the second class, Gorgias. (2) Dialectico-theoretic dialogues: Theaetetus, Meno, Euthydemus, Cratylus, Sophist, Politicus, Parmenides. (3) Synthetic and progressive dialogues: Symposium, Phaedo, Philebus, Republic, with which (p. 117 sq.) the Timaeus, together with the Critias and the doubtful Hermocrates, must be connected, though not intimately, on account of their exposition of peculiar views. The remaining writings, and amongst these the Laws, Ribbing considers spurious.

37^ Hist. of Phil., 3rd edit. p. 43 sq.

38^ Steinhart arranges the dialogues as follows: 1st, Purely Socratic: Ion, Hippias Major and Minor, 1st Alcibiades (before Alcibiades’ second banishment, B.C. 406), Lysis, Charmides (at the beginning of the rule of the Thirty, B.C. 404), Laches, Protagoras. Socratic, transitional to the doctrine of Ideas: Euthydemus, B.C. 402; Meno, 309; Euthyphro, Apology, Crito, same year; Gorgias, soon after the beginning of the sojourn at Megara; Cratylus, somewhat later. 2nd, Dialectical: Theaetetus, B.C. 393, composed perhaps at Cyrene; Parmenides, probably between the Egyptian and Sicilian journey; Sophist and Politicus, same time or perhaps during the Italian journey. 3rd, Works belonging to Plato’s maturity, after his travels in Italy and more exact acquaintance with Pythagorean philosophy: the Phaedrus, B.C. 388; Symposium, 385; Phaedo, Philebus, Republic, about 367; Timaeus, Laws. In his Life of Plato, however (301, 2, 232 sq.), the Meno is placed in the time after Socrates’ death; and the Philebus, with Ueberweg in Plato’s last period, between the Timaeus and the Laws.

39^ He agrees with Hermann in saying that at the beginning of his literary career Plato had not his whole system already mapped out. But he does not agree with Hermann’s further theory, viz., that Plato was unacquainted with earlier philosophies in Socrates’ lifetime, and that therefore the acquaintance shown with Eleatic and Pythagorean doctrines is a decisive criterion of the date of any work. His arrangement, accordingly, is slightly different from his predecessor’s: the first scries comprises Socratic or propaedeutic ethical dialogues, Hippias Minor, Lysis, Charmides, Laches, Protagoras, Meno (399 B.C.), Apology, Crito, Gorgias (soon after Socrates death), Euthyphro (rather later). The 2nd series, dialectic dialogues of indirect teaching: Euthydemus, Cratylus (both perhaps written at Megara), Theaetetus (after 394 and the visit to Gyrene), Phaedrus (389-8), Sophist, Politicus, Parmenides, Symposium (383-4), Phaedo. Third scries, constructive dialogues: Philebus, Republic (between 380 and 370), Timaeus, Critias, Laws.

40^ Enquiry into the Platonic writings, 89-111, 74 sq., 81.

41^ In the above-mentioned work (p. 100 sq. 293) with regard to the Protagoras, Lesser Hippias, Lysis, Charmides, and Laches, Ueberweg considers it probable that they were composed in Socrates lifetime, while the Apology and Crito (p. 246 sq.) were composed immediately after his death. To the same period he thinks the Gorgias must belong (p. 249); the Phaedrus on the contrary (252 sq., 101) to the years 377-5 B.C.; that the Symposium must have been written 385-4 (219 sq.), not long after the Phaedrus; the Euthydemus (258, 265), between the Phaedrus and the Phaedo, the Republic and the Timaeus, and still earlier before the Phaedo the Meno (281 sq.). The Theaetetus Ueberweg (227 sq.) places in the year 368, or thereabouts; the (Sophist, Politicus, and Philebus (p. 204 sq., 275, 171, 290 sq.), as also the Laws, in Plato’s last years (p. 221, 171). The Parmenides he considers spurious (supra 82, 86). These views are modified in the treatise ‘Ueber den Gegensatz zwischen Methodikern and Genetikern,’ Ztschr. f. Philos. N. F. cvii. 1870, p. 55 sq.: cf. Grundr. i. 121, 4th edit. (besides the statements about the Sophist, Politicus, and Meno, quoted pp. 82, 86; 83, 90). Ueberweg now thinks it likely that Plato’s writings as a whole belong to the period after the founding of the school in the Academy; and further, as a necessary consequence of this supposition, he deduces the sequence of all the writings without exception from a deliberate and systematic plan; and, finally, in harmony with this, he places the Protagoras and the kindred dialogues between the Symposium and the Republic.

42^ In his treatise: The Natural Arrangement of the Platonic Writings (cf. especially p. 25 sq.) Munk goes on the supposition that Plato wished to give in the main body of his writings in the Socratic cycle not so much an exposition of his own system, as a complete, detailed, and idealised picture of the life of the true philosopher, Socrates; and as that presupposes a plan in accordance with which he determined the external investiture of the dialogues, so the times of publication show the order in which Plato intended them to be read, and on the whole also that in which they were composed. In particular Munk makes the dialogues of the Socratic cycle follow one another thus, in three divisions: (1) Parmenides, Protagoras, Charmides, Laches, Gorgias, Ion, Hippias Major, Cratylus, Euthydemus, Symposium; (2) Phaedrus, Philebus, Republic, Timaeus, Critias; (3) Meno, Theaetetus, Sophist, Politicus, Euthyphro, Apology, Crito, Phaedo. Outside the cycle come the dialogues which were composed before Socrates death, or on special occasions, such as on the one hand Alcibiades I., Lysis, and Hippias II., on the other the Laws and the Menexenus.

43^ Schöne (on Plato’s Protagoras, 1862, p. 8 sq.) wishes to make this distinction the ground of an enquiry into the chronological order of Plato’s writings. He appeals to the passage in the Republic, iii. 392 C sq., where Plato banishes the drama from his state, and together with lyric poetry allows only narrative poetry, and that too under fixed and limited conditions. With him he combines as standards for judgment, the aesthetic and stylistic points of view, because the style of the particular writings is a more universal and trustworthy criterion of their genuineness and date than their subject matter, and the affinity of style will be very closely connected with the time of production. According to this point of view, as be remarks, the Platonic works will arrange themselves somewhat as follows: (1) Laws, Cratylus, Theaetetus, Sophist, Politicus, Philebus, Timaeus, Critias, Meno, Phaedrus: (2) Menexenus, Apology, Crito, Gorgias, Laches, Charmides, Protagoras, Symposium, Parmenides, Republic, Phaedo: the direct dialogues are Gorgias, Cratylus, Critias, Crito, Laches, Meno, Laws, Phaedrus, Philebus, Politicus, Sophist, Theaetetus, Timaeus; the indirect are Charmides, Parmenides, Phaedo, Protagoras, Republic, Symposium. The Apology is related to the direct, the Menexenus to the in direct dialogues. The writings not mentioned here Schöne apparently does not allow to be Plato’s. He says, however, in his preface that he is indebted to a lecture of Weisse for his fundamental conceptions as to the Platonic question, and also for many details in his treatise.

44^ Suckow, Form. d. Plat. Schrift. 508 sq., supposes with Schleiermacher ‘an arrangement and sequence of the Platonic dialogues according to deliberate and special aims.’ His arrangement, however, widely deviating from Schleiermacher is as follows: (1) Parmenides, Protagoras, Symposium, Phaedrus, (2) Republic and Timaeus; (3) Philebus, Theaetetus, Sophist, Apology, Phaedo. (The Politicus and the Laws he considers spurious: as regards the remaining dialogues he expresses no opinion.) Stein (Sieb. Bücher z. Gesch. d. Plat. i. 80 sq.) separates the Platonic dialogues into three groups: (1) introductory (Lysis, Phaedrus, Symposium); (2) such as work out the system in its particular elements, Ethics (Meno, Protagoras, Charmides, Laches, Euthyphro, Euthydemus), Science (Theaetetus), the theory of the Good (Gorgias and Philebus), the theory of Ideas (Parmenides, Sophist, and Politicus), Psychology (Phaedo); — (3) the dialogues which construct the State and the system of Nature (Republic, Timaeus Critias, Laws). He regards as supplementary the Apology, Crito Menexenus, the two Hippiae, Ion Alcibiades I., and Cratylus. The relation of this division to the time of the composition of the dialogues he has not yet explained. Rose, De Arist. libr. ord. 25 proposes the following arrangement: Apology, Crito, Alcibiades I, Euthyphro, Laches, Lysis Charmides, two Hippiae, Ion, Menexenus, Protagoras, Euthydemus, Gorgias, Meno, Theaetetus, Sophist, Cratylus, Parmenides, Politicus, Phaedrus, Symposium, Phaedo, Republic, Timaeus, Critias, Philebus, Laws, Epinomis, and as Plato’s last work, a letter composed of our 7th and 8th Platonic letters, written Olymp. 107, 1. Alcibiades II. and Theages, if they are genuine, precede the Protagoras.

45^ According to this the Meno, and probably also the Theaetetus, must be earlier than the Symposium and the Timaeus: vide supra 93, 3; 96, 11. According to Munk they were later.

46^ For instance in the Euthydemus, where he is ἤδη πρεσβύτερος (272 B), his philosophic method resembles that in the Protagoras, where he is a young man; and in the Euthyphro, a short time before his death, it resembles that in the Charmides (B.C. 432) and the Laches (420 B.C.): cf Grote, i. 191.

47^ Cf. e.g. the relation of the Theaetetus to the Parmenides, of the Republic to the Timaeus, of the Politicus, Gorgias, Meno, and Euthyphro to the Republic, of the Phaedrus to the Symposium. Munk perverts these relations in a very unsatisfactory way. Cf. also Susemihl’s thorough criticism of Munk’s work. Jahrb. fur Philol. lxxvii. 829 sq.

48^ Page 143 B. sq., a passage which can only be explained on the supposition that the Theaetetus was preceded by other narrated dialogues (as the Lysis, Charmides, and Protagoras).

49^ The Timaeus and the Laws to the Republic, the Philebus (supra, 70, 56) to the Parmenides.

50^ That the introduction of the Theaetetus is not genuine, that the Republic in an earlier recension had the form of a direct dialogue, that the Laws (in spite of the evidences and proofs mentioned supra, pp. 93, 2; 90, 11) were written before the Republic, but were only acknowledged after Plato’s death; Schöne, p. 6 sq.

51^ For the passage in the Publicize which refers only to dramatic, epic, and lyric poetry, allows no reasoning from analogy as to Plato’s procedure in writings which serve quite another aim, the philosophic-didactic. Here the question is not about the imitation of different characters, but about the exposition of philosophic views. Should, however, that inference be drawn, we fail to see what advantage the narrated dialogues had in this respect over the direct, inasmuch as the expressions of the Sophists and like persons, at the representation of whom offence might have been taken, in the one just as much as in the other were related in direct speech, consequently διὰ μιμήσεως and not ἁπλῆ διηγήσει (Republic 392 D). The most unworthy traits which Plato represents, such as the obstinacy and buffoonery of Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, are described by Socrates, just as much as the bluntness of Thrasymachus in Republic i. 336 B.

52^ Cf. supra, 93, 3.

53^ The remark in reference to this on p. 80 (as to the genuineness of the writings), finds an analogous application to the order of composition. Even in the case of poets and artists, the supposition that their more complete works are always their latest would lead to mistakes without end; and though in many of them of course the epochs of their development are shown by marked stylistic peculiarities, still it would be exceedingly difficult for us in most cases to determine these epochs precisely, and to assign to them their proper works, if, as in the case of Plato we had preserved to us only the works themselves, and not any trustworthy accounts about the time of their origin as well. The difficulty is still greater in dealing with a writer to whom the mere artistic form of his works is not an independent and separate object but only the means to other aims, which themselves limit the con ditions and direction of its application.

54^ Plato’s Schriften, 307. Likewise Stallbaum, Hermann, Steinhart, Susemihl (Genet. Entwick. i. 286; and further references), Ueberweg (Plat. Schr. 252 128).

55^ In the Protagoras also (347 E, 329 A), which most critics rightly place far earlier (387 B.C.), he contrasts the songs of poets, and books generally, with personal conference. Cf. too the Phaedrus.

56^ Ueberweg, Ztschr. f. Philos. lvii. 64.

57^ Cf. page 74.

58^ Pp. 95, 96.

59^ So Brandis, i. a. 160, defining more precisely Hermann’s objections (p. 351) to Schleiermacher’s view: ‘Plato’s creative genius early evolved from the Socratic doctrines the outlines of his future system; clear and precise from the first, their innate strength attained a a gradual and regular development.’

60^ Cf. p. 96.

61^ Plato, i. 186 sq.

62^ And at the same time in the defence of his friends against the rumours intimated 44 B.

63^ Part i. 161, 1.

64^ Cf. p. 84, 94.

65^ Socrates desire in the Euthyphro, 5 D, 6 D, to hear, not merely of some particular ἀλλ᾽ ἐκεῖνο αὐτὸ τὸ εἶδος ᾧ πάντα τὰ ὅσια ὅσιά ἐστι, and his explanation μιᾷ ἰδέᾳ τά τε ἀνόσια ἀνόσια εἶναι καὶ τὰ ὅσια ὅσια (cf. Ritter, ii. 208; Steinhart, ii. 195; Susemihl, i. 122), must not be made to prove too much. Socrates had, indeed, already insisted on the constancy of universal ideas: the separate existence of genera is not, however, hinted at in the Euthyphro. We cannot draw any inferences from the names εἶδος and ἰδέᾳ: whereas in Xenophon universal concepts are called γένη. Plato can express them in the Socratic acceptation by ἰδέᾳ or εἶδος, which after all means merely method or form. Plato in fact is standing on the threshold of the Socratic doctrine of ideas, but has not yet stepped beyond it. Still less can be inferred from the Lysis, 217 C sq.; and even if with Steinhart, i. 232 sq., we discover here the dawn of the doctrine of separate Ideas, we must still allow that the passage, as universally understood, does not pass out of the circle of Socratic tenets.

66^ E.g.: that the Platonic division of the soul is intimated in the Protagoras, 352 B; on which point I cannot agree with Ritter.

67^ Vide Part i. 149.

68^ As regards the division between philosophic and ordinary virtue, Meno, 93 D sq.

69^ Only the Apology and the Crito are to be excepted, which are not concerned with philosophical enquiries.

70^ The opposite view is maintained by Schöne, Plat. Prot. 88 sq. He wishes to make out that the advance is rather on the side of the Protagoras. He says that whereas the Gorgias identified the ἀγαθὸν and the ὠφέλιμον, which is, however, nothing else than the continued εὖ βιῶναι of the Protagoras it contents itself with a mere apparent difference between ἀγαθὸν and ἡδύ; the Protagoras on the other hand abolishes this appearance, and draws out in outspoken eudaemonism the consequence of the Socratic stand-point, However, supposing eudaemonism were really this consequence (we have examined this, Part i. 124 sq.), are we to believe that Plato recognised it as such? According to our subsequent knowledge of his Ethics, certainly not. And is it correct to say that the Gorgias by ὠφέλιμον, which is identified with the good, means merely the same as the εὖ ζῆν of the Protagoras (351 B), viz. ἡδέως βιῶναι continued to the end of life? Surely the discussion with Polus, 474 C sq., refutes this supposition; for although it shows that the right is, indeed, not more agreeable, but more profitable than the wrong, yet it seeks this profit exclusively in the health of the soul (47 1 A sqq.). Further on, 495 A, the position that ἡδύ and ἀγαθὸν are the same, and that all pleasure as such is good, and therefore the very supposition acted upon by Socrates in his whole argument Protag. 351 C, is fundamentally contested. I cannot believe, that after making Socrates refute a principle so decidedly in this passage, in the Republic, in the Philebus, and elsewhere, Plato should, in a later dialogue, make him repeat the same principle without the slightest modification; and the same must, I think, hold good in a still greater degree of the Philebus, which Schöne, following Weisse’s theory (supra p. 107, 43), likewise considers later than the Protagoras.

71^ The above holds good also if we suppose that the object of the Protagoras and the kindred dialogues was not so much the exposition of philosophic theories as the painting of the character of Socrates. For as in this case (leaving out of the question the Apology and the Crito) the question is still not about historical accuracy, but about an ideal picture of Socrates, we must ask why the same man, as regards his philosophical convictions, should be here depicted in so many respects differently from the representations of, e.g. the Symposium and Phaedo; and it would be very difficult to bring forward any sufficient reason for this, if Plato himself as a philosopher took just the same stand-point there as he does here. The truth is, the two sides, the depicting of the genuine philosopher and the exposition of a philosophic system, cannot be divided in Plato: he draws Socrates for us in such a way, that he at the same time leaves to him the development which to his mind was the Socratic, that is, the true philosophy.

72^ So Hermann, Steinhart, Susemihl; earlier also Ueberweg, supra, pp. 105, 106.

73^ Cf. Schöne, Pl. Protag. 72 Grote, Plato, i. 196 sq. (who brings forward my view with less authoritative grounds); with him, Ueberweg agrees in what follows, supra, p. 100, 41.

74^ The Hippias may be such an earlier literary experiment: cf. pp. 85, 80.

75^ It is probable that the Apology was published immediately after Socrates death, perhaps written down even before, inasmuch as a faithful report of the speech which Socrates delivered before the tribunal must have been the more easy to Plato, the fresher it was in his remembrance. And indeed it was then that he had the most pressing summons to set right the ideas of his fellow-citizens about his teacher by a narrative of the facts. The latter reason, however, would lead us to place the Crito not much later, the more so because here the interest intimated in the Crito itself is added, namely, to defend the friends of Socrates against the appearance of having done nothing at all lo save him. It might certainly appear that Plato could not have spoken of the preparations for Socrates escape, immediately after his death, without endangering the safety of the parties involved therein. But it is questionable whether, on the whole, the discovery of a plan which remained unaccomplished could have led to prosecutions, and whether the plan was not already known even before the appearance of the Crito; again, we do not know how lorg Crito out-lived Socrates, and whether Plato does not wish to defend the dead against unfavourable judgments: moreover, if Crito was no longer living, he had greater freedom in referring to him; yet besides Crito, he mentions by name none of the persons implicated (p. 45 B), such as the Thebans Simmias and Cebes, who without doubt had already returned home.

76^ A more precise arrangement is impossible from the fact that the particulars of this period of Plato’s life are not known. If his stay at Megara could have lasted longer, he might have composed the dialogues in question there. But it has been already remarked, p. 17 sq., that we have no right to make this supposition, and it is a wide departure from authenticated tradition to speak, as Hermann does, of a Megaric period and Megaric dialogues. Ueberweg (Zeitschr. f. Phil. lvii., 1870, p. 76 sq. supra, 100, 41) wishes to put back the Protagoras and the kindred dialogues to 387 B.C. and he believes that for this chronology he finds a strong external support in the fact that Isocrates (Busirus 5), six years after Socrates’ death, reproaches the rhetorician Polycrates: Ἀλκιβιάδην ἔδωκας αὐτῷ (Socr.) μαθητήν, ὃν ὑπ᾽ ἐκείνου μὲν οὐδεὶς ᾔσθετο παιδευόμενον, which, after the appearance of the Protagoras, could no longer have been said. But if this assertion is not mere imagination (and certainly in the Busiris, which pays little regard to historic truth, we may very well expect this from Isocrates), it cannot mean to deny the intercourse of Alcibiades with Socrates, but only to deny, what Xenophon also in Mem. i. 2, 12 sq. refutes, that opinions and conduct were motived by the Socratic teachings. That on the other hand he was connected with Socrates for a considerable length of time must also be universally known from Xenophon loc. cit. This result, however, is also obtained from the Protagoras. Alcibiades is not here represented as παιδευόμενος ὑπὸ Σωκράτους.

77^ Cf. p. 85.

78^ The fact, however, that the view of Plato’s literary activity developed above makes him begin, not with epoch-making works, which give a glimpse of all that is to follow, but with essays of smaller scientific pretensions (as Ribbing, Plato’s Ideenl. ii. 70 sq. objects), can hardly be construed to is prejudice. The same is the case to say nothing of our great poets) with Kant, Leibnitz, Schelling, and many others. Before Plato had discovered in the theory of Ideas the peculiar principle of his system, which could only have happened after long preparation, no was of necessity limited to the setting forth the Socratic philosophy in detail. That there was need of some practice in the literary form which was first used by him can cause us no surprise: seeing, however, that, so soon after the first experiments, he was able to produce such a work of art as the Protagoras, we have no reason to look in vain for traits of his high genius even in the essays of this period; on the other hand we can hardly imagine how, after the Phaedrus, he could have written a Lysis, a Laches, and a Charmides, and also in the Protagoras how he could so entirely have refrained from any reference to the theories which separate his stand-point from the Socratic.

79^ It has been already shown, p. 93, 3; 18, 31; pp. 83, 84; that the Meno cannot have been written before 395, nor the Theaetetus before 394 B.C.; and the Euthydemus gives evidence of the activity of Antisthenes in Athens, and his attacks upon Plato, as well as the attack of Isocrates on the Sophists (cf. on this point also p. 132, 94). Even apart from the obvious allusions, Gorg. 486 A, 508 C sq., 521 B sq., we must suppose the Gorgias to have beenwritten not before Socrates death: this, however, does not help us much.

80^ In the Euthydemus, 301 A, καλὰ πράγματα are ἕτερα αὐτοῦ γε τοῦ καλοῦ: πάρεστι μέντοι ἑκάστῳ αὐτῶν κάλλος τι. In these words I see not merely, with Steinhart, a close approximation to the doctrine of Ideas, but the actual enunciation of this doctrine. The αὐτοκαλὸν, the ideally fair, which, separate from individual things that are fair, gives them their fairness by its present indwelling, is actually the ἰδέᾳ of the καλὸν. This enunciation is immediately followed by an objection which Antisthenes appears to have used against the participation of Things in the Ideas: v. Part i. p. 255, 2. The words of the Theaetetus, 176 E, are even clearer: παραδειγμάτων, ὦ φίλε, ἐν τῷ ὄντι ἑστώτων — cf. 175 C — is a plain assertion of the doctrine, which is expressed in the Parmenides, 132 1), in almost the same words. The Here as the dwelling-place of evil, and the There to which we are told to flee in the Theaetetus, 176 A, is another decisive example of Plato’s idealism being already formed.

81^ These Pythagorean doctrines are seen clearly, not only in the Meno (v. following note), but in the Gorgias. 508 A of the latter (cf. vol. i. 380, 3) shows its author’s acquaintance with Pythagoreism, Gorgias, 493 A, D, Plato employs Philolaus’ comparison of the σῶμά to a σῆμα (v. vol. i. 388, 5), and indicates its source by the words κομψὸς ἀνήρ, ἴσως Σικελός τις ἢ Ἰταλικός. Σικελός κομψὸς ἀνήρ is the beginning of a well-known song of Timocreon’s, given in Bergk’s Poetae Lyrici Graeci, p. 941; and the addition of Ἰταλικός points to the Italian Philosophers, and in particular to Philolaus of Tarentum. The reference is not quite so clear, 523 A sqq. where the ordinary notions about the judges of the dead, the island of the blessed, and Hades, are given. But the belief in immortality appears unequivocally here, as in the Theaetetus, 177 A, and in 524 B is connected with the same thoughts as meet us afterwards in the Phaedo, 64 C, 80 C. The Gorgias 525 B sqq., distinguishes between curable and incurable sins, temporal and eternal punishments in the future world; just as later on the Republic, x. 615 D sq., does, following Pythagorean doctrines. So we cannot doubt that at the time he wrote the Gorgias, Plato’s views of a future state were in the main settled.

82^ Vide the well-known passage in the Meno, which will be noticed further in a subsequent place, 81 A sq. The reference in this to the Pythagorean doctrine of metempsychosis is perfectly plain, though Plato (with Philolaus, v. Pt. i. 327, 1) only appeals to Pindar and the Orphic tradition; the proof, as is well known, is in a tenet of the Pythagorean Mathematics the Pythagorean fundamental theory. And it seems equally clear to me that the doctrine of Reminiscence (ἀνάμνησις) really presupposes that of the Ideas. The objects of reminiscence can only he the universal concepts (ἀληθεία τῶν ὄντων) — the sensuous forms of which meet us in individual things not individual presentations which we (have experienced in our former lives: v. Meno, 86 A; cf. Phaedo, 199 E. Plato expresses himself as if the latter were his meaning, but this is merely the same mythical form of exposition which we find elsewhere; he states in the Phaedo, 172 E sqq., with unmistakable reference to the Meno, the particular way in which he wishes to be understood. I cannot, any more than Ribbing (Pl. Ideenl. i. 473 sq.) or Steger (Pl. Stud, i. 143), agree with Steinhart (loc. cit. 41, 96; iv. 85, 383, 416) and Susemihl (Genet. Entw. i. 85 sq.) in finding in the Meno an earlier and more immature form of the theory of Reminiscence than in the Phaedrus, nor with Schaarschmidt Samml. d. plat. Schr. 356 sq.), who avails himself of the passage in question as evidence for the spuriousness of the Meno. The Meno says, 81 C, that the soul has learnt every thing, inasmuch as it has seen καὶ τὰ ἐνθάδε καὶ τὰ ἐν Ἅιδου καὶ πάντα χρήματα. Similarly in the Republic and the Timaeus: in the former (x. 614 E), the souls after their wanderings through the world above and the world beneath are represented as narrating to one another what they have seen in both; in the latter (41 D), each of them before entering into human existence is placed on a planet, in the revolutions of which it con templates the universe; with the last description, the Phaedrus agrees on the whole, although in it the ideas stand for that which the souls see during their journey round the world. The Meno again reckons moral and mathematical truths amongst the things which the soul knows from its pre-existence, 81 C, 82 A sq. Further on (p. 85 E sq.) we are met by the fallacy: If the soul were in possession of knowledge, ἂν ᾖ χρόνον καὶ ὃν ἂν μὴ ᾖ ἄνθρωπος, it must always be in possession of knowledge. I will not undertake to defend the validity of this conclusion. I would rather ask where is the valid conclusion, by which preexistence is proved, and whether, for example, the method of proof in the Phaedo, 70 C sq., has in this respect any advantage over that of the Meno? In point of fact, our ‘fallacy’ is expressly mentioned in the Phaedo, 72 E, as a well-known Socratic evidence for the immortality of the soul.

83^ Plato himself gives his opinions on this connection in the Phaedo 70 D sq. If there is, he says a beautiful, a good, etc., and generally if there are ideas, the soul must have already been in existence before birth: if we deny the former position, we cannot grant the latter. He says this in reference to the ἀνάμνησις, which is indeed really a recollection of the ideas. The same, however, holds good of the later proofs for the immortality of the soul’s nature (Phaedo, 100 B sq.); as throughout he goes upon the relation in which the soul stands to the idea of life; and the conception of the soul in the Phaedrus as ἀρχὴ κινήσεως (245 C sq.), all along presupposes the separation of the eternal and essential from the external appearance, which, with Plato, is closely connected with the theory of the absolute; reality of the Ideas; the soul in its higher parts lives upon the intuition of the Ideas (247 D, 248 B).

84^ It will be shown later on how the Sophist and Parmenides establish and carry out this doctrine. For the Cratylus, cf. 439 C sq. (where the expression ὀνειράττειν can at most only mean that the doctrine is new to the readers, not that it has occurred to Plato only then for the first time) 386 D, 389 B, D, 390 E, 423 E; and the Politicus, 285 E sq., 269 D.

85^ Politicus 209 D sq., we find the opposition of the immutable divine existence and the mutable corporeal world, and, as a consequence, the assumption of periodical changes in mundane affairs. And in 272 D sq., 271 B sq., we get, in connection with this, the doctrine that each soul in each mundane period has to run through a fixed number of earthly bodies, unless previously transferred to a higher destiny. In 273 B, D, the doctrine of the Timaeus on matter is clearly anticipated.

86^ In the Cratylus, 400 B sq., we find Philolaus’ comparison of σῶμα and σῆμα, which occurred before in the Gorgias. We are further told that this life is a state of purification. In 405 D, we have the Pythagorean World Harmony; in 403 E, the Platonic doctrine of immortality, which is a reference to Pythagoreism. The Sophist, 252 B, gives us the Pythagorean opposition of the Limited and Unlimited, which meet us again in the Parmenides, 137 D, 143 D sq., 144 E, 158 B sqq., with the addition of a contrast between Odd and Even, One and Many; and, ibid. 143 D sq., the derivation of numbers is a reminiscence of the Pythagoreans. In the Politicus, we have the Pythagorean tenets of the Mean, 284 E sq., and the doctrine of the Unlimited, 273 D.

87^ So Hermann and Steinhart: vide supra, pp. 103, 104; 105, 38.

88^ As Susemihl: vide supra, Deuschle (The Platonic Politicus, p. 4) puts the Phaedrus rather earlier, between the Euthydemus and Cratylus.

89^ In Diogenes iii. 38, Olympiodorus 3 (vide p. 92, 1), it is declared to be Plato’s first written treatise, by reference to the μειρακιῶδες of its subject the dithyrambic character of the exposition. Schleiermacher, Pl. W. 1 a. 09 sq., gives a more thorough exposition of the youthful character recognisable in the whole texture and colour of the Phaedrus. He calls attention to the tendency to writing for display, and the exhibition of the author’s own superiority, which is discernible throughout; to the proud lavishness of material seen in the second and third refutation of the dialectic adversary, each of which outdoes its predecessor, only to result in the declaration that his whole literary production, and these speeches with it, are merely play. The Rhetors are discomfited with ostentations completeness; and at every pause the byplay breaks out in renewed luxuriance, or an uncalled-for solemnity is imparted to the tone. Such are some of the points noticed by Schleiermacher; and to these we may add that even the famous myth of the Phaedrus lacks the intuitive faculty which marks Platonic myths as a rule. The dithyrambic tone of the whole work has none of the repose about it with which, in other dialogues, Plato treats the most exalted themes; it is indeed so signally different from the matured lucidity of the Symposium, that we can scarcely suppose there are only a few years between them.

90^ Courage and Desire, which, according to the Timaeus, 42 A, 69 C sq. (cf. Politicus 309 C; Republic x. 611 B sqq.), compose the mortal soul which only comes into being at the union with the body, are here, 240 A sq., transferred to the preexistent state, and in 249 1) sq. we find the Love which is the main theme of the Phaedrus conceived only in general terms as the striving after the Ideal, awakened by the action of beauty. Not till we come to the Symposium do we find the addition, that Love is concerned with production in the sphere of beauty.

91^ P. 290 C; also Cratylus, 390 C; Sophist 253 D sq.; Politicus 285 D, 287 A.

92^ P. 265 C sqq. Dialectic is here described on its former logical side only; and I cannot agree with Steinhart (Pl. W. iii. 459) in regarding the representation given of it as more mature than that in the Sophist, where, loc. cit., the logical problem of Dialectic is based on the doctrine of the community of concepts. Stallbaum’s attempt (De Art. Dial, in Phaedro doctr. Lpz. 1853, p. 13) to reconcile the elementary description of Dialectic in the Phaedrus with the later enunciation does not satisfy me. He says that the Phaedrus only wants to represent Dialectic as the true art of Love. Even if this were so, it would not follow that it should be treated as something new, the very name of which has to be enquired. But there is no justification in the dialogue itself for thus narrowing down the scope of its second part.

93^ The Phaedrus, 260 E sqq., shows that Rhetoric is not an art at all, but only a τριβὴ ἄτεχνος, and we find the same in the Gorgias, 463 A sqq. But the former not only takes no exception to the general description of Rhetoric as having only persuasion for its object (however little this may have been Plato’s own view), but makes this description the basis of its argument. The latter contradicts this flatly, 458 E, 504 D sqq., and gives the Rhetor the higher aim of amending and teaching his audience; and because Rhetoric does not satisfy these requirements, it is, in the Theaetetus, 201 A, Politicus, 304 C, allowed only a subordinate value, compared with Philosophy; though the Phaedrus does not clearly divide the respective methods of the two. In face of these facts (which Ueberweg’s remarks, Plat. Schr. 294, fail to display in any other light) I cannot allow much importance either to the criticism of the Phaedrus on single Rhetors and their theories (Steinhart, iv. 43, nor to the circumstance which Hermann alone (Plat. 517) regards as decisive, viz. that the Phaedrus 270 A passes a judgment on Pericles so much more favourable than the Gorgias 515 C sq. 519 A. The former praises him as a speaker of genius and scientific culture; the latter blames him as a statesman. Both this praise and blame are quite compatible (as Krische has already remarked, Plat. Phaedrus 114 sq.) at any rate just as much as e.g. the praise of Homer and other poets, Symposium 209 D, is compatible with expressions such as Gorgias 502 B sq.; Republic ii. 377 C sq.; x. 598 D sq.; and even supposing it were otherwise, the question still remains whether the unfavourable judgment is the earlier or the later one: the judgment of the Gorgias is repeated in the Politicus, 303 B sq.; and as Plato always considered democracy to be bad, we cannot see how he ever could have arrived at a different view as regards the states man who most decidedly had paved the way for it.

94^ In the Euthydemus, without mentioning Isocrates, yet with distinct reference to him, his depreciatory judgments as regards the Philosophers for as he calls them the Eristics, the Sophists) are decidedly rebutted, and the middle position which he himself aimed at between a philosopher and a statesman is shown to be untenable. The Phaedrus, on the contrary, 278 E sq., represents Socrates as expressing a hope that Isocrates by virtue of the philosophic tendency of his mind will not merely leave all other orators far behind, but perhaps himself also turn to philosophy. Spengel (Isocrates u. Platon. Abh. d. Münchner Akad. philos.-philol. Kl. vii. 1855, p. 729-769; cf. especially 762 sq.) is certainly right in believing that the Phaedrus must have been written before the character of Isocrates had developed in that particular direction which Plato’s defence in the Euthydemus challenges before the hope of still winning him over to the side of philosophy had vanished and before he had published that series of attacks on the philosophers of his time (including Plato, though neither he nor any other is named) which we have in the speeches against the Sophists, Hel. 1-7, Panath. 26-32, π. ἀντιδόσ. 195, 258 sq. Philipp. 12. As Isocrates was born B.C. 436, supposing the Phaedrus to have been composed 38 B.C., he had already, at the time of its; composition, attained an age to which this condition clearly no longer applied. The remark Steinhart, Plat. Leben, 181 sq., intended to meet this conclusion, fails to carry conviction with it, as he finally supports his position with the mere assumption that neither was Plato in the Euthydemus thinking of Isocrates, nor Isocrates of Plato in the speech against the Sophists.

95^ Ast and Socher would place the Phaedo immediately after Socrates death (supra, 101, 25, 28): this supposition, however, has been sufficiently refuted supra.

96^ My own arguments in favour of this supposition are given p. 130 sq.: cf. 112 sq.

97^ The Euthydemus is omitted, for the reasons given on p. 84.

98^ Cf. p. 93, 3.

99^ On the one hand Ismenias is expressly called ὁ νῦν νεωστὶ εἰληφὼς τὰ Πολυκράτους χρήματα, which in this case can only be said from the stand-point of the author, not of Socrates; on the other hand, if the incident was still recent, and Plato’s indignation at it still fresh, it can easily be imagined how he came to allow this remarkable anachronism.

100^ Cf. p. 18, 31.

101^ Timaeus 51 D sq.; Republic v. 477 A, E; vii. 53:5 E; Symposium 202 A; also Parmenides 155 1), where, together with ἐπιττήμη, δόξα and αἴσθητις appear, plainly the two concepts, the separation of which from Knowledge is the subject of enquiry in the Theaetetus.

102^ The Laws form an exception: considering their general attitude we cannot expect them to touch upon the metaphysics of Plato’s later doctrines.

1033^ The point which Ueberweg, Plat. Schrift. 227 sqq. lays stress upon in support of his own and Munk’s supposition that the Theaetetus was written before 368, seems to me much too uncertain to prove anything. On the contrary, it harmonizes very well with the common view, that Euclid and Theodorus play a part in the Theaetetus; and with them, not long before the time assigned for the composition of the dialogue, Plato had had friendly intercourse. Cf. p. 18, 31.

104^ In the Theaetetus, after it has been shown that of the different definitions of Knowledge, ἐπιστήμη, as αἴσθησις, δόξα ἀληθής, δόξα ἀληθής μετὰ λόγου, no one is satisfactory (210 A); Socrates says in conclusion that he must now depart to the court; ἕωθεν δέ, ὦ Θεόδωρε, δεῦρο πάλιν ἀπαντῶμεν. In reference to this, the Sophist opens with the words of Theodorus: κατὰ τὴν χθὲς ὁμολογίαν, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἥκομεν. It is true, the concluding words of the Theaetetus would not certainly establish any design of a continuation in further dialogues (Bonitz, Plat. Stud. II., 41 in reference to the end of the Laches and Protagoras); but if Plato has connected them with such a continuation, we may in this case certainly suppose that he refers to them in it: and, again, the beginning of the Sophist would have been unintelligible to his readers if it was separated from the Theaetetus by a very great interval and by a series of other dialogues.

105^ Politicus, init.; Sophist, 216 C sq.

106^ Ueberweg, Plat. Schrift. 275 sq. following Munk’s example, places the Theaetetus Trilogy far later. His chief evidence lies in the observation that the movement in the Ideas maintained by the Sophist (vide on this point, supra, note 42) must belong to a later form of the doctrine than the view of their absolute immutability which is impugned therein. Still, however, the question remains whether the view attacked here is that known to us as Plato’s from writings like the Phaedo, the Timaeus, etc. (cf. p. 215 sq.), and whether merely the view of the Ideas as moving and animated, sinks into the background in the remaining dialogues besides the Sophist (that it is not quite wanting was shown loc. cit., because he had not yet found it out, or because it lay too far out of the dominant tendency of his thoughts, and the difficulty of bringing it into harmony with other more important designs was too great to allow him to follow it out further; or whether we have in the Sophist really a later form of the doctrine of Ideas, and not rather an attempt (subsequently abandoned; to include motion in the concept of the Ideas. The last supposition, besides the other reasons alleged for the priority of the Sophist to the Parmenides and of the Politicus to the Republic, at once falls to the ground when we consider that in the account of the theory of Ideas known to us from Aristotle the characteristic of motion is wanting throughout, and moreover this deficiency is expressly made an objection to the doctrine (cf. Part ii. b. 220, 2nd edit.); so that the Sophist cannot be considered as an exposition of the Ideas in their latest form, but merely as the transition to it. Ueberweg further (p. 290 sq.) thinks that he discerns in the Politicus, as well as in the Phaedo, anthropological views which must be later than those of the Timaeus. The incorrectness of this remark will be proved later on (in chapter viii.). Finally Schaarschmidt (Samml. d. plat. Schrift. 239 sq.) endeavours to point out in the same dialogue a whole series of imitations of the Laws, but I cannot enter upon the theory here in detail; I have, however, not found one out of all the passages which he quotes, which contradicts the supposition that the Politicus is one of Plato’s works which preceded the Laws.

107^ I have endeavoured to show the probability of this (in Plat. Stud. 186 sq. 192 sq.) by a comparison of Parmenides 128 E sq. with Sophist 253 D, 251 A; Parmenides 143 A B, 145 A with Sophist 244 B sq., 254 D sq.; Parmenides 133 C with Sophist 255 C.

108^ Supra, 70, 56.

109^ With regard to the latter I shall content myself with referring to Susemihl, Genet. Entw. ii. 303 sq. and chapter viii. of this volume, and with the remark that there seems to me to be no occasion for the conjecture that we have it not in its original shape, but in a second elaboration (Alberti, Jahrb. f. Philol. Suppl. N. F. 1, 166 sq.)

110^ When it is said, Republic vi. 505 B: ἀλλὰ μὴν καὶ τόδε γε οἶσθα, ὅτι τοῖς μὲν πολλοῖς ἡδονὴ δοκεῖ εἶναι τὸ ἀγαθόν, τοῖς δὲ κομψοτέροις φρόνησις, when the question which forms the subject of the Philebus is thus discussed here as if it were a well-known one, and tho two theories there criticised at length are dismissed with a few remarks, we cannot help seeing here in the Repub. a direct allusion to the Philebus, just as in the above-cited passages of the latter we find an allusion to the Parmenides; in the Phaedo, 72 E supra, p. 83, 91), to the Meno; in the Laws, v. 739 B sq. (cf. Plat. Stud. 16 sq.) to the Republic.

111^ Ueberweg, p. 204 sq., observes correctly that in the Sophist, and in a still higher degree in the Philebus (to which the present work refers later on, in chapter vi.), there are many points of agreement with the later form of the doctrine of Ideas as represented by Aristotle. But it does not follow that these dialogues are later than all those in which these points of agreement do not appear in the same way. As soon as the theory of Ideas arrived at a definite completion it must have also comprehended those views with which its later form was connected but Plato would only have had occasion to bring these views into prominence if the doctrine of Ideas as such had been propounded with the object of a dialectical discussion; while in expositions like the Republic and the Timaeus, the chief object of which is the application of the theory of Ideas to the world of morality and the world of nature, they would not be mentioned. Ueberweg, however, himself remarks of the Timaeus that the construction of the world-soul goes on the same lines as that in the Sophist and Philebus. Cf. also p. 137, 106.

112^ The mention (Symposium 193 A) of the Arcadian διοικισμός, which, according to Diodor. xv. 12, took place in the autumn of Olymp. 98, 4 (385 B.C.), is probably to be explained by supposing Plato to have been induced by the recent impression of that event to commit an anachronism tolerable only in the mouth of Aristophanes, and under the influence of his overflowing humour.

113^ Supra, p. 137.

114^ It will be shown later on (in chap. ix.) that we have no reason for considering, with Ueberweg, that the Phaedo was later than the Timaeus.

115^ The seventh Platonic letter vide p. 17, 30) does actually speak as if Plato had written the Republic before his first Sicilian journey; and in modern times there have been many scholars of note to support the assumption that Aristophanes in the Ecclesiazusae (Ol. 97, 1, B.C. 391) satirised the Platonic state, getting his materials either from the Republic or from orally delivered doctrines to the same effect, We may name Morgenstern, Spengel, Bergk, Meineke, Tchorzewski, and others; vide the references apud Schnitzer (Aristophanes Werke x. 1264 sq.); Susemihl, loc. cit. ii 296. But such a doubtful source as the seventh letter cannot be allowed much weight; and with regard to Aristophanes, I can only agree with Susemihl (to whom I content myself with referring, as he gives the views of his predecessors in full) that the Platonic Republic is not contemplated in the Ecclesiazusae. If the attack was aimed at some definite person, the poet, to make himself intelligible to the mass of his audience, would undoubtedly have marked out this person (in spite of the new laws against ridiculing people on the stage, which still did not restrain others from personalities against Plato, supra, p. 30, 82), as clearly as he had done in a hundred other cases. This is not done; and in verse 578 he says explicitly that these projects, which have been supposed to parody Plato, have never yet been set on foot. Nor do the contents of the play necessitate any reminiscence of Plato; broadly speaking, it is concerned, as the poet repeats and asserts beyond possibility of mistake, with the same moral and political circumstances as the Knights, Wasps, Lysistrata, and Thesmophoriazusae, in which there had been no alteration since Thrasybulus was restored. The community of women and goods is brought on the stage as a democratic extreme, not as the mere fancy of an aristocratic doctrinaire. The resemblance to Plato in some particular traits, e.g. verse 590 sq., 635 sq., in my opinion (which differs from Susemihl’s ii. 297) is not so special as to preclude the possibility of these traits having arisen quite independently from the supposition of such a community existing on Greek soil. Such particular instances must not be pressed too far, or we shall get at last a connection between Ecclesiazusae, 670, ἢν δ’ ἀποδύῃ γ’ αὐτὸς δώσει, and the corresponding Gospel precept. There is nothing to be said for the supposition (Ueberweg, Plat. Schr. 212 sq.) that Aristophanes had in his eye Plato’s oral teaching, for in this case we should all the more expect something to point out that Praxagora was indebted to Plato for her knowledge, or at least (if Aristophanes had suddenly become too cautious to venture what others had ventured and could venture without any danger) to the Philosophers: it is, moreover, very improbable that Plato had at that time so far developed his theory of the State as to require community of wives and the participation of the women in war and government. Besides, there is the fact that Ueberweg (loc. cit. 128) plainly makes Plato’s activity as a teacher begin 3-4 years, at earliest, after the representation of the Ecclesiazusae. Again, Republic v. 452 A, 456 C, throughout contains no allusions to any pleasantries which the comedians had already indulged in at the expense of his proposals.

116^ Supra, 49, 9.

117^ Susmihl, Genet. Entw. ii. 503, agrees with this.

118^ On the chronology cf. p. 32 sqq.

119^ Before writing the Republic, Plato could not have entered upon these studies, at least if at that time he had not yet conceived the plan of the Timaeus: and that this is really so is likely from the fact that the Republic contains no allusion to the persons who appear in the beginning of the Timaeus, nor to the dialogue carried on with them.

120^ To which alone Susemihl would here suppose a reference.

121^ The solemn dogmatic tone of the Timaeus is partly connected with purposed avoidance of a dialectical treatment, partly with the adoption of the Pythagorean Physics and the writings of Philolaus. Still, however, we cannot maintain that these reasons rendered a lucid exposition throughout impossible; and as, on the other hand, in spite of the difference of subject, similar traits are met with in the Laws, we may conjecture that they were in some degree at least owing to Plato’s advancing years and increasing inclination to Pythagorean speculations.

122^ We shall speak with greater detail on this point later on (in chap. xi.). Provisionally may be compared, besides the statements quoted pp. 138, 110: 93, 2, the assertion (in Diog. iii. 37, Suid. Φιλόσοφος. Προλεγόμενα τ. Πλάτ. Φιλοσ. c. 24) that Philippus of Opus published the Laws from a rough draft of Plato’s.

123^ Its only authority is in the assertion quoted p. 92, 1, in Gellius, that Xenophon composed the Cyropaedia in opposition to the Platonic State, lectis ex eo duobus fere libris qui primi in volgus exierant. But this anonymous statement not only lacks authenticity, but carries with it its own refutation. Neither at the end of the second book of the Republic nor in any other passage between the beginning of the first and the end of the third is there a single paragraph which could justify the supposition of a special publication of the part so far finished, and so much at least must have appeared to induce Xenophon to write the Cyropaedia; Gelling, however, openly presupposes our division of the books, already familiar to Thrasyllus (Diog. iii. 57). Compare on these questions Susemihl, Genet. Entw. ii. 88 sq., whose judgment is more correct than Ueberweg’s, Plat. Schr. p. 212.

124^ According to Diog. iii. 37 Euphorio and Pametius reported: πολλάκις ἐστραμμένην εὑρῆσθαι τὴν ἀρχὴν τῆς Πολιτείας. Dionys. De Comp. verb. p. 208 f. R; and Quintil. viii. 6, 64, says more precisely: the first four (or according to Dion the first eight) words of the Republic were written in many different arrangements, on a tablet found after Plato’s death. But from that we cannot with Dionysius, loc. cit., go so far as to conclude that Plato was engaged in polishing his writings up to the time of his death; we plainly have here to do rather with an experiment before publication to see how the opening words would look in different positions. Still less must we magnify these corrections of style into a separate revision of the whole work.

125^ It was, as is well known, Hermann, Plat. i. 537 sq., who put forward the assertion that the first book was originally a separate and dependent work of Plato’s first Socratic period, and was afterwards prepared as an introduction the Republic, and that the tenth book was only added after a longer period. Also that the 5th, 6th, and 7th books were inserted between the 4th and the 8th book by way of a supplement. However, he has not shown much care in substantiating this sweeping assertion. I will not here enter into particulars, because Hermann’s assumption has already been tested, with especial reference to the first book, by Steinhart, Pl. W. v. 67 sq., 675 sq., and Susemihl, Genet. Entw. ii. 05 sqq. I would only point out that the end (x. 608 C sq.) is already prepared for in the introduction (i. 330 D). The discussion on Justice, to which the whole of Ethics and Politics is subordinated, starts from the remark, that only the just man awaits the life in the world to come with tranquillity; and at the end it returns, after settling all the intermediate questions, to the starting point, to find its sublime conclusion in the contemplation of reward in the world to come. This framework at once proves that we have to deal with a single self-consistent work, which, with all its freedom in working out the details and additions during the process of elaboration, is still designed in accordance with a definite plan.

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1 Plato applies this method universally, seeking not merely the essential nature of moral activities, but the essential nature of the Real. He is thus inevitably directed towards the assumptions of his predecessors, which had all started from some true perception; but while these assumptions had related entirely and exclusively to one another, Plato’s scientific principles required that he should fuse them all into a higher and more comprehensive theory of the world. As therefore Plato’s knowledge of the earlier doctrines gave him the most decided impulse in the development of the Socratic teaching, it was conversely that development which alone enabled him to use, the combined achievements of the other philosophers for his own system. The Socratic conceptual philosophy was transplanted by him into the fruitful and well-tilled soil of the previous natural |150| philosophy, thence to appropriate to itself all kindred matter; and in thus permeating the older speculation with the spirit of Socrates, purifying and reforming it by dialectic, which was itself extended to metaphysical speculation, — in thus perfecting ethics by natural philosophy, and natural philosophy by ethics Plato has accomplished one of the greatest intellectual creations ever known. Philosophy could not indeed permanently remain in the form then given to it. Aristotle soon made very essential alterations in the theories of his master; the older Academy itself could not maintain them in their purity, and the later systems that thought to reproduce the system of Plato were self-deceived. But this is precisely Plato’s greatness, — that he was able to give the progress of Philosophy an impulse so powerful, so far transcending the limits of his own system, and to proclaim the deepest principle of all right speculation — the Idealism of thought — with such energy, such freshness of youthful enthusiasm, that to him, despite all his scientific deficiencies, belongs the honour of forever conferring philosophic consecration on those in whom that principle lives.

In Plato’s scientific method, also, we recognise the deepening, the purification and the progress of the Socratic philosophy. From the principle of conceptual knowledge arises, as its immediate consequence, that dialectic of which Socrates must be considered the author.2 But while Socrates contented himself with developing |151| the concept out of mere envisagement, Plato further demanded that conceptual science should be drawn out by methodical classification into a system; while Socrates, in forming concepts, starts from the contingencies of the given case, and never goes beyond the particular, Plato requires that thought shall rise, by continued analysis, from conditioned to unconditioned, from the phenomenon to the idea, from particular ideas to the highest and most universal. The Socratic dialectic only set itself to gain the art of right thinking for the immediate use of individuals to purify their crude presentations into concepts: the practice of dialectic was therefore at the same time education; intellectual and moral activity coincided, as much for the work of the philosopher in itself as for its effect on others. The Platonic dialectic, on the other hand, was subservient to the formation of a system: it has, therefore, as compared with the Socratic, larger outlines and a more fixed form. What in the one was a matter of personal discipline, in the other becomes conscious method reduced to general rules; whereas the former aimed at educating individuals by true concepts, the latter seeks out the nature and connection of concepts in themselves: it enquires not merely into moral problems and activities, but into the essential nature of the Real, proposing as its end a scientific representation of the universe. But Plato does not go so far in this direction as Aristotle; the technicalities of logic were not formed by him, as by his pupil, into an exact, minutely particularising theory; neither for the derivation nor for the systematic application of concepts does he summon to his aid such a mass of |152| experimental material. He cares far less for that equal spread of scientific knowledge into all departments which Aristotle desired, than for the contemplation of the idea as such. He regards the Empirical partly as a mere help to the attainment of the Idea — a ladder to be left behind if we would gain the heights of thought; partly as a type of the nature and inherent force of the ideas — a world of shadows, to which the Philosopher only temporarily descends, forthwith to return into the region of light and of pure being.3 Whereas, therefore, Socrates in the main confines himself to a search for concepts, the cognition of which is for him moral education; whereas Aristotle extends induction and demonstration, purely in the interests of science, over all the Actual, — the special peculiarity of Plato is that Amoral education, intellectual teaching, and, in science itself, the formation of concepts and their development, in spite of partial separation, are yet, with him, internally held together and united by their common aim, both leading to that contemplation of the idea, which is at the same time life in the idea.4 This position is not indeed invariable. We see, in the dialogues, Socratic induction at first decidedly predominating over the constructive element, then both intermingling, and, lastly, inductive preparation receding before systematic deduction; corresponding to which there is also a gradual change from the form of conversation to that of continued exposition. But the fundamental character of the method is never |153| effaced; and however deeply Plato may sometimes go into particulars, his ultimate design is only to exhibit with all possible clearness and directness the Idea shining through the phenomenon; to point out its reflection in the finite; to fill with its light not only the intellect, but the whole man.

This speciality in the philosophy of Plato explains the form which he selected for its communication. An artistic nature was indispensable for the production of such a philosophy; conversely, this philosophy would infallibly demand to be informed artistically. The phenomenon, placed in such direct relation to the idea, becomes a beautiful phenomenon; the perception of the idea in the phenomenon an aesthetic perception.5 Where science and life so completely interpenetrate one another, as with Plato, science can only impart itself in lively description; and as the communicating medium is ideal, this description will necessarily be poetical. At the same time, however, the exposition must be dialectical, if it is to correspond with the subject matter of conceptual philosophy. Plato satisfies both these requirements in the philosophic dialogue, by means of which he occupies a middle position between the personal converse of Socrates and the purely scientific continuous exposition of Aristotle.6 The Socratic conversation is here idealised, the contingency of its motives |154| and conduct is corrected by a stricter method — the defects of personalities are covered by artistic treatment. Yet the speciality of verbal intercourse, the reciprocal kindling of thought, is still retained. Philosophy is set forth, not merely as a doctrine, but as a living power, in the person of the true philosopher, and a moral and artistic effect is thus produced, of a kind that would have been impossible to bare scientific enquiry. Unbroken discourse is doubtless better suited to the latter; and Plato himself shows this, for in proportion as his scientific discussions gain in depth and scope, they lose in freedom of conversational movement. In the earlier works, this freedom not unfrequently disturbs the clearness of the logic, while in the dialectical dialogues of the middle order it is more and more subordinated to the logical development of thought. In the later writings, dialogue is indeed employed with the accustomed skill for introductory discussions or personal delineations;7 but so far as the exposition of the system is concerned it sinks into a mere form, and in the Timaeus is discarded at the very commencement.8 We need not, with Hermann,9 conclude from this that the form of dialogue had for Plato a merely external value; that, in fact, it was like some favourite and traditional fashion of dress |155| inherited from his predecessors, adopted in his first attempts as a Socratic pupil, and then adhered to out of piety and loyal attachment, in opposition to general usage. He certainly had an external motive for the choice of this form in the conversations of his master, and a pattern for its artistic treatment in dramatic poetry, especially such as dealt with reflections, morals, and manners, like that of Epicharmus,10 Sophron,11 and Euripides; but it cannot be proved12 that before his time dialogue was already much in vogue for philosophic exposition; and even if it could, we might still be sure that Plato, independent and creative as he was, and endowed with rare artistic feeling, would |156| never on such purely external grounds have held to a form all his life long, even when it was most irksome to him; that mere antiquity would not have determined him in its choice, nor custom in its persistent employment, unless there had been the closest internal connection between that form and his whole conception of philosophy. What this connection was Plato himself points out,13 when in the Phaedrus (275 D) he censures writing, as compared with speech, with its inability to defend itself, and its openness to all attacks and misconceptions; for if this censure holds good of written exposition in general, Plato must have been conscious that even his dialogues could not entirely escape it. Yet, on the other hand, his conviction of the advantages of speech presupposes the design of appropriating as far as possible those advantages to his writing, that image of the living and animated word;14 and if those advantages, in Plato’s opinion, depend upon the art of scientific dialogue,15 we may |157| reasonably derive from this his own application of that art. But the dialogues themselves manifest beyond possibility of mistake the design of compelling the reader, by their peculiar form, to the independent origination of thoughts. ‘Why should there so often be found in them, after the destruction of imaginary knowledge by the essentially Socratic method of proving ignorance, only isolated and apparently unconnected lines of enquiry? why should some of these be hidden by others? why should the argument at last resolve itself in apparent contradictions? unless Plato presupposes his reader to be capable of completing by his own active participation what is wanting in any given enquiry, of discovering the central point in that enquiry, and of subordinating all the rest to that one point — presupposes also that only such a reader will attain any conviction of having understood at all.’16 The above-named peculiarities are unfavourable to the systematic objective development of science. Since, therefore, Plato has employed them with the most consummate art and the most deliberate intention, he must have had a special reason for it. and this can only be that he considered objective exposition as generally insufficient, and sought instead for some other manner which should stimulate the reader to possess knowledge as a self-generated thing, in which objective instruction should be conditioned by previous |158| subjective culture. If this were the design of Plato, and he were at the same time convinced that the form of dialogue suited it better than continuous discourse, it naturally follows that he would select that form for his writings. Thought is to him a conversation of the soul with itself;17 philosophic communication, an engendering of truth in another; the logical element is therefore essentially dialogical. His writings, too, were probably in the first instance designed, not for the general public,18 but for his friends, to whom he himself would have imparted them: they were intended to remind those friends of the substance of the scientific conversations he was accustomed to carry on with them, or perhaps as a substitute for these.19 What therefore could be more natural than that he should adopt the form of their usual intercourse — that of the Socratic dialogue?20 Stricter science, in the sequel, wisely abandoned this form; but for Plato it was according to nature, and he stands alone and unapproached among all writers of philosophic dialogues, |159| before and after him, because in the case of no other writer did the conditions under which his dialogues were produced exist in similar measure — in his person that rare combination of intellectual and artistic gifts, in his philosophy that equal perfection and inner fusion of the theoretical and practical, of the philosophic Eros, and of dialectic.

The central point of the dialogues is Socrates. Not only does he appear in most of them as the leader in conversation, in the rest as an acute and important listener and occasional speaker, but his personality is pre-eminently the bond which artistically unites the several pieces; and some of the most powerful and most delightful of the dialogues are devoted quite as much to the painting of this personality as to the philosophic development of doctrine.21 This trait is primarily a tribute of gratitude and veneration offered by the disciple to his master. Plato is conscious that he owes to Socrates what is best in his spiritual life, and, under this conviction, gives back to him in his writings the noblest fruits of the borrowed seed as his own. That Socrates should be brought forward was necessary, too, on artistic grounds; for the unity of the Platonic doctrine, and the intimate connection of all the writings devoted to it, could in no way be more artistically represented than by their association with one and the same personality; and that the personality of Socrates was far more suitable than any other; that a nobler, pleasanter picture — a picture more capable of idealisation — |160| resulted from Plato’s placing his opinions in the mouth of Socrates, instead of enunciating them himself, needs no proof.

His procedure has doubtless another and a deeper reason, rooted in the foundations of his manner of thought. Philosophy, according to his acceptation, being not merely a set of doctrines but the perfecting of the whole spiritual life; and science, not a finished, communicable system, apart from the person that knows, but personal activity and mental development, — true philosophy could only be represented in the perfect philosopher, in the personality, words, and demeanour of Socrates.22 This view of philosophy is closely connected with another trait, by which Plato’s literary individuality is marked with special clearness. This is his employment of myths, which he loves to combine with philosophic enquiry, and especially to bring forward for the opening or conclusion of a discussion.23 |161| Here, however, another motive comes into play. On the one side, the mythus is the expression of the religious and poetical character of the Platonic philosophy.24 Plato makes use of the traditions of the popular faith and of the mysteries (in which beneath the veil of fable he divines a deeper meaning) for the artistic representation of his ideas; he also extends and multiplies them by original inventions, which rise from the transparent personification of philosophic conceptions, into lively epic description fully and exuberantly drawn out. But, on the other side, the mythus is not a mere garment, thrown over a thought that had previously existed in a purely scientific shape; in many cases it is for Plato a positive necessity, and his masterly use of it is a consequence of the fact, that he does not turn back upon the path of reflection to seek a picture for his thought, but that from the very outset, like a creative artist, he thinks in pictures: that the mythus does not reiterate that which the author has elsewhere dialectically expressed, but seizes by anticipation, as with a presentiment, that for which logical expression is still wanting. The Platonic myths, in short, almost always point to a gap in scientific knowledge: they are introduced where something has to be set forth, which the philosopher indeed acknowledges as true, but which he has no means of |162| establishing scientifically.25 This takes place chiefly in two cases: (1) when it is required to explain the origin of material things, the methodical derivation of which is impossible, according to the presuppositions of Plato’s system;26 and (2) when circumstances are to be described which have no analogy with our present experience, and which cannot be more exactly delineated. The first is found in the mythological cosmogony of the Timaeus;27 the second in the narrations concerning the future life and the primeval history of man; for the essential purport of these latter is also the determination of the state in which human society would find itself under altered, ideal conditions. When Plato in these cases adopts the mythical representation, he indirectly confesses that his ordinary style would be impossible to him. His myths are consequently not only a proof of his artistic ability, and an effect of the intimate relation still subsisting between his philosophy and his poetry but they also betray the boundaries of his methodic thought. However admirable in themselves, therefore, they are, in a scientific point of view, rather a sign of |163| Weakness than of strength: they indicate the point at which it becomes evident that as yet he cannot be wholly a philosopher, because he is still too much of a poet.28 |164|

Plato’s more comprehensive and methodical development of philosophy necessitates also a clearer distinction of its several branches with him than with earlier philosophers. Yet the dividing lines are not so sharply drawn in his writings as in those of Aristotle; nor is the precise determination of each branch quite certain.29 Modern writers have not unfrequently ascribed to Plato classifications which are manifestly alien to him;30 and the same is true of the previously |165| mentioned attempts31 of the old grammarians to arrange his works according to their contents. Though the external evidence in its favour is insufficient,32 there is far more to be said for the theory that he divided the whole subject matter of philosophy into three, parts: Dialectics (or Logic), Physics, and Ethics.33 For not only is this distribution presupposed by Aristotle34 and employed by Xenocrates,35 but the most important of the dialogues, in regard to their main subject, fall into three corresponding groups; though scarcely one dialogue is wholly contained in either. |166| The Timaeus, and, so far as Anthropology may be classed under Physics, the Phaedo also, is physical as to contents; the Republic, Politicus, Philebus, Gorgias, ethical: the Theaetetus, Sophist and Parmenides, dialectical. We may therefore venture to derive this division from Plato, though it is never brought forward in his writings,36 and at any rate cannot be proved in the case of his oral discourses. But, however applicable it may be, it does not exhaust the philosophic content of the dialogues. It has already been pointed out that in these the Socratic induction, — discussion for scientific preparation and moral education, — is combined with systematic development of doctrine, and at first even asserts itself to a far greater extent. What place, then, is to be assigned to such arguments? Where are we to arrange all those refutations of popular opinion and of customary virtue, of the Sophists and their Eudaemonistic theories — all those passages which treat of the conception and the method of knowledge, the oneness of virtue, and the relation of knowledge to moral action, of philosophic love and the stages of its development? It is usual to place one part of them under Dialectic, another under Ethics. But by this procedure, either the coherent exposition of these |167| sciences is interrupted by elementary discussions which Plato, even where ho introduces them, has left far behind — or the enquiries concerning true knowledge and right action, always in him so closely inter mingled, are forced widely apart. To renounce an articulate division of the exposition based on the contents, and to adhere only to the conjectural arrangement of the dialogues,37 seems unadvisable; for if we thus gain a true representation of the order in which Plato propounded his thoughts, we get none of their internal connection; and it is evident from the frequent discussion in widely distant dialogues of one and the same thought, that the two orders do not necessarily coincide. Unless we would follow Plato even in his repetitions — in the want of perfect systematic clearness inseparable from his manner of explanation — we must, in considering dialogues which are the stronghold of any particular doctrine, adduce all parallel instances from among the other dialogues. But if in this manner the order of the writings be once abandoned, we have no longer any reason for adhering to it at all; the problem will rather be to place ourselves at the inner source and centre of the Platonic system, and to rally round this nucleus the elements of that system, according to their internal relation in the mind of their author.38 On this subject Plato himself (Republic vi. 511 B) |168| gives us a pregnant hint. The highest division of the thinkable, he says, and the proper object of philosophy is this: What the reason as such attains by means of the dialectic faculty, using the hypotheses not as first principles, but merely as hypotheses, like steps and points of departure,39 in order to reach out from them to the unconditioned, the first principle of all things; and laying hold of this, and then of that which follows from it, it again descends to the last step; so that it nowhere makes use of any sensible object, but proceeds wholly from ideas, through ideas, to ideas. In this passage, and also in a noteworthy passage of Aristotle,40 a double way is clearly traced out for thought: the way from beneath, upward; and that from above, downward: the inductive ascent to the idea, effected by the cancelling of final hypotheses, and the systematic descent from the idea to the particular. Now we already know that these two ways correspond with the two elements united in the doctrine of Plato, and also distinguishable from each other in his literary exposition. We therefore pursue this indication, considering |169| in the following pages, first the groundwork, and then the systematic construction of the Platonic theory. This latter, again, may be divided into Dialectics, Physics, and Ethics.41


1^ Cf. Part i. page 93, 95 sqq.

2^ The dialectic of Zeno and the Sophists differs in being concerned with refutation only: Socrates uses dialectic as a real agent in defining the concept.

3^ Vide especially Republic vi. 511 A sq.; vii. 514 A sqq.

4^ Cf. my Plat. Stud. p. 23 sq.

5^ It is thus (says Plato himself in the Phaedrus, 250 B, D; Symposium 206 D) that the philosophic idea first dawns upon the consciousness.

6^ Aristotle chose the dialogue form only for popular writings, and apparently only in his Platonic period.

7^ E.g. in the Symposium, Phaedo, and first two books of the Republic.

8^ Cf., on Plato’s oral instruction, pp. 25-2, and Hermann, Plat. 352. Steinhart (Plat. W. vi. 44) explains the withdrawal of the dialogue form in the Timaeus and Critias by saying that their subject was not adapted for dialogic exposition. This does not really contradict what has been observed above. Even where dialogue is employed throughout, there are many parts open to the same objection.

9^ Loc. cit. 352, 354 sq. Ges. Abhdl. 285 sqq.

10^ Vide vol. i. page 362 sqq.

11^ Cf. page 8, note 11.

12^ Zeno, Sophron, and Alexamenus of Teos are named as predecessors of Plato. It is hardly probable, however, that Zeno used the dialogue form (vide vol. i. page 494); the Prolegomena, c. 5, end, name Parmenides with him: an addition no doubt due to the Platonic Parmenides. Of Sophron, whom Diogenes (iii. 18) says he copied, Aristotle remarks (Poetics, c. 1, 1447, b. 9): οὐδὲν γὰρ ἂν ἔχοιμεν ὀνομάσαι κοινὸν τοὺς Σώφρονος καὶ Ξενάρχου μίμους καὶ τοὺς Σωκρατικοὺς λόγους. These mimes may indeed have been written in prose (Arist. ap. Athen. xi. 505 C), but are no proof of the existence of philosophic dialogues. Finally, Alexamenus may have written Socratic conversations; but they must have been very unlike the Platonic dialogues, as Aristotle (ap. Athen. loc. cit.) classes them with Sophron’s mimes as prose tales, λόγοι καὶ μιμήσεις. cf. on the passage Suckow’s Form. d. Plat. Schr. p. 50 sq.). And this solitary instance of dialogue being used before Plato by a writer so little known and so unimportant cannot go far to prove that the dialogic treatment of philosophic material was established and popular. Indeed, it only became so through the Socratic school, in which the dialogue form was common enough. Vide Part i. pp. 198, 1; 204, 3; 205, 8; 206, 1; 207, 2; 242, 7; not to speak of the Memorabilia (with regard to the Diatribes of Aristippus, we do not know whether they were composed in dialogue form; and we are equally ignorant whether his twenty-five dialogues were genuine: v. p. 298). It is plain that the prevalence of dialogue in the Socratic school was due to its master. Perhaps, however, when Plato wrote his first pieces, there were not, as yet, many Socratic dialogues extant. Xen. Mem. iv. 3, 2, cannot be alleged to prove the opposite.

13^ Cf. Schleirmacher, Plat. W. i. a. 17 sqq.; Brandis, Gr.-röm. Phil. vi. a. 154, 158 sqq.

14^ Phaedrus, 276 A.

15^ Phaedrus, 276 E: πολὺ δ᾽ οἶμαι καλλίων σπουδὴ περὶ αὐτὰ γίγνεται, ὅταν τις τῇ διαλεκτικῇ τέχνῃ χρώμενος, λαβὼν ψυχὴν προσήκουσαν, φυτεύῃ τε καὶ σπείρῃ μετ᾽ ἐπιστήμης λόγους, etc. Dialectic is first defined by Plato (Phaedrus 266 B) only as the art of forming logical concepts and of making divisions. Its most suitable form was dialogue, as we may see from the explanation of διαλεκτικὴ as the art of scientific question and answer (Republic vii. 531 E, 534 B, D; Cratylus, 390 0), from the etymology given in Philebus 57 E; Republic vii. 532 A; vi. 511 B (against which the derivation ap. Xen. Mem. iv. 5, 12, proves nothing), and from the opposition between dialectic and rhetoric, in the Phaedrus, loc. cit. And this is expressly affirmed in the Protagoras, p. 328 E sqq., where people are censured for purely continuous discourse, because, like books, they cannot either answer or ask questions, and are therefore deficient in those advantages which the Phaedrus ascribes to oral instruction (Hermann’s infelicitous conjecture, οὐχ ὤσπρ βιβλία, completely misses the sense of the passage). The dialogue is accordingly recommended (348 C) as the best medium of instruction, and repeatedly insisted onthe retention of the dialogue form, as opposed to the Sophistic declamations: cf. 334 C sqq.

16^ A quotation from Brandis, loc. cit. 159 sqq., with which I fully agree.

17^ Sophist, 263 E: διάνοια μὲν καὶ λόγος ταὐτόν: πλὴν ὁ μὲν ἐντὸς τῆς ψυχῆς πρὸς αὑτὴν διάλογος ἄνευ φωνῆς γιγνόμενος τοῦτ᾽ αὐτὸ ἡμῖν ἐπωνομάσθη, διάνοια ... τὸ δέ γ᾽ ἀπ᾽ ἐκείνης ῥεῦμα διὰ τοῦ στόματος ἰὸν μετὰ φθόγγου κέκληται λόγος. Cf. Theatetus 189 E.

18^ There was as yet no book-selling in our sense of the term, although the first beginnings of it seem to come in that period. The usual method of making a work known was by means of recitation, which method Plato would have employed (vide p. 27, 50). The question arises whether Plato’s writings had attained a circulation extending beyond his own school before his death. After that event, Hermodorus is taxed with having made a trade of selling Plato’s writings; cf. the passages quoted in chapter xiv.

19^ Vide p. 112.

20^ From their original determination in this form we can partly explain the freedom with which Plato in his dialogues makes use of and characterises living personages of his acquaintance, e.g. his brothers in the Republic, and in the introduction to the Parmenides.

21^ Socrates is only omitted in the Laws, the last of Plato’s works; and the omission is but one of its peculiarities.

22^ Cf. the striking observations of Baur, in his ’Socrates and Christ,’ Tubingen Journal, 1837, 3, 97-121.

23^ I subjoin for convenience sake a list of all that properly belongs to this class: Protagoras, 320 sqq., on Prometheus and Epimetheus and the origin of political virtue, perhaps from some writing of Protagoras; v. vol. i. page 575 sq.; — Politicus, 269 C sqq., the changing world-periods: cf. the Laws iv. 713, 13 sq., for a short mythic picture of the Golden Age; — Timaeus 21 A sq., and Critias, the cosmic revolutions, the Atlantides, and Athenians; — Symposium, 189 D sq., Aristophanes’ tale of how the difference in sex arose; — Ibid. 203 A sq. the begetting of Eros, Republic, iii. 414 D sqq., triple classification of men; — Phaedrus, 246 A sqq.; Meno, 81 A sqq. Gorgias, 523 A sqq.; Phaedo, 110 B sqq.; Republic, x. 614 B sq., Timaeus, 41 A sqq., the Soul, its pre-existence, wanderings, its condition hereafter, its recollection of previous perceptions. The whole investiture of the Timaeus is also mythic — the Demiurgus, together with the subordinate gods, and a the history of the creation of the world; so is the Name-giver of the Cratylus. I shall go more at length into the import of these myths in their proper places. The short narratives ot the Cicadas and of Theuth have no esoteric reference to philosophic doctrines, Phaedrus 250 A sq. 274 C sq. The legend of Gyges, Rep. xi. 359 D sq., is used by Plato for the elucidation of a position, but is not introduced in his own name. Republic vii. 514 sqq. is an allegory, out of which a myth could be constructed, but the narrative form is wanting.

24^ On the religious signification of the Platonic myths, cf. Baur, loc. cit. 91 sqq.; Theol. Stud. u. Krit. 1837, 3, 552 sqq.

25^ Plato himself shows this in his eschatologic myths: Phaedo, 114 D; Gorgias 523 A, 527 A; and Timaeus, 29 D, 59 C, he speaks of the εἰκὼς μῦθος. Stmnpf. (Verh. d. Plat. Gott. z. idee d. Gut. 37) confounds the myth with allegory in asserting (though he retracts the assertion virtually, p. 100) that ’the myth excludes probability, because, if taken literally, it could only be false, while it could only be true if understood in its general sense.’ This cannot be got out of Plato’s words, and is in itself mistaken. The signification of a myth is simply whatever the author wishes to express by it: but must this be invariably true?

26^ As will be shown in its proper place.

27^ The Name-giver of the Cratylus and the φυτουργὸς τῆς κλίνης of Republic, x. 597 B sqq., belong to this class.

28^ Cf. Hegel’s remarks, History of Philosophy, ii. 103 sqq. A. Jahn (Dissertatio Platonica, Bern, 1839, p. 20 sqq.) has rather strengthened than refuted Hegel’s position, though his perverse philosophic assumptions have done much to obscure the simple understanding of the case; e.g. the arbitrary and unsatisfactory division of the myths (ibid. 31 sq.) into theological, psychological, cosmogonical, and physical — a division that reminds us of Ballast’s de Mundo, c. 4. Deuschle (Plat. Sprachphil. 38 sqq.; Ueber plat. Mythen, 3 sqq.) is much more satisfactory on the nature and import of Plato’s myths; and Susemihl (Genet. Entw. i. 228, 283 sq.) and Steinhart (Pl. W. vi. 73) in the main agree with him. He shows that the Platonic envisagement of the world, and the method of its development, was essentially ontological, not genetic; and that, therefore, Platonic philosophy was not concerned, even if it had been able, to explain the genesis of the Existent. The Become, however, forced itself into consideration; and some form had to be found at once capable of a speculative content, and demonstrating by its unphilosophic stamp the nothingness of the experiential substratum. This form was the mythus, ‘the value and charm of which’ (as Steinhart says, loc. cit.) ‘lie in that mysterious union of Being and Becoming, which, unattainable by cognition, may only be grasped by imagination and feeling;’ the essential import of which is ‘to give a pictorial envisagement, where pure thought can no longer help us, of the transition of the Idea into phenomena.’ We may, therefore, expect a mythical representation ‘wherever’ (Deuschle, Plat. M. 10) Plato’s doctrine involves a difficulty between true Being and a process of Becoming: the former belongs to intellectual investigation; the latter has to be brought before us by an envisagement which fills up its outlines. While acknowledging the ingenuity of these deductions, I am prevented by the following reasons from giving full adhesion to the theory. First, I cannot concede that Plato uses mythic representation only when he has to explain a process of Becoming. For (even to pass over Phaedrus 259 A sq., 274 C sq., and 247 C, 250 B; Republic x. 597 B, where the Ideas themselves are thus treated) the myths in the Symposium and Politicus (as will be shown further on) are not concerned with the explanation of anything Become; in the former the object is to give a description of Eros a definition through concepts which might just as well have been given ill purely dialectic form. But artistic considerations decided Plato to clothe his thought in the light and transparent envelopment of the mythus. In the Politicus, he merely follows out the position that the reduction of statecraft to the pastoral art is at most applicable only to the golden age and that, applied to our own times, it is wrong and overlooks the real distinction between the two. All the philosophic opinions contained in the myth of the Statesman might have been dispensed with as far as its immediate object is concerned. Again, the myth of Rep. iii. does not stand in the place of an explanation. On this account then I cannot concede to Deuschle (Plat. M. 12) that a myth like that of the Symposium is necessary on philosophic grounds, though I entirely acknowledge its artistic propriety. Generally speaking, we shall find it best not to press the philosophical construction too much, not to confine too strictly poetical invention. As regards the scientific worth of the Platonic myths, I do not think my judgment on them overthrown by the remark (Plat. Sprach. phil. 38) that this exposition was necessary to Plato from his point of view. This I have endeavoured to prove myself: and the assertion that the deficiencies of Plato’s scientific procedure come into prominence in this very need of a mythical exposition is no contradiction. Deuschle, plat, M. 4, virtually admits this. Fuller enquiries into the Platonic myths are given in Alb. Fischer De Mythis Plat. (Konigsb. 1865), 27 sq.; Ueberweg, Grnndr. i. 129. To these must now be added Volquardsen on the Platonic myths, Schlesw. 1871. Fischer’s classification of the myths into poetical and philosophical (loc. cit.) is inexact, because, if we understand by the first the purely poetical (for they are all poetical on the whole, else they would not be myths) this class must be limited to the Phaedr. 259 (of the Cicadas); Phaedrus 274 C sq. (about Theuth) is a didactic narrative, though without any philosophic content. Of the other instances placed by Fischer in this class, Republic ii. 359 D sq, is no myth at all, while Protagoras 230 C sqq., and Symposium 189 D sqq., express definite philosophic suppositions. The further division of the philosophic myths into ontological, methodic, cosmological, psychological, and political, is at once useless and inaccurate, inasmuch as not unfrequently several of these elements are treated in the same myth.

29^ Cf. on what follows Ritter, ii. 244 sqq.

30^ E.g. the division into a general and an applied part: (Marbach, Gesch. d. Phil. i. 215, who further subdivides the latter into Physics and Ethics; similarly Schleiermacher, Gesch. d. Phil. 98, speaks of a twofold direction of cognition to unity and totality, and in the latter to Physics and Ethics; to Plato himself is attributed merely the threefold division into Dialectics, Physics, and Ethics); a distinction which nowhere occurs. Nor again do we find a distinction between theoretical and practical philosophy; (Krug, Gesch. d. alt. Phil. 209; Buhle, Gesch. d. Phil. ii. 70 sq.; and Tennemann, Plat. Phil. i. 240 sqq., add as a third division Logic or Dialectics, by which, however, they only understand the theory of cognition). Van Heusde’s distinction of a philosophia pulcri, veri et justi is entirely modern and unplatonic.

31^ P. 97, 14.

32^ See preceding note. The eclectic Antiochus is not an original source in questions of the Platonic philosophy; and this is true without exception of the writers of the second and third century of the Christian era.

33^ Cic. Acad. i. 5, 19, who, acc. to c. 4, 14 (cf. Fin. v. 3, 8, 4, 9), follows Antiochus in this instance. Diog. iii. 56: to Physics Socrates added Ethics, and Plato Dialectics (more correctly Apul. Dogm. Plat. 3: he had Ethics and Dialectics from Socrates). Atticus ap. Euseb. pr. Ev. xi. 2, 2 sqq., Apul. loc. cit., both of whom, however, show their untrustworthiness, in ranging Theology and the doctrine of Ideas under Physics; so also Aristocl. apud Euseb. loc. cit. 3, G, and Alcinous Isag. c. 7, who mentions the three divisions of dialectical, theoretical, and practical philosophy. Sextus Math. vii. 16, after detailing the three parts of philosophy, says far more circumspectly: ὦν δυνάμει μὲν Πλάτων ἐστὶν ἀρχηγὸς … ῥητότατα δὲ οἱ περὶ τὸν Ξενοκράτη και του περιπατου ἔτι δὲ οἱ ἀπὸ της στοας ἔχονται τησδε της διαιρέσεως.

34^ Top. i. 14, 105, b. 19; cf. Anal. Post. i. 33, end.

35^ See note 33.

36^ By Dialectic Plato understands Philosophy generally, as will be shown more thoroughly later on. He acknowledges a strictly scientific procedure only where pure concepts are dealt with; and, therefore, the limitation of Dialectic to the doctrine of true existences is not opposed to his views. He does not know the names Physics and Ethics. Instead of the latter he would rather say Politics: cf. Politicus 303 E, 305 E, 259 B; and Euthydemus 291 C sqq.; Gorgias 464 B.

37^ A commencement may be found in Brandis, cf. loc. cit. p. 182, 192: afterwards, however, he returns to an arrangement according to matter, which in the main agrees with the ordinary one.

38^ I need not protest that in these remarks I do not disparage the worth of investigations into the sequence and respective relations of the Platonic dialogues, or accede to the sweeping sentence of Hegel against such enquiries (Gesch. d. Phil. xi. 150), superficially reiterated by Marbach (Gesch. d. Phil. i. 198). These investigations are in their proper place of the highest value, but, in an exposition of the Platonic system, merely literary points must he subordinated to questions of the philosophic connection.

39^ Properly, ‘onsets,’ ὁρμαί: but here the word seems to signify not so much the actual onset, as the starting point. Similarly Symposium 211 C: ὥσπερ ἐπαναβασμοῖς χρώμενον [τοῖς πολλοῖς καλοῖς].

40^ Eth. N. i. 2, 1095 a. 32: εὖ γὰρ καὶ ὁ Πλάτων ἠπόρει τοῦτο καὶ ἐζήτει, πότερον ἀπὸ τῶν ἀρχῶν ἢ ἐπὶ τὰς ἀρχάς ἐστιν ἡ ὁδός, ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ σταδίῳ ἀπὸ τῶν ἀθλοθετῶν ἐπὶ τὸ πέρας ἢ ἀνάπαλιν. This expression seems to refer to Plato’s procedure in oral instruction. The words ἠπόρει καὶ ἐζήτει are suitable neither to the passage in the Republic nor to the analogous (though not coincident) passage in the Phaedo, 101 D. Cf. the reference later on from Phaedrus 265 D sqq.

41^ It needs no proof to show that these three divisions could only have been arranged in the order given above, and the reverse order adopted by Freis, Gesch. d. Phil. i. § 58 sqq., requires as little refutation as his assertion (loc. cit. p. 288) that Plato, as a true Socratic, was occupied entirely with practical philosophy, and in his method did not go beyond the epagogic process.

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Chapter V. Propaedeutic Groundwork of Plato’s Doctrine

Speaking generally, Plato’s Propaedeutic consists in applying destructive criticism to the unphilosophical point of view, and demonstrating the necessity of true philosophy. In particular, three stages may be distinguished in this process. Ordinary consciousness forms the point of departure. By the dialectical analysis of the presuppositions, which were regarded by ordinary consciousness as primary and certain truths, we next arrive at the negative result of the Sophists.1 When this has been surmounted, and not till then, the philosophic point of view can be positively evolved.

Plato has refuted the position of ordinary consciousness both on its theoretical and on its practical side. In theory, ordinary consciousness may be generally defined as the Envisaging Consciousness (Vorstellendes Bewusstsein); or, more exactly to discriminate its elements, it apprehends truth partly as Sensuous Perception, and partly as Envisagement (Vorstellen) in the |171| narrower sense — Opinion, or what a man conceives (δόξα).2

In opposition to this, Plato shows in the Theaetetus that Knowledge (ἐπιστὴμη) is something different from Perception (sensation, αἴσθησις) and Right Opinion. Perception is not Knowledge, for (Theaetetus 151 E) Perception is only the manner in which things appear to us (φαντασία): if, therefore, Knowledge consisted in Perception, it would follow that for each man that must be true which appears to him true — the principle of the Sophists, the refutation of which we shall presently consider. Perception shows us the self-same object in the most contradictory manner: at one time great, at another small; now hard, now soft; now straight, now crooked: how then can it be regarded as equally true with thought, which abolishes these contradictions?3 But even Right Opinion is not Knowledge; inasmuch as Knowledge is to be sought in the activity of the soul as such, and not in yielding ourselves to external impressions[4] — Opinion is inadequate to the problem of Knowledge. If Right Opinion (this by way of indirect proof) were indeed Knowledge, the possibility of False Opinion would be inexplicable. For in the first place, False Opinion could relate neither to what is known nor to what is unknown: of the former we have Right Opinion, of the latter (if Knowledge and Opinion be really |172| identical) none at all.5 Further, if we suppose False Opinion to be an opinion corresponding to no object this would presuppose that the non-existent might be conceived; but that is impossible, since every notion is a notion of something that exists. If it be made to consist in the mistaking of one notion for another (ἀλλοδοξία), it is equally inconceivable that a man should mistake one thing that he knows, by virtue of his very knowledge, for some other thing that he knows, or even for something he does not know.6 That is to say, Knowledge and Right Opinion cannot be the same, for Right Opinion does not exclude the possibility of False, and Knowledge does exclude it;7 Opinion can be |173| true or false Knowledge only true: we cannot know falsely, but only know or not know.8 This diversity may also be proved by experience, for Knowledge is only produced by instruction; Right Opinion, on the contrary, not unfrequently, as by rhetoricians, through mere persuasion. Knowledge, therefore, cannot lie in the sphere of Opinion, but must belong to some specifically different activity.9 For the same reason, it cannot be defined10 as Right Opinion along with an explanation (λόγος); for whatever may be comprehended in the explanation, if this itself does not start from a cognition, but only from a right envisagement, its addition can never transmute Opinion into Knowledge.11 The |174| Meno tells12 us wherein they differ: Opinion lacks intelligent insight into the necessity of the thing: it is consequently, even if true, an uncertain and variable possession. Knowledge alone, by supplying this want, guarantees abiding cognition of truth. And summing up all previous discussions, the Timaeus (51 E) declares that Knowledge is implanted in us by instruction, Right Opinion by persuasion;13 the one is always accompanied by true reason, the other is without reason; the one is not to be moved by persuasion, the other may be moved; and lastly, every man may be said to participate in Right Opinion, but in Reason only the gods, and very few men. The Republic,14 in a more objective manner, proves the inferior worth of Opinion, in that Knowledge has pure Being for its subject matter, Opinion only something intermediate between Being an Non-Being: consequently Opinion must itself be intermediate between Knowledge and Ignorance. This exposition |175| to some extent presupposes the distinction between Knowledge and Opinion, and in some degree depends on limitations which belong to the further development of the system.

That which in the sphere of theory is the antithesis of Opinion and Knowledge, becomes in practice the antithesis of common and philosophic Virtue.15 Ordinary virtue is even formally insufficient: it is a mere matter of custom, without clear understanding; allowing itself to be guided by Opinion instead of Knowledge. It thus becomes a plurality of individual activities, which are bound together by no internal unity; nay, which even partially contradict one another. It is also deficient in content, partly in making evil as well as good its aim; partly in desiring the good, not for its own sake but on extraneous grounds. In all these relations Plato finds a higher conception of morality to be necessary.

Customary virtue arises from habit; it is action without intelligent insight into the causes of that action;16 it depends on Right Opinion, not on Knowledge:17 whence it evidently follows that the possession of such virtue is not combined with the capacity for imparting it to others; and that according to the usual view, or at any rate the usual practice, there are no teachers of |176| virtue18 for those who profess to be teachers (the Sophists) are, as we shall presently see, recognised as such neither by Plato, nor by the popular verdict.19 For the same reason this virtue has in itself no warranty of its own continuance; its origin and subsistence are dependent on chance and circumstances. All who are content with it, the famous statesmen of ancient Athens not excepted, are virtuous only by the Divine appointment: that is to say, they owe their virtue to accident;20 they stand on no essentially higher ground |177| than soothsayers and poets, and all those who produce what is true and beautiful from mere inspiration (μανία, |178| ἐνθουσιασμός).21 On this account Plato (Republic x. 619 D) makes the majority of those, who through unphilosophic virtue have gained the heavenly blessedness, fail on their re-entrance into this world; and in the Phaedo (82 A) he says, satirically, that they have the cheerful prospect of being placed in the course of their transmigrations among bees, wasps, ants, or some other |179| well-regulated race — perhaps even once again in the ranks of peaceful citizens. The only means of delivering virtue from this sphere of contingency is to ground it upon knowledge. The theoretic apprehension of morality alone contains the cause of moral practice: All desire the good; even when they desire evil, they do this only because they mistake evil for good. Consequently where there is true knowledge of that which is good and useful, there of necessity must be also moral will; for it is altogether inconceivable that anyone should knowingly and designedly strive after that which is hurtful to him. All sins arise from ignorance, all right action from cognition of the right;22 no one is voluntarily bad.23 While, therefore, want of knowledge is usually made an excuse for crimes, Plato is so little of that opinion, that he rather maintains with Socrates, that it is better to err designedly than undesignedly:24 that, for example, the involuntary lie or self-deception is much worse than conscious deception of others, and that every organ for the attainment of truth is wanting25 to the |180| man who only avoids the one, and not in a far greater degree the other. Hence, however, the farther consequence simultaneously follows — that the faults of the wise are not real faults, but only infringements of the ordinary code of morals, justifiable from a higher stand-point.26

With this want of self-consciousness on the part of conventional virtue is closely connected its view of morality as a plurality of particular activities, not as one and self-identical in all its various expressions. As against this, Plato, like Socrates, maintains (what naturally results from the reduction of virtue to knowledge) the unity of all virtue; and he establishes this position by the argument that virtues can be contradistinguished neither by means of the persons who possess them, nor yet by their own content: not by the former, for that which makes virtue to be virtue must be the same in all;27 and equally not by the latter, for the content of virtue consists only in knowledge of the good in science or intelligence.28 It will |181| hereafter be shown that Plato, notwithstanding, again assumes certain distinctions of virtues, without prejudice, however, to their essential unity; but he probably arrived at that determination (which is to be found in the Republic alone29) only in the later development of |182| his system. But if traditional virtue is imperfect because wanting in discernment of its true essential nature and the internal coherence of its parts, it is so no less with regard to its contents and motives. For the generally received principle of doing good to friends and evil to enemies, makes not only the doing of good but of evil to be virtuous;30 and the incentives to virtue are usually derived, not from itself, but from external ends of advantage or pleasure.31 True virtue, however, allows neither the one nor the other. He who is really virtuous will do evil to no one, for the good can only do good;32 and as little will such a man do good for the attainment by his virtue of ulterior advantages present or future. For to be valiant through fear, and temperate through intemperance, is to love virtue for the sake of vice. This is only a mimicry of true virtue, a slavish virtue in which there is nothing genuine or sound — a justice which has self-interest for its heart’s core, and is chiefly prevented by weakness from breaking out into open wrong.33 True |183| virtue, on the contrary, consists in a man’s freeing himself from all these motives, and regarding knowledge as the coin for which all else must be exchanged.34

What Plato, therefore, blames in the ordinary point of view is its general want of consciousness regarding its own action, and the contradiction in which it is consequently involved; it is satisfied with a truth containing error, and a virtue containing vice. This very contradiction the Sophists had pointed out, and employed for the bewildering of the popular conscience; but instead of proceeding to a more thorough establishment of knowledge and morality, they stopped short at this negative result, and only positivized the unconditional validity of subjective opinion and will. We have shown in the foregoing pages that Plato builds on quite another foundation, and pursues quite another end. We shall now turn to consider his procedure in the scientific refutation of the Sophists. We may again distinguish a theoretic and a practical side. The theoretic principle of the Sophists may be generally expressed in the proposition, ‘Man is the measure of all things.’ Theoretically regarded, the import of this proposition is: ‘that is true for every man which appears to him true;’ practically, ‘that is right for every |184| man which seems to him right.’ Both principles were thoroughly refuted by Plato.

As against the theoretic principle, he adduces35 first the experimental fact that judgments about the future at any rate have often no truth even for the person that judges; but in his opinion the decisive proof is that such a principle would destroy all possibility of knowledge. If all is truth that appears true to the individual, there can be no truth at all; for of every proposition, and of this among the rest, the contrary would be equally true: there can consequently be no distinction of knowledge and ignorance, wisdom and folly, virtue and vice; all must be in accordance with the doctrine of Heraclitus, in constant flux, so that all attributes, and equally their opposites,36 may be predicated of each particular. Above all, upon this hypothesis, that must remain unknown which forms the sole true subject matter of knowledge — the essence of things (the οὐσία) — for this is unattainable by the sensuous perception to which Protagoras restricts us; there could be nothing absolutely self-evident and fixed — nothing in itself beautiful, true, and good; therefore, also, no knowledge of truth. Truth and science can only be spoken of when they are sought, not in sensuous experience, but in the soul’s pure energizing in the sphere of true Being. Plato has expressed himself more fully with regard to the ethical code of the Sophists, for the combating of which the Cyrenaic doctrine of pleasure |185| (coupled by him with the foregoing) gave an opening. It is first criticised in the Gorgias37 in its association with the Rhetoric of the Sophists. On their side it is here maintained that the greatest happiness consists in the power of doing what one likes, and that this happiness is also the natural object of our actions; for natural right is only the right of the stronger. The Platonic Socrates shows, on the contrary, that to do what one likes (ἃ δοκεῖ τινι) is in itself no happiness, but only to do what one wills (ἃ βούλεται): this alone will really benefit the doer, for all will the good. But the good is not pleasure, as common opinion admits, when it discriminates between the beautiful and the pleasant, the shameful and the unpleasant. This is required by the nature of the case; for good and evil exclude one another — pleasure and pain mutually presuppose each other; pleasure and pain belong equally to the good and to the bad man — goodness and badness do not. So far, therefore, from pleasure being the highest good, and the striving after pleasure the universal right, it is, conversely, better to suffer wrong than to do it — to be cured of evil by punishment than to remain unpunished; for that only can be good which is just.38

The argument39 in the Philebus establishes the same conclusion more fully, but on that very account |186| belongs rather to the objective part of the system. The question here discussed is, Whether pleasure or knowledge be the highest good? the former the principle of the Sophists; the latter that of Socrates, and more definitely of the Megarians and Cynics. The answer imports that to perfect happiness both are requisite, but that knowledge is incomparably the higher and the more nearly related to the absolute good. The main line in the proof of this proposition is marked by the observation that pleasure belongs to the sphere of Becoming;40 the good, on the contrary, must be an absolute and essential existence: that all Becoming has Being for its end, but the good is itself the highest end; that pleasure is most nearly akin to the Unlimited (Material); knowledge to the Divine Reason as the ordering and forming cause. Plato further draws attention to the fact that pleasure and pain are not seldom based upon a mere optical delusion; that pleasure in most cases only occurs in conjunction with its contrary, pain:41 that the intensest sensations of pleasure arise from a state of bodily or mental disease. Discarding such, there remains as unmixed pleasure only the theoretic enjoyment of sensuous beauty, of |187| which, however, Plato elsewhere declares (Timaeus 47 A sqq.) that its true worth lies only in forming the indispensable groundwork of thought, and which, even in the Philebus, he decidedly places after knowledge. Lastly, in the Republic, we find an agreement with these discussions, and an evident reference to them in the remarks as to the doctrine of pleasure (vi. 505 C). Even the adherents of that doctrine must admit that there are bad pleasures, while at the same time they hold pleasure to be the good: this is nothing less than to declare good and evil to be the same thing. Similarly, in another passage42 — The philosopher only has true happiness, for his pleasure alone consists in being filled with something real; that is the sole pleasure which is unalloyed, and bound to no conditioning pain. The question whether justice is more profitable than injustice, is as absurd as would be the enquiry — is it better to be sick or well?43

The refutation (in the Republic44) of the Sophistic assertion that justice is merely the interest of the ruler, by the exclusion of paid service from the art of government, is only a special application of the distinction between relative and absolute good; for this is manifestly grounded on the universal presupposition that the end of moral activity must be in, and not outside, itself. And when, finally, the superiority of justice to injustice is proved45 from the argument that the just |188| only tries to get the better of the unjust, but the latter is at strife both with the just and unjust; and, therefore, that without justice no social polity and no common action would be possible — for not even a band of robbers could entirely do without this virtue — the practical principle of the Sophist is refuted in the same manner as the theoretical has already been refuted. As no knowledge is possible if instead of the concept, of the thing, the opinion of each individual holds good, so no reasonable and teleological action is possible if the individual will and advantage become law, instead of being subordinated to a law of universal validity.46 |189|

The fundamental defect, then, in the Sophistic Ethics appears to be this: that by its doctrine of pleasure it sets the transitory in place of the permanent, appearance in place of essence, ends which are relative, and therefore always changing into their opposites, in place of the one absolute, self-consistent end. The polemic against their theoretic principle had established exactly the same point. Their doctrine in general is therefore apprehended by Plato as the consummated perversion of the right view of the world, the systematic supplanting of Essence by show or appearance; of true knowledge by appearance-knowledge; of moral action by a debased utilitarianism, in bondage to finite ends; it is (according to the definition at the conclusion of the Sophist) the art of giving, by means of quibbling criticism, an appearance of knowledge where none is possessed, and when there is full consciousness of the deficiency: and so Rhetoric, the general application of Sophistic doctrine, is the art of producing glamour in whole masses of people, with the same show that Sophistic uses to glamour individuals.47 Or if we take both together, the art of the Sophists consists in the study and dexterous management of that Great Beast, the people,48 in all its moods and tempers. |190| The Sophist neither understands nor professes virtue:49 he is nothing better than a huckster and craftsman, who praises his wares indiscriminately, no matter how they may be made;50 and the Rhetorician, instead of being a leader of the people, degrades himself into their slave.51 In place of instructing the ignorant (which he, as possessing knowledge, ought to do), and improving the morally lost and neglected, he, being ignorant, uses ignorance to induce persuasion, and basely natters folly and greed.52 Sophistry and Rhetoric therefore, far from being true arts, are rather to be described as mere knacks (ἐμπειρίαι), or, still more accurately, as parts of the art of flattery, as spurious arts, which are just as truly caricatures of law-giving and the administration of justice as the arts of dress and cookery are caricatures of gymnastic and medicine.53 There is only a passing exception to this judgment when Plato in the Sophist (231 B sqq.) glances at the sifting and purgative efficacy of Sophistic, but he immediately retracts the observation, as doing it too much honour.

If such be a true account of what usually passes for Philosophy, and if the position of unphilosophic consciousness be equally inadequate, where, in contradistinction |189| to both, shall we seek for true Philosophy?

It has already been shown that Plato gives to the idea of Philosophy a far larger signification than that to which we are now accustomed: while we understand by it only a definite manner of thought, it is to him quite as essentially a concern of life; nay, this practical element is the first, the universal groundwork, without which he cannot conceive the theoretic element at all. Herein he closely resembles Socrates, whose philosophy entirely coincided with his personal character; and though Plato transcended this narrowness of the Socratic view in order to develop the idea into a system, he himself never apprehended Philosophy in so exclusively a theoretic light as Aristotle.54 If therefore we would understand his determinations of the essence and problem of Philosophy, we must begin with its derivation from practical necessity, with the description of the philosophic impulse. The theoretic form of Philosophy, the philosophic method, will occupy only the second place; thirdly, and arising from both, we get Plato’s collective view of Philosophy, and the philosophic education of men.

The general groundwork of Philosophy is the philosophic impulse. But as with Socrates this never took the purely theoretic form of an intellectual impulse, but simultaneously with the personal acquisition of knowledge aimed directly at the engendering of knowledge and virtue in others; so with Plato it is essentially related to the practical realisation of truth, and |192| is therefore more exactly defined as generative impulse or Eros. Philosophy, according to him, springs, like all higher life, from inspiration or enthusiasm (μανία).55 When the remembrance of the archetypes which the soul beheld in its heavenly existence awakens in it at sight of the earthly copies, it is possessed with a wondering delight, is beside itself and falls into an ecstasy;56 and herein, in the overpowering contrast of the Idea with the Phenomenon, lies the ultimate ground of that wonder which Plato calls the beginning of Philosophy:57 of that bewilderment, that burning pain which consumes every noble spirit when first the pre sentiment of a higher than itself arises in it,58 — of that singularity and maladroitness in worldly matters, which to the superficial gaze is the most striking trait in the philosopher.59 The reason that this ideal enthusiasm assumes the form of love is said in the Phaedrus (250 B, D) to be the special brightness |193| which distinguishes the visible copies of the beautiful above those of all ideas: therefore it is that they make the strongest impression on the mind. In the Symposium, this phenomenon is more precisely accounted for by the striving after immortality of mortal nature: having none of the divine unchangeableness, it feels the necessity of sustaining itself by continual self-propagation. This propagative impulse is love.60 Love therefore on the one side springs from the higher, divinely related nature of man,61 — it is the yearning to become like the immortal. But on the other, it is no more than a yearning, not yet possession; thus far it presupposes a want, and belongs only to the finite, not to the perfect divine Essence.62 Love is consequently a middle term between having and not having, — the transition from the one to the other; Eros is the son of Penia and Poros.63 The object of this yearning endeavour is, in general, the Good; or more exactly, the possession of the Good, — of happiness; for happiness is what all men desire. And therefore it aims at immortality, because with the desire for happiness is directly given the wish that the possession of the Good may be eternal.64 So Love is, generally speaking, the endeavour of the finite to expand itself to infinity, to fill itself with what is eternal and imperishable, to generate something enduring. The external condition of Love’s existence is the presence |194| of Beauty,65 for this alone by its harmonious form, corresponding to the desire in ourselves, awakes desire for the infinite.66 But Love is as various as Beauty, in kind and degree: he does not reveal himself from the beginning fully and perfectly; rising step by step from incompleteness to completeness, he is realised in a graduated series of different forms. The first is the love of beautiful shapes, of one, and then of all: a higher step is the love of beautiful souls, which operates |195| in moral words and efforts, in works of education, art, and legislation: a third is the love of beautiful sciences — the seeking out of beauty wherever it may be found; the highest of all is the love which rises up to the pure, shapeless, eternal and unchangeable beauty, unmixed with aught finite or material, — to the Idea, which brings forth true knowledge and true virtue, and which alone attains the goal of Eros – immortality.67 If this be the first adequate realisation of that for which Eros strives, then plainly he has been aiming at nothing else from the very beginning; all subordinate stages of his satisfaction were but imperfect and uncertain attempts to seize on the Idea in its copies.68 Eros therefore, in his true nature, is the philosophic impulse, the striving for the representation of absolute beauty, — the struggle to inform the Finite with the Idea by means of speculative knowledge and a |196| philosophic life; and all delight in any particular beauty is to be considered as a moment only, in the development of this impulse.69

The philosophic impulse is then, in the first place, a striving for the possession of truth: but if we further enquire as to the means of attaining this possession, Plato answers (somewhat unexpectedly for his ordinary enthusiastic admirers) The dialectic method.70 All other moral and spiritual training that whole course of preparation, which the Symposium has described to us, and the Republic will more exactly describe leads but to the threshold of philosophy: through her proper domain, Dialectic alone can guide us. That this must |197| be superadded to the philosophic impulse is first announced in the Phaedrus, the representation of Eros in the earlier part of that dialogue being followed by an enquiry into the art of discourse further on.71 And though at first the necessity of the latter method is established (261 C) on the wholly external ground that without it the end of eloquence, namely the guidance of souls, cannot be attained – yet in the course of the argument this external view is again discarded (266 B, 270 D). The Sophist, going more deeply into the matter (251 A, 253 E), shows that as some concepts allow, and others resist, mutual combination, there must necessarily be a science of Combination of Concepts, — that is, Dialectic. The Philebus declares this science (16 B sqq.) to be the highest gift of the gods and the true fire of Prometheus, without which no workmanlike treatment of any subject is possible. Concerning the essential nature of Dialectic, we must premise that its object is exclusively the Idea: it is the instrument by means of which the pure Idea is freed from all sensuous form and presupposition, and developed.72 It is therefore peculiar to the |198| philosopher;73 for he alone can recognise Being in itself the essence and concept of things,74 and by this knowledge can regulate all other arts and sciences.75 Dialectic has a double task — συναγωγὴ and διαίρεσις the Formation of concepts and their Classification.76 The first reduces the Many of experience to one Genus, the second divides this Genus organically into its Species, without breaking any of its natural articulations, or overlooking one division that really exists. He who is skilled to recognise the One concept pervading the Many and Divided — and, conversely, to carry out the one concept methodically through the whole graduated scale of its sub-kinds |199| down to particulars, and, as a consequence of this procedure, to establish the mutual relations of concepts, and the possibility or impossibility of their combination he is the true workman in Dialectic.77

Of these two elements of Dialectic, one, the Formation of concepts, had already been apprehended by Socrates, whose philosophic merit is essentially based on this fact. Plato throughout presupposes this Socratic induction, and his own method with regard to it is generally distinguished from that of his master only by its more technical and conscious use. In the Concept, the What of things is to be determined; not this or that quality only in them must be given, but |200| the marks that distinguish them from all others;78 not the contingent in them, but the essential;79 for with that only is" Science concerned.80 But the essence of things consists solely in that wherein all belonging to the same class agree, in the common attribute, The determination of the concept is therefore something quite other than the enumeration of the multiplicity comprehended within that concept: it has to do with that which is equally present in all particulars and individuals; with the Universal, without which no particular can be understood, because it is contained in each particular and is presupposed by it.81 Briefly, then, the concept must determine the Essence of |201| things, by establishing the distinguishing characteristics of classes. For this purpose Plato, following his muster, starts as much as possible from the known and universally acknowledged. He will not only express the truth, but will do so in such a manner that others may be convinced by it:82 and he therefore requires that the progress of knowledge be brought about through examples, so that we may understand the unknown from the known, and learn to recognise in the unknown, characteristics elsewhere familiar to us.83 This procedure is very usual with Plato.4 It brings with it a clanger already perceived by Socrates. When we start from individual observations and examples, and above all from individual experiences, we must take care lest our concepts represent only particular sides of the objects in question, and not the whole of their essence. Socrates tried to escape this danger by means of that dialectical comparison of the different cases, in which we have learned to recognise one of the most important peculiarities of his method. The skill of Plato in this dialectic is also well known, and even |202| his earliest works show him to have been in this respect the apt disciple of Socrates. But as he has given to the Socratic philosophy in general a more scientific form, so in this particular he requires a stricter procedure. The truth of the conceptual determination is not merely to be tested by individual instances which are always selected with a certain arbitrariness, but each assumption is to be developed in all its positive and negative consequences to prove its admissibility and necessity: all the results that may arise, on the one hand from itself, and on the other from the opposite hypothesis, are to be drawn out, and in this way we are to ascertain whether it is compatible with, and therefore required by, that which is elsewhere acknowledged as truth. This is that hypothetic discussion of the concept which Plato so emphatically recommends as dialectic training, on the ground that thus alone can the correctness of presuppositions be perfectly tested.85 |203| The method seems to have been motived not only by the Socratic teaching, but also by the Eleatic dialectic as worked out by Zeno;86 Zeno, however, only aims at refuting the ordinary notions by inference; Plato, as a true Socratic, has for his ultimate end a positive result, an exhaustive definition of the concept. And as he insists that with each assumption its opposite also shall be thoroughly sifted, in the manner described — his method where fully carried out, as in the Parmenides, takes the form of an antinomic exposition, the ultimate aim of which is, by refuting one-sided presuppositions, to establish those that are true. But however great may be the value set by Plato upon this hypothetic development of the concept, it is still, as he himself says, only a preparation, or, more exactly, a moment in the dialectic method — a part of that which Aristotle |204| calls induction: for its aim is to enquire into the truth of concepts, and to make possible their right definition. If the presuppositions of unphilosophic consciousness are subjected to this treatment, they are refuted and annulled in the Idea; if it is applied to philosophic propositions, as in the Parmenides, these receive their dialectical establishment and more exact determination: but if by this process we have arrived at the Idea as the Unconditioned the indirect development of thought must give place to the direct, the analytic to the synthetic.87

We have remarked before that the speciality of the Synthetic method lies, according to Plato, in Classification or Division. As the Concept expresses the common attribute wherein a number of things agree, Division expresses the differences by which a class is |205| separated into its kinds.88 He, therefore, who would make a right division must not introduce arbitrary distinctions into things, but seek out those already existing in them – the natural articulations of the conceptual group.89 For this purpose two things are to be observed: that the division is to be according to real differences of Kind, not merely Quantitative disparity; and that the intermediate links by which the lower kinds are connected with the higher are not to be passed over.90 The former is necessary in order to obtain a logical, and not a merely external division;91 the latter, that we may judge rightly the relation of concepts, and learn to combine the unity of the class with the multiplicity |206| of that which is comprehended under it.92 The first is conditioned by the second; for only by a regular progression from universal to particular can we be sure that the kinds are rightly determined, and that merely collective concepts are not confounded with concepts of kind.93 The problem is to survey logically, by means of a complete and methodical |207| enumeration of its divisions and subdivisions, the whole area included under a class; to follow all the ramifications of the concepts to the point where their regular co-articulated series ends and the indefinite multiplicity of the phenomenon begins. By this method it is shown whether concepts are identical or diverse, in what respect they fall or do not fall under the same higher idea; how far they are consequently allied or opposed, capable of combination or the reverse, in a word, their reciprocal relation is established, and we are enabled by this knowledge to make a methodical descent from the highest universal to the particular, to the very confines of the ideal world.94 But while insisting on the continuity of the progression and the completeness of all intermediate links, Plato as constantly urges that we should start from the simplest divisions. What he prefers, therefore, is bisection, which becomes quadrisection, when two grounds of division cross:95 but where such a classification is impracticable, some other must be chosen which approaches dichotomy as nearly as the given case will allow.96 |208|

A completed logical system is not to be found in Plato; and neither by inferences from his own method, nor by combination of single incidental expressions, are we justified in supplying this want. The whole gist of the question is, How far did he enunciate the laws of thought (which, in common with every reasoning man, he must certainly have followed) — in the shape of logical rules, and systematise those individual observations concerning the forms and conditions of our thought which occasionally obtruded themselves upon him — into a distinct theory? This he has only done in the two points that have just been considered. For the rest, his writings do indeed contain hints and germs of the later logic, but no comprehensive combination and development of these. Thus he sometimes says that all our convictions must agree;97 that contradictory determinations cannot at the same time belong to one and the same thing:98 that it is a proof of error, if concerning the same thing the opposite in the same reference is affirmed.99 He also declares that knowledge |209| can only exist when we are conscious of the reasons for our assumptions.100 But though we may here recognise the two laws of modern logic — the Law of Contradictories and that of the Sufficient Reason,101 Plato nowhere says that all rules of thought may be reduced to these two propositions. He has indeed enunciated them, but he has not yet placed them as the most universal principles at the apex of the science of thought. Further, when he investigates the nature of concepts, the combination in them of the One and the Many, the possibility of their being connected, their mutual compatibility and incompatibility, the relations of Genus and Species, — in all this he considers concepts, not as the product of our thought, but as something actually and absolutely existing independently of it: Logic is still veiled in Metaphysics. These enquiries, and others I connected with them, into the conditions of truth and error, we must for that reason relegate to another place. In the remark that all discourse consists in the union of the concept of a predicate with that of a subject;102 and that thought, as discourse without sound, is nothing else than affirming or denying,103 we can trace |210| only the first, though very important, beginnings of the theory of judgments. Still less can a doctrine of syllogisms be derived from Platonic intimations;104 and though, in the method of divisions, there is foreshadowed the demonstrative process by which Aristotle descends from the universal to the particular, we must remember that it is precisely the syllogistic medium of this progression that is here wanting.105 On the whole, therefore, though we cannot but recognise in Plato essential elements of the Aristotelian logic, it would be a mistake to force these out of their original connection in order to construct from them a Platonic logic on a later model.106

In relation to his scientific method, Plato also discusses the question of the significance of language for Philosophy. An opening for such a discussion was given him on several sides.107 Among the older philosophers, Heraclitus especially had laid stress on linguistic |211| expression;108 and indeed the Greeks in general, with their quick wit and ready tongues, were fond of deriving and playing upon the words they used.109 Various sophists had afterwards occupied themselves with philosophical questions,110 while at the same time the Sophistic art of disputation necessitated a closer study of forms of speech, and the relation of expression to thought.111 Of the same date are also extant enquiries of Democritus concerning Speech;112 and it is clear from the Platonic Cratylus that in the school of Heraclitus the principle that everything has its natural name, and from names the nature of things is infallibly to be known113 had led to endless and most arbitrary play upon etymologies. This seems to have been likewise the case in the School of Anaxagoras.114 Among the Socratics, |212| Antisthenes had written on names and languages as connected with his dialectical theories.115 And to say nothing of these predecessors, it was necessary for a philosopher like Plato,116 who distinctly acknowledged the close affinity between speech and thought, to make up his mind as to the significance of language for knowledge. It was of the greatest consequence to the Ideal philosophy to ascertain what worth attached to words, and how far a true imitation of things might be recognised in them. His ultimate conclusion, however, is only this: that Philosophy must go her own way independently of Philology. In the Cratylus117 he shows that language is by no means to be regarded as the product of an arbitrary enactment, of which each man may dispose as he likes: for if there be any truth, and if everything has its determinate essence, those names alone can be true which, corresponding to the nature of things, instruct us with regard to their essence;118 which, in other words, rightly imitate things. This is the problem of speech: To provide us with a picture, not of the external phenomenon, but of the |213| essence of things;119 and this it accomplishes by expressing the properties of things in sounds, which require cor responding conditions and movements on the part of the organ of speech.120 On the other hand, however, as Plato remarks, we must not forget that a picture never completely reproduces its subject; and that as in painting, that other art of imitation, there are better and worse artists, so also the makers of words may have committed mistakes which perhaps may run through a whole language.121 not always logically formed,122 and why, as a whole, they do not represent one and the same view of the world. There are many etymologies, for instance, on which the Heraclitean doctrine of the flux of all things is based;123 but against all of them others might be advanced with equal conclusiveness to support the opposite view.124 Accordingly we must allow that caprice, custom, and common consent have each had a share in language,125 and we must consequently give up seeking in words a knowledge of things.126 As the first naming presupposes a knowledge of the things named,127 we must, like the first word-makers, turn our attention, not to names, but rather to the things themselves,128 and acknowledge the dialectian to be the superior critic, who has to overlook the work of the language-maker, |214| and decide on the correctness or incorrectness of the names bestowed.129 Dialectic alone is that which governs and perfects all other arts: and philological enquiries only afford another confirmation of this truth.130

We have now considered separately the two conditions of philosophic activity, — philosophic impulse and philosophic method. It remains to show how, in the union of these, Philosophy as a whole develops itself in man. Plato, after some imperfect and partial hints in the Symposium,131 gives a full representation of this process in the Republic. The groundwork of all culture and education is here said to be Music (in the larger sense given to the word by the Greeks) and Gymnastic: a harmonious blending of the two will temper the soul aright, and free it alike from effeminacy and rudeness.132 The chief thing, however, and the only direct preparation for Philosophy is Music. The ultimate aim of all musical education is that children growing up in a healthy moral atmosphere should get a taste for all that is good and noble, and accustom |215| themselves to practise it.133 Musical education must result in love of beauty, which is in its nature pure and undisturbed by sensuous admixture.134 (Here, also, Eros is the beginning of philosophy.) This education, however, is as yet without intelligence (λόγος), a thing of mere habit;135 its fruit is at first ordinary virtue, guided by Right Opinion; not philosophic virtue, ruled by scientific Knowledge.136 To attain this, scientific education must be added to musical. But the highest object of science is the Idea of the Good; and the inclination of the spirit to this Idea is its highest problem. The turning towards true existence is in the beginning as painful to the spiritual eye as the vision of full sunlight to one who has lived all his life in a dark cavern. On the other hand, he who is accustomed to the contemplation of Being will at first only grope about uncertainly in the twilight of the world of phenomena, and so for a while appear to those who inhabit it as an ignorant and incapable person. The inference is, not that this turning to perfect truth should be unattempted, but only that it should be accomplished by natural gradations.137 These stages or steps are formed by all the sciences, which, pointing out the inherence of |216| thought even in the sensuous form, at the same time induce consciousness of the inadequacy and contradictoriness of the sensuous Perception. The mathematical sciences, e.g. (including Mechanics, Astronomy, and Acoustics), are a middle term between the ordinary Perception or Opinion attaching to Sense, and pure sciences, just as their object, according to Plato, stands midway between the Idea and the Phenomenon. They are distinguished from Opinion, as being occupied with the Essence of things, with the common and invariable basis which underlies the plurality of different and contradictory perceptions. And they are distinguished from science in the narrower acceptation, as making known the Idea, not purely in itself, but in the objects of Sense; they are therefore still fettered to certain dogmatic premises, instead of dialectically accounting for these, and thus cancelling them in the first principle of all, itself without presupposition.138 If, however, the mathematical sciences are to be of any real use, they must be treated in some other than the usual manner. Instead of being pursued only for practical ends, and in their application to the corporeal, the transition from Sense to Thought must be upheld as their proper aim; the pure contemplation of number, magnitude, and the like, must be made their main object; in a word, they must be used philosophically and not empirically.139 In that case they |217| necessarily lead to Dialectic, which, as the highest and best of sciences, forms the coping stone of all the rest; which alone comprehends all other sciences, and teaches their right application.140

In the whole of this exposition, the unity and internal relation of the theoretical and practical, the two constituent parts which together form the essence of Philosophy, are set forth with more than usual decision. Elsewhere Philosophy is viewed, now as Eros, now as Dialectic: here it is most positively affirmed, that while mere love of beauty is inadequate without scientific culture, scientific culture is impossible without love of beauty: they are mutually related as different stages of one process. Philosophic love consummates itself in scientific contemplation.141 Science, on the other hand, is not a mere concern of the intellect, but is also practical in its nature, occupied not with the external accumulation of knowledge, but with the turning of the spiritual eye, and the whole man, to the Ideal.142 As they are one in principle,143 they ultimately |218| coincide in their working and manifestation. In the Symposium,144 the pain of the philosophic new birth is represented as an effect of philosophic love; here it appears as a consequence of the dialectical ascent to the Idea. In the Phaedrus, philosophic love is described as a μανία; in this place the same is virtually said of close attention to Dialectic; Dialectic at first causes unfitness for the affairs of practical life: and it is the very essence of μανία, that to the eye dazzled with the vision of the Ideal finite associations and relations should disappear.145 Practice and theory are thus absolutely conjoined. He alone146 is capable of philosophic cognition who has early learned the renunciation of things sensuous; conversely in the Republic (x. 611 D), Philosophy appears as the raising of the whole man out of the ocean of sense, as the scraping off of the shells and weeds that have overgrown the soul; and in the Phaedo (64 sq.), as the complete liberation from the dominion of the body — the death of the inner man: thought being set forth as the means of this liberation, since by it we the above sensible impressions. In Philosophy, then, there is no longer any opposition of theory and practice, and the different kinds of theoretic activity unite into a whole. All the various forms of knowledge — Perception, Opinion, intelligent Reflection are but |219| stages of philosophic or reasoned Knowledge.147 They stand to this last, therefore, in a double relation. On the one hand, they must be transcended if true Knowledge is to be attained. He who would behold the absolutely real must free himself from the body; he must renounce the senses, which draw us away from |220| pure contemplation, and intervene darkling between the spirit and truth;148 he must turn his eyes away from shadows and direct them to true Being,149 must rise from the irrational Envisagement to Reason:150 he must remember that eyes and ears were given us, not that we might revel in sensuous sights and sounds, but to lead us, through the perception of the heavenly motions and of audible harmony, to order and harmony in the soul’s movements.151 We must not stop short at conditioned, mathematical thought, which makes use of certain presuppositions, but does not analyse them.152 But, on the other hand, the sensuous Phenomenon is at any rate a copy of the Idea, and thus serves to awaken in us the recollection of the Idea:153 Right Opinion is only distinguished from Knowledge by the want of dialectic establishment.154 The mathematical sciences, too, are, in Plato’s view, the most direct and indispensable preliminaries of Dialectic; for they represent in sensible form the concepts which the philosopher contemplated in their purity.155 It is therefore one and the same matter with which the different intellectual activities have to do, only that this matter is not apprehended by all as equally perfect and unalloyed. That which is true in the sensuous Perception, in Opinion and in reflective Thought, is included in |221| Philosophy as pure thought: the Idea is there grasped whole and entire, its confused and partial appropriation having already given to the lower forms of knowledge an import, and a relative share in truth.156 Philosophy is consequently not one science among others, but Science absolutely, the only adequate manner of knowing; and all the particular sciences157 must fall under this, so soon as they are rightly treated. They thus belong to the propaedeutic of Philosophy,158 and find in Dialectic their end; and they are worthless in proportion and as long as they are withheld from the use of the dialectician.159 Nay, even the handicraft arts — contemptuously |222| as the Republic repudiates them,160 and however little worth Plato in reality allowed to them even they, by virtue of their relative share in truth else where conceded, belong likewise to the first stages of Philosophy.161

Philosophy is therefore, in a word, the focus which unites all the scattered rays of truth in human opinion and action;162 it is the absolute consummation of the spiritual life generally, the royal art sought in the Euthydemus163 by Socrates, in which making or producing, and knowledge of the use of that which is made, coincide.

Plato is, however, quite aware that Philosophy is never fully and perfectly represented in actuality. As early as the Phaedrus we find him desiring that no man shall be called wise, but only at most a lover of wisdom, for God alone is wise.164 So in the Parmenides (131 C) he declares that God alone has perfect knowledge: and on that ground he claims for men, in a celebrated passage of the Theaetetus (176 B), not divinity, but only the greatest possible likeness to God. Still less does it appear to him conceivable that the soul in this earthly life, among the incessantly disturbing influences of the body, should attain the pure intuition of truth:165 even the endeavour for wisdom or the philosophic impulse, he derives not merely from the inclination |223| of man towards wisdom, but also from the feeling of ignorance:166 and he confesses that the highest object of knowledge, the Good or God, is only to be arrived at with difficulty, and only to be beheld at specially favourable moments.167 Yet it by no means follows from this that what he himself calls Philosophy is to him but an impracticable ideal that he gives to the Divine science alone that high significance and unbounded range, and regards human science, on the contrary, as a manner of mental life, side by side with other activities equally good and useful. It is assuredly human science developing itself, by a long series of means, out of the philosophic impulse, to which in the Symposium and Republic he assigns so lofty a place; for the engendering of which he gives detailed directions; on which he grounds the whole organism of his state; without which, as a ruling power, he sees no period to human misery. The philosophic sobriety and moderation of our own times, thankful for any crumbs that may be left for thought — was unknown to Plato. To him Philosophy is the totality of all mental activities in their completed development, the only adequate realization of reasonable human nature, the queen whom all other realms must serve, and of whom alone they hold in fief their allotted share of truth. Whether or not this view is well founded, whether Plato conceives the idea of Philosophy with sufficient clearness, whether he does not over-estimate the compass of human intellectual powers, or rightly determines the |224| relation of spiritual activities and the limits of the different spheres of life — this is not the place to enquire.

For the further development of the Platonic system, we distinguish, in accordance with the foregoing observations — Dialectic, or the doctrine of the Idea — Physics, or the doctrine of the Phenomenon of the Idea in nature — Ethics, or the doctrine of its representation in human action. The question as to the relation of the Platonic Philosophy to Religion and Art will afterwards be supplementary considered.


1^ Grote’s objections (Plato, i. 259 sq.) have been answered, Part i. p. 157.

2^ Cf. Republic v. 475 E sqq., and passages to be presently cited.

3^ Republic iii. 523 E sq.; x. 602 C sq.

4^ Theaetetus 187 A: ὅμως δὲ τοσοῦτόν γε προβεβήκαμεν, ὥστε μὴ ζητεῖν αὐτὴν ἐν αἰσθήσει τὸ παράπαν ἀλλ᾽ ἐν ἐκείνῳ τῷ ὀνόματι, ὅτι ποτ᾽ ἔχει ἡ ψυχή, ὅταν αὐτὴ καθ᾽ αὑτὴν πραγματεύηται περὶ τὰ ὄντα. [However, we have progressed so far, at least, as not to seek for knowledge in perception at all, but in some function of the soul, whatever name is given to it when it alone and by itself is engaged directly with realities.]

5^ Vide 187 C sq.

6^ Vide 189 B-200 D; and specially the end of this section. Briefly, the drift of the whole — in particular of the elaborate comparisons of the soul to a wax-tablet and to a dove-cot — is to show that in supposing the identity of Knowledge and Right Opinion there is an incorrect combination of an opinion with a perception, not a confusion of the concepts themselves; and that, therefore, such a supposition is incorrect. In refuting what is false, Plato generally gives hints of the truth; and we find a series of acute and striking remarks in the course of his demonstration, specially in the distinction (afterwards so productive in Aristotle’s hands) between actual and potential knowledge, and in the dictum that error is based, not in our particular opinions about or envisagements of things, but in an incorrect combination of these; in the case of sensible things, an incorrect combination of the pictures our memory makes with our perceptions: 190 B sq. Steinhart (Pl. W. iii. 44, 93 sq.) lays such stress on this positive side of the dialogue as to assert that the genetic development of the process of thought is to be recognised in it, as well as the refutation of error as to the nature of Knowledge. I cannot agree with him here: there is no investigation into the genesis of Knowledge; and even its nature is only indirectly hinted at in separating it from Perception and Opinion.

7^ On the other hand, Bonitz (Plat. Stud. i. 69 sq.) thinks that the question at 187 B, 200 C, is not as to the possibility of error, but the explanation of what goes on in the soul when error arises. To me the point seems to lie in the demonstration that if δόξα ἀληθὴς coincided with ἐπιστὴμη, δόξα ψευδὴς would be inexplicable; Theaetetus’ definition of ἐπιστὴμη as δόξα ἀληθὴς is refuted apagogically. This view, in my opinion, is favoured by the fact that it, and it alone, can bring the section we are discussing into harmony with the theme of the whole dialogue. Regarded in any other light, this section becomes an unmotived episode of disproportionate length, interrupting the enquiry into the concept of ἐπιστὴμη. And the subsequent progress of the dialogue confirms my explanation. The difficulties with which the explanation of False Opinion to contend come back finally to the contradiction: ‘what I know I must at the same time not know, or must confound with something else;’ cf. p. 199 C sq.; 196 C et alibi. But the contradiction disappears as soon as the supposition of 187 C (that the opposite of δόξα ψευδὴς, δόξα ἀληθὴς coincides with ἐπιστὴμη) is given up. Right Opinion (δόξα ἀληθὴς) may (as Plato says in the Meno, 97 E; Timaeus 51 E) pass into error; Knowledge (ἐπιστὴμη) cannot.

8^ This is directly enunciated by the Gorgias, 454 D: ‘ἆρ᾽ ἔστιν τις — πίστις ψευδὴς καὶ ἀληθής;’ φαίης ἄν, ὡς ἐγὼ οἶμαι. Ναί. τί δέ; ἐπιστήμη ἐστὶν ψευδὴς καὶ ἀληθής; Oὐδαμῶς. Δῆλον ἄρ᾽ αὖ ὅτι οὐ ταὐτόν ἐστιν. Πίςτις is here equivalent to the δόξα of other passages; cf. Republic iii. 534 A sq. (infra, note 14), where that part of δόξα which relates to Reality as distinguished from mere pictures of things is called πίστις; and ibid. v. 477 E: ὡμολόγεις μὴ τὸ αὐτὸ εῖναι ἐπιστὴμην τε καὶ δόξαν Πῶς γὰρ ἂν ἂν ἔφη, τό γε ἀναμάρτητον τῷ μὴ ἀναμαρτήτοῳ ταὐτὸν ποτέ τις νοῦν ἔχων τιθείη.

9^ Cf. Schleiermacher, Platon’s Werke, ii. 1, 176.

10^ With Antisthenes, v. Part i. p. 252 sq.

11^ V. 201 C-210. I cannot here go into the details of the argument; v. Susemihl, i. 199 sq.; Steinhart, ii. 81 sq. Hermann’s opinion (Plat. 498, 659, repeated by Alberti, z. Dialektik d. Pl., Jahn’s Jahrb. Suppl., New Series, i. 123, and favoured by Susemihl, p. 207, and Steinhart, p. 85) that the position apparently disputed really contains Plato’s own view, contradicts the obvious sense of the passage. Right Opinion, according to Plato, becomes Knowledge, not through any explanation in Antisthenes sense, but through cognition of causes (αἰτίας γισμῷ, Meno, 98 A).

12^ 97 sq.; cf. Symposium 202 A; Republic vi. 506 C. The same characteristic distinguishes τέχνη from ἐμπειρία in the Gorgias, 465 A.

13^ Gorgias, 454 E.

14^ V. 476 D-478 D. Cf. Symposium 202 A; Philebus 59 A sq. Similarly in Republic vi. 509 D sq.; vii. 533 E sq., the domain of the Visible and of Becoming is assigned to Opinion, that of the Intellectual and of Being to Knowledge. The further subdivision of δόξα into opinion about (or envisagement of real things on the one hand (πίστις) and their mere pictures on the other (εἰκασία) is made to parallel the subdivision of Knowledge into symbolic and pure Knowledge: v. p. 510 D. In other places Plato puts αἴσθησις side by side with δόξα, e.g. in the Parmenides, 155 D; Timaeus, 28 B; 37 B; besides the Theaetetus. Cf. also the passage (to be noticed presently) in Aristotle, De Anima, i. 2, 404 b. 21.

15^ Cf. following note.

16^ Meno, 99 A sq. et al.; Phaedo, 82 A: οἱ τὴν δημοτικὴν καὶ πολιτικὴν ἀρετὴν ἐπιτετηδευκότες, ἣν δὴ καλοῦσι σωφροσύνην τε καὶ δικαιοσύνην, ἐξ ἔθους τε καὶ μελέτης γεγονυῖαν ἄνευ φιλοσοφίας τε καὶ νοῦ. Republic x. 619 (of one who has brought unhappiness on himself by an unwise choice in his second life): εἶναι δὲ αὐτὸν τῶν ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ ἡκόντων, ἐν τεταγμένῃ πολιτείᾳ ἐν τῷ προτέρῳ βίῳ βεβιωκότα, ἔθει ἄνευ φιλοσοφίας ἀρετῆς μετειληφότα. Cf. Republic iii. 402 A; vii. 522 A.

17^ Meno, 97 sq.; especially 99 A-C; Republic vii. 53-4 C.

18^ Protagoras, 319 B sq.; Meno, 87 B sq.; 93 sqq.

19^ Meno, 91 B sq., where Anytus represents the men of δημοτικὴ ἀρετή.

20^ This view of the θεία μοῖρα was enunciated by Ritter, ii. 472, and opposed by Hermann (Jahn’s Archiv 1840. p. 56 sq.; cf. Plat. 484), Susemihl (Genet. Ent. i. 71), Fenerlein (Sittenl. d. Alterth. 82), Schaarschhndt (Samml. d. Plat. Sch. 350), and Stallbaum (Vind. loci leg. Plat. 22 pq.). It may be easily explained and supported. The expression denotes any divine dispensation, either in the disposition of outward circumstances, or in the natural endowments and inward motives of individuals. We see the former exemplified in Socrates’ words (Phaedo, 58 E): μηδ᾽ εἰς Ἅιδου ἰόντα ἄνευ θείας μοίρας ἰέναι, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐκεῖσε ἀφικόμενον εὖ πράξειν: the latter in Republic vi. 492 E, where it is said that with ordinary human endowments no one can be saved for philosophy in the present corruption of States; but ὅ τι περ ἂν σωθῇ τε καὶ γένηται οἷον δεῖ ἐν τοιαύτῃ καταστάσει πολιτειῶν, θεοῦ μοῖραν αὐτὸ σῶσαι λέγων οὐ κακῶς ἐρεῖς. (Schaarsehmidt gives an inexact account of this in making Plato say that if a moral character does appear in the world, it is only through divine aid; the question is not of the world in general, but of the existing καταστάσις τῶν πολιτειῶν.) Here the divine dispensation includes both ways of help: the extraordinary endowment of the individual, and the favourable disposition of outward circumstances, which unite to preserve him from the bad influence of a corrupt state; cf. ibid. 496 B sq. Similarly, in Plato’s Apology, 33 C (vide Part i. 49, 5), the dreams and oracles urging Socrates to occupy himself with philosophy are attributed to θεία μοῖρα. In other passages the expression is applied to natural disposition, natural excellence of any sort, θεία μοῖρα properly denoting the divine in man, the divine inheritance which is his, because of his kinship to the gods (e.g. in Protagoras 322 A; Phaedrus 230 A). In this sense the true ruler who has been brought to right practical knowledge (ἐπιστήμη) by an unusually happy natural disposition, and has learnt to act correspondingly, is said (Laws ix. 875 C) to be θεία μοῖρα γεννηθείς. The same or a similar designation for the natural disposition of men is found in Xen. Mem. ii. 3, 18; Aristotle Eth. Ni. x. 10, 1179 b. 21, as pointed out by Hermann, loc. cit. p. 56; cf. also Epinomis 985 A. In all these instances, θεία μοῖρα a is simply used of the derivation of some fact from divine causation, without excluding conscious human activity; thus knowledge itself may be ultimately referred to divine dispensation, as in Republic vi. 492 E; Laws ix. 875 C. In other places, θεία μοῖρα is opposed to ἐπιστήμη, when a thing is spoken of as due, not to conscious human activity motived by knowledge, but to mere natural disposition, to circumstances, or to some inspiration of which no clear account can be given. Thus in Republic ii. 366 C, θεία φύσει (essentially equivalent to θεία μοῖρα) and ἐπιστήμη are opposed in the words (‘all love injustice’) πλὴν εἴ τις θείᾳ φύσει δυσχεραίνων τὸ ἀδικεῖν ἢ ἐπιστήμην λαβὼν ἀπέχεται αὐτοῦ. Similarly in the Laws i. 642 C, θεία μοῖρα, is made parallel to αὐτοφυῶς, as opposed to ἀνάγκη: the man who is righteous at Athens, we are there told, must be really and unmistakably righteous, for there is no compulsion in the laws or institutions to keep him so, and he must be simply following the dictates of his own nature. Here, as in Republic vi. 492 E (v. supra), the θεία μοῖρα must denote the virtue of an individual in an evilly constituted state, as an exception only ascribable to a special dispensation of providence. Analogous to this is the opposition we find in the Phaedrus 244 C sq., between prophetic inspiration, which is spoken of in terms of praise as resulting θεία μοῖρα, and the ζήτησις τῶν ἐμφρόνων: the same opposition is used in the Ion 534 B, with reference to poetic inspiration: poets are said to utter themselves οὐ τέχνῃ ἀλλὰ θείᾳ μοίρᾳ: and we may compare the similar expressions of the Apology 22 C. ὅτι οὐ σοφίᾳ ποιοῖεν ἃ ποιοῖεν, ἀλλὰ φύσει τινὶ καὶ ἐνθουσιάζοντες κ.τ.λ., and Laws iii. 682 A. In the Meno, the contrast to knowledge and to virtue dependent on knowledge denoted by θεία μοῖρα, is clear: the great statesmen of old, we read in 99 B sq., achieved their business by pure εὐδοξίᾳ, οὐ σοφία τινὶ οὐδὲ σοφοὶ ὄντες: as far as their wisdom went, they were on a level with soothsayers, etc. (οὐδὲν διαφερόντως ἔχοντες πρὸς τὸ φρονεῖν ἢ οἱ χρησμῳδοί κ.τ.λ.), who often hit the truth unconsciously (νοῦν μὴ ἔχοντες – μηδὲν εἰδότες ὧν λέγουσιν). Virtue comes to those who cannot impart it to others by teaching, θεία μοῖρα ἄνευ νοῦ: he who can so impart it may be compared to Tiresias: οἶος πέπνυται, αἱ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀΐσσουσιν. A virtue to which such expressions are applicable is so far below philosophic morality, that if Plato in the Meno derived the latter from θεία μοῖρα, he could not (v. Feuerlein, loc. cit.) have been clear in his own mind as to the derivation of virtue; and Hermann’s assertion (loc. cit. p. 61 sq.) that in the persons of whom Plato is here speaking, the imperfections of customary virtue are supposed to be complemented by divine aid, ita ut, si quis divinitus regatur, eum non minus firmiter incedere significet, quam qui rationem ducem habeat, is altogether untenable. The passage in the Politicus, which he quotes to support his view (309 C), is not to the point: it deals not with the virtue discussed in the Meno, but with philosophic virtue; if right opinion (ἀληθὴς δόξα), as to Right and Wrong, duly substantiated (μετὰ βεβαιώσεως), has been appropriated by the soul, then (according to the Politicus) the moral faculties of the soul are bound together by a divine bond. It is precisely in virtue of this confirmation (δεσμὸς) that, according to the Meno, 97 E sq., right opinion becomes knowledge. Finally, I cannot admit that Steinhart has given an adequate account of Plato’s view, Pl. W. ii. 118. According to him, in practical life, even where cognition fails, or is incomplete, Plato would say that the element of divinity in man, combined with the correct practical judgment that experience gives, is able to produce a solidity and certainty of moral action, commendable in its sphere, having its source, equally with the higher virtue, in the divine life. It is precisely this certainty of moral action that Plato, loc. cit., denies to any virtue not based on knowledge; yet there is no contradiction in his deriving customary virtue from a divine dispensation, and we need see no irony in the expression (as Morgenstern, Stallbaum, and others do; cf. Hermann, loc. cit. p. 52 A, 4); he recognises the disposition of God in the fact that virtue has not yet died out of the world, careless as men are of its preservation by means of thorough teaching just as in Republic vi. 492 E, he ascribes the appearance now and then in corrupt states of a genuine philosopher to the mercy of heaven. Customary virtue, then, though not absolutely a thing of chance, is such to those who possess it, because they have not the means of producing it by scientific method in others, or of keeping it safe (Meno, 97 E sq.; 100 A); and it is only in this sense that I have here, and in my Platonic Studies, p. 109, spoken of θεία μοῖρα as at all approximating to chance.

21^ Meno 96 D; to end; cf. Apology 21 B sq.

22^ Protagoras 352-357, 358 C; Gorgias 466 D; 468 E; Meno, 77 B sq.; Theaetetus 170 C sq.; Euthydemus 279 D sq., where εὐτυχία, is reduced to wisdom. The eudaemonistic premises that may seem to underlie any of these passages must be taken as κατ’ ἄνθρωπον; where Plato gives us unconditional enunciation of his own views, the eudaemonistic basis of morals is most decidedly rejected.

23^ Timaeus 86 D; vide beginning of next chapter.

24^We get this fully enunciated only in the Hippias Minor, of which this assertion forms the theme; but it is clearly to be seen in other places, v. previous and two following notes, and Part i. p. 123, 1.

25^ Republic vii. 535 D: οὐκοῦν καὶ πρὸς ἀλήθειαν, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, ταὐτὸν τοῦτο ἀνάπηρον ψυχὴν θήσομεν, ἣ ἂν τὸ μὲν ἑκούσιον ψεῦδος μισῇ καὶ χαλεπῶς φέρῃ αὐτή τε καὶ ἑτέρων ψευδομένων ὑπεραγανακτῇ, τὸ δ᾽ ἀκούσιον εὐκόλως προσδέχηται καὶ ἀμαθαίνουσά που ἁλισκομένη μὴ ἀγανακτῇ, ἀλλ᾽ εὐχερῶς ὥσπερ θηρίον ὕειον ἐν ἀμαθίᾳ μολύνηται. Cf. ibid ii 382.

26^ Vide Part i. p. 123; and Hippias Minor 376 B: ὁ ἄρα ἑκὼν ἁμαρτάνων καὶ αἰσχρὰ καὶ ἄδικα ποιῶν, ὦ Ἱππία, εἴπερ τίς ἐστιν οὗτος, οὐκ ἂν ἄλλος εἴη ἢ ὁ ἀγαθός.

27^ Meno 71 D sq.

28^ Plato repeats this Socratic dictum in his earlier dialogues, specially in the Protagoras. The assertion that δικαιοσύνην, σωφροσύνη, ὁσιότης, σοφία, and ἀνδρεία are so many parts of virtue is met (329 C-333 B) by several objections, more subtle than convincing, but seriously meant by Plato: then in 349 B the question is taken up afresh; and, as Protagoras concedes that the first four of the virtues mentioned resemble each other, but maintains that Courage is altogether diverse from each of them, he is shown (358 C sq.): (1) that no one chooses what he deems an evil rather than good; (2) that fear is the expectation of evil; (3) that, therefore, no one chooses what he deems fearful; (4) that the distinction between the courageous and the timid comes to the one knowing, and the other not knowing, what is fearful and what not; and that, therefore, Courage is ανδρεία. A definition identical with this (noticed Part i. p. 120, 3) is combated by Socrates in the Laches, 198 A sq. But the objection brought against it there is, that courage, so defined, cannot be a part of virtue along with other parts, because we cannot know what is to be feared and what not, without knowing generally what is good and what evil; and such knowledge embraces all virtues. This plainly does not amount to a rejection of the definition as useless: the point enunciated is, that the different virtues are not a series of independent qualities, but merely different forms of virtue as a whole, and the essence of virtue, according to the well-known Socratic doctrine, resides in cognition of the good. In the Charmides, again, 173 A sq., where a doubt is raised as to the usefulness of σωφροσύνη, regarded as self-knowledge, and therefore knowledge of our knowledge, there is not really any objection raised to the reduction of σωφροσύνη to knowledge; we are only shown that the relation of knowledge to happiness requires a more exact determination than that hitherto given.

29^ Bonitz (Hermes v. 444 sq.) thinks that the definition of courage in the Laches virtually coincides with the later definition of the Republic. Taking the definition of 192 D (φρόνιμος καρτερία) in connection with 194 E and 199 B sq. (where virtue is said to consist in knowing what is good and what bad), we get the concept of courage, he thinks, as equivalent to constancy dependent on moral insight. This connection seems to me, however, to be reading more into the dialogue than is there properly. In 192 D sq. Socrates does not merely combat the notion that an unintelligent hardihood deserves the name of courage, but shows further that even to define the latter as φρόνιμος καρτερία is incorrect. The arguments he uses to prove this may perhaps be, even from the Socratic-Platonic point of view, not irrefutable, but there is nothing to show that they are not seriously meant. Courage is proved to be neither a φρόνιμος καρτερία nor an ἀφρον καρτέρησις: we can but conclude that its essence is not καρτερία at all. On the other hand, the really Socratic definition proposed by Nicias, as has been remarked, is not unconditionally disputed; it is shown to be irreconcilable with the sup position that courage is merely a part of virtue, but we are not told whether the fault lies in that supposition or in Nicias definition. The former, in my opinion, is Plato’s meaning, judging from the point of view he adopts in the Protagoras; so that the positive side of the question (hinted at by the apparently resultless discussion of the Laches) is given by the Socratic principle, that courage, like all virtue, is reducible to knowledge the knowledge of the good.

30^ Meno 71 E; Crito 49 B sq.; Republic i. 334 13. Cf. Part i. p. 142 sq.

31^ Phaedo 68 D i-q.; 82 C; Republic ii. 362 E sq. Justice is recommended only because of the reward it wins from men and gods, in this world and the next, not for its own sake; indeed, the happiness of the unjust is the subject of praise and envy, and even the gods are believed to be not inexorable to their sacrifices.

32^ Republic i. 334 B sq.; Crito loc. cit. It is only from the point of view of universal consciousness hat Plato (Philebus 49 D) regards joy at an enemy’s misfortune as allowable; cf. Susemihl, ii. 38: here he is repeating a Socratic definition, v. Part i. p. 142, 3.

33^ Plato shows (Republic ii. 365 A sq.) that the most reckless self-seeking is a strict consequence from the motives generally adduced for justice; and in Republic vi. 492 A sq., he points on I that the masses which in political assemblies rule states and statesmen are the only real perverters of youth, — the great Sophists, whom the so-called Sophists merely follow, in studying and pandering to their inclinations. Sophistic ethics, in his opinion, are the simple consequence of the ethics of custom.

34^ Phaedo 08 B sq.; 82 C; 83 E; Republic x. 012 A. The first, specially, of these passages is one of the purest and most beautiful that Plato ever wrote. One is tempted to quote many kindred passages; perhaps I may be allowed to refer to the noble places in Spinoza, Eth. pr. 41; Ep. 34, p. 503.

35^ Theatetus 170 A; 172 B; 177 C-187 A; Cratylus 386 A sq.; 439 C sq.

36^ Similarly Aristotle (Metaphysics iv. 4, 5) refutes the doctrine of Heraclitus and Protagoras as denying the principle of contradiction.

37^ Cf. specially 466 C-479 E; 488 B-508 C. The conversation with the politician Callicles belongs to the refutation of the Sophistic principle, as I have shown in vol. i. p. 922, 6. According to Plato, Sophistic ethics are only the enunciation in general principles of what the world is accustomed to do without talking about it: v. supra, p. 182, 33. Cf. Part i. p. 23.

38^ Cf. Theaetetus 176 D sq. As to the apparently different exposition of the Protagoras, v. p. 188, 46.

39^ Specially 23 B-55 C.

40^ Cf. Republic ix. 583 E: τό γε ἡδὺ ἐν ψυχῇ γιγνόμενον καὶ τὸ λυπηρὸν κίνησίς τις ἀμφοτέρω ἐστιν. Timaeus 64.

41^ Webmann (Plat, de summ. bon. doctr. p. 49 sq.) thinks that Plato cannot be here sneaking of the feeling of pleasure as such, and would, therefore, understand, by ἡδονὴ, Desire. There is no hint of this in Plato’s words; indeed, in the Philebus 27 E, 41 D, ἡδονὴ is shown to be the feeling of pleasure unmistakably by its opposition to λύπη. It is without limit (or indefinite), because always combined with its opposite (v. supra, and Phaedo p. 60 B; Phaedrus 258 E), and hence containing the possibility of continual increase, in proportion as it frees itself from that opposite.

42^ Ix. 583 B; 587 A, and the previous quotations from 376 E, onwards.

43^ Republic iv. 445 A sq.

44^ Republic i. 339-347.

45^ 348 B sq., where, however, the clearness of the thought (correct in itself) is marred by the equivocal use of the word πλεονεκτεῖν, the propriety of which I cannot recognise with Susemihl, ii. 101.

46^ The exposition given above seems to be contradicted by the treatment of the ethical question in the Protagoras. To support his definition of courage as σοφία τῶν δεινῶν καὶ μὴ δεινῶν (360 D), Socrates asserts (350 B) that ἡδέως ζῇν is coincident with εὖ ζῇν, or the ἀγαθὸν — ἀηδῶς ζῇν with the κακόν. Protagoras objects that not every ἡδὺ is an ἀγαθὸν, nor every ἀνιαρὸν a κακόν. To this the answer is, 353 C sqq., that the Pleasant is called evil only when productive of greater unpleasantness, the Unpleasant is called good only when productive of greater pleasantness; and that the art of living consists in rightly estimating the proportions of Pleasure and Pain resultant not merely with reference to the present but the future from our actions. If, with Grote (Plato, ii. 78 sq.; 120, 559; i. 540), we here recognise the positive expression of Plato’s own conviction, we are obliged to concede the existence of an irreconcilable contradiction between the Protagoras and the other Dialogues, specially the Gorgias. We might, however, well hesitate to ascribe such inconsistency to Plato, even if we held with Grote that the sensualist theory of the Protagoras were correct in itself. The Crito and the Apology, which can scarcely be younger, at all events not much younger, works than the Protagoras, enunciate views which are incompatible with Grote’s interpretation of that dialogue (cf. p. 128). Plato shows that the theories put in Socrates’ mouth in the Protagoras are not his ultimatum, by the repeated reference to the πολλοὶ (351 C, 353 E), who are mainly concerned showing them that they have no right to assume the possibility of doing evil knowingly, be cause evil, in the end, is always harmful to man. But why this is so, is not said: it remains undecided whether the Pleasure, which is to form the standard of the good, is sensuous pleasure (to which the concept of ἡδονὴ in the Philebus is limited), or that higher contentment which arises from the healthiness of the soul. This question is not discussed till we get to the Gorgias and the later Dialogues, nor is the Good expressly distinguished from the Pleasant (v. supr. p. 121, 70). We thus see an advance in the development of Plato’s Ethics, not to much in contrast as in scientific elaboration. Eudaemonism such as Grote attributes to Plato, is alien even to the Protagoras.

47^ V. Sophist 268B; Phaedrus, 261 A sq.; Gorgias 455 A; 462 B-466 A. The Euthydemus is a satire on the Eristic of the Sophists. Cf. vol. i. 885, 910 sq.

4848^ Republic vi. 493.

49^ Meno 90 A sq.; with which cf. all the dialogues contrasting the Sophistic and Socratic theories of virtue: e.g. Hippias Minor, Protagoras, Gorgias, the first book of the Republic, and ibid. vi. 495 C sqq.

50^ Protagoras 313 C sqq.; Sophist 223 B-226 A; Republic vi. 495 C sq.

51^ Gorgias 517 B sq. This judgment applied equally to the most famous Athenian statesmen, we are told, ibid. 515 C sqq.

52^ Gorgias 458 E sq.; 463 A sq.; 504 D sq. Cf. Theaetetus 201 A sq.; Politicus 304 C.

53^ Gorgias 462 B sq. Demagogy is compared to Cookery by Aristophanes, Equites, 215 sq.

54^ Cf. pp. 144, 146.

55^ Religious or artistic inspiration generally is called frenzy in Greek. Cf. quotations in vol. i. 651, 1; 759, 3; and Heraclitus on p. Plat. Pyth. orac. c. 6, p. 397.

56^ Phaedrus 244 A sq.; 249 D; Ion 251 B. The unconditioned praise given in the former of these passages to divine inspiration is in keeping with the dithyrambic tone of the speech; it is, however, considerably modified by other places, like Apology, 22 C; Meno 99 B sq.; Timaeus 71 E sq. (cf. Ion 534 b); and the Phaedrus itself, 248 D.

57^ Theaetetus 155 D; cf. Aristotle Metaphysics i. 2; 982 b. 12. This wonder is, loc. cit., derived from the intuition of the various contradictions encompassing ordinary notions or envisagements. It is precisely these in which the Idea announces itself indirectly.

58^ Phaedrus 251 A sq.; Symposium 215 D sq. (v. Part i. p. 153); 218 A sq.; Theaetetus 149 A, 151 A; Republic vii. 515 E; Meno 80 A.

59^ Theaetetus 173 C sqq.; 175 B, E; Republic Vii. 516 E-517 D. We get the type of this philosophic ἀτοπία in Socrates; in it he is the complete philosophic ἐρωτικὸς, ἔρως personified, indeed; v. sq., 221 1) sq., and my translation, Part i. p. 86. Cf. Schwegler, on the Composition of Plato’s Symposium 215 A; Symposium, p. 9 sqq.; Steinhart, Pl. W. iv. 258, etc.

60^ Symposium 206 B sq.; cf. Laws vi. 773 E; iv. 721 B sq.

61^ Pores, the father of Eros, is called the son of Metis; v. note 66.

62^ Loc. cit. 202 B sq.; 203 E sq.

63^ Loc. cit. 199 C-204 B.

64^ Loc. cit. 204 E-200 A.

65^ Loc. cit. 206 C sq. 209 B; cf. Phaedrus 250 B, D.

66^ The above may serve to explain the Myth in Symposium 203. Eros is a δαίμων, one of the beings midway between mortals and immortals, mediating between them. Accordingly, ho is at once poor and rich, ugly and full of love for the beautiful, knowing nothing and ever striving after knowledge; uniting the most contradictory qualities, because in Love the finite and the infinite sides of our nature meet and find their unity. He is the son of Penia and Poros, because Love springs partly from man’s need, partly from that higher faculty, which makes him able to get the thing needed; (πόρος is not Wealth, but Getting, Industry). His father is called a son of Metis, because all gain or getting is the fruit of wit or cunning, and this particular gain, the gain of higher good, springs from the reasonable spiritual nature of man. And Eros is born on Aphrodite’s birthday, because it is the revelation of the Beautiful that first awakens Love, soliciting the higher in human nature to fructify the lower, finite, needing element, and unite with it in the struggle towards the Good (cf. 203 C with 206 C sq.). These are the main features of the doctrine, laid down clearly enough in the myth, and hitherto pretty generally agreed on (v. Susemihl, i. 393 sq., with his quotations; and Deuschle, Plat. Myth. p. 13), with only unimportant differences of interpretation in details. Anything beyond this I class as poetic ornament, and I cannot, therefore, agree with the meaning seen by Susemihl, loc. cit., in the garden of Zeus and the drunkenness of Poros. Still less can I accept the interpretation given by Jahn (with the partial approval of Brandis, ii. a. 422 sq.) in his Dissertationes Platonics, 64 sq.; 249 sq., which is really a return to the Neo-Platonic expositions collected with learned industry by him on p. 136 sq. (cf. Steinhart, Plat. W. iv. 388 sq.). According to Jahn, Metis means the divine reason, Poros and Aphrodite the Ideas of the Good and the Beautiful, Penia Matter, and Eros the human soul. This interpretation is as clearly excluded as the right one is unmistakably enunciated by what in the dialogue precedes and follows about Eros without metaphor.

67^ Symposium 208 E-212 A. In the less fully developed exposition of the Phaedrus, 249 D sq., this distinction is barely hinted at, and the philosophic ἔρως is still in immediate connection with παιδεραστια in the good sense.

68^ This circumstance is overlooked by Deuschle, Plat. Myth, 30, where he objects, as against the comparison of ἔρως with the philosophic impulse, that the former only coincides with the letter in its highest completion, The proper object of Love, according to Plato, is primarily the Beautiful as such, the Eternal, the Idea; this can at first be only apprehended in its sensuous and finite copies, and the lover gets only by degrees any insight into the aim and scope of what he does. But this does not alter the case; the lower forms of love are only first steps to (Symposium 211 B sq.), or, if continued in, misunderstandings of, the true philosophic Eros. Properly, it is always the Good and the enduring possession of the Good that all crave (Symposium 205 D sq.; Phaedrus 249 D sq.). Immortality itself (the business, according to Plato, of all, even sensuous love) is only to be won through a philosophic life (Phaedrus 248 E; 256 A sq.; Symposium 212 A, etc.). Plato does not merely understand by philosophy scientific investigation, but, so far as it bears relation to Truth and Reality, every branch of human activity.

69^ Besides the Phaedrus and the Symposium, the Lysis deserves mention here; cf. chap. ii. 99. The result of the enquiry into the concept of φίλος, p. 219 A, is τὸ οὔτε κακὸν οὔτε ἀγαθὸν ἄρα διὰ τὸ κακὸν καὶ τὸ ἐχθρὸν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ φίλον ἐστὶν ἕνεκα τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ καὶ φίλου. And this formula suits the doctrine of the Symposium on Eros completely. Love, according to the Symposium, springs from a defect and a need (διὰ τὸ κακὸν, therefore, or as we have it more precisely in the Lysis 218 C, διὰ κακοῦ παρουσίαν), directs itself, for the sake of the absolute Good and Godlike (ἕνεκά του ἀγαθὸν), towards Beauty in eternal Existence (τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ φίλον), and belongs only to a being standing midway between Finite and Infinite (the οὔτε κακὸν οὔτε ἀγαθὸν). And in p. 218 A we find the dictum of Symposium 203 E sq. that the Gods, or the wise in general, do not philosophize, nor do the utterly ignorant, but only those who are midway between both given in almost the same words. If we are not to suppose that, at the time of writing the Lysis, Plato had found the leading thoughts of his later system, there remains the hypothesis, that the psychological analysis which is the basis of his later exposition had even then led him up to the point attainable from Socratic principles, but the farther metaphysical elucidation of these psychological phenomena did not come till afterwards. This view might gain, some confirmation from the fact that the Symposium 199 C sq. makes Socrates say only what we get in the Lysis, whereas all advance on that is put in the mouth of Diotima. This circumstance, however, cannot be pressed far.

70^ Steger, Die Platonische Dialektik (Plat. Stud. i. Instr. 1869, p. 33 sq.), where passages in point are fully given.

71^ V. Schleiermacher, Introduction to the Phaedrus, esp. p. 65 sq.

72^ Republic vi. 511 B (v. supra, 167): τὸ τοίνυν ἕτερον μάνθανε τμῆμα τοῦ νοητοῦ λέγοντά με τοῦτο οὗ αὐτὸς ὁ λόγος ἅπτεται τῇ τοῦ διαλέγεσθαι δυνάμει, τὰς ὑποθέσεις ποιούμενος οὐκ ἀρχὰς ἀλλὰ τῷ ὄντι ὑποθέσεις, οἷον ἐπιβάσεις τε καὶ ὁρμάς, ἵνα μέχρι τοῦ ἀνυποθέτου ἐπὶ τὴν τοῦ παντὸς ἀρχὴν ἰών, ἁψάμενος αὐτῆς, πάλιν αὖ ἐχόμενος τῶν ἐκείνης ἐχομένων, οὕτως ἐπὶ τελευτὴν καταβαίνῃ, αἰσθητῷ παντάπασιν οὐδενὶ προσχρώμενος, ἀλλ᾽ εἴδεσιν αὐτοῖς δι᾽ αὐτῶν εἰς αὐτά, καὶ τελευτᾷ εἰς εἴδη. Republic vii. 532 A: ὅταν τις τῷ διαλέγεσθαι ἐπιχειρῇ ἄνευ πασῶν τῶν αἰσθήσεων διὰ τοῦ λόγου ἐπ᾽ αὐτὸ ὃ ἔστιν ἕκαστον ὁρμᾶν, καὶ μὴ ἀποστῇ πρὶν ἂν αὐτὸ ὃ ἔστιν ἀγαθὸν αὐτῇ νοήσει λάβῃ, ἐπ᾽ αὐτῷ γίγνεται τῷ τοῦ νοητοῦ τέλει … τί οὖν; οὐ διαλεκτικὴν ταύτην τὴν πορείαν καλεῖς; ibid. 533 C: ἡ διαλεκτικὴ μέθοδος μόνη ταύτῃ πορεύεται, τὰς ὑποθέσεις ἀναιροῦσα, ἐπ᾽ αὐτὴν τὴν ἀρχὴν κ.τ.λ. Philebus 58 A. Dialectic is ἡ τὸ περὶ τὸ ὂν καὶ τὸ κατὰ ταὐτὸν ἀεὶ πεφυκὸς ἐπιστὴμη. Cf. following notes.

73^ Sophist 253 E: ἀλλὰ μὴν τό γε διαλεκτικὸν οὐκ ἄλλῳ δώσεις, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι, πλὴν τῷ καθαρῶς τε καὶ δικαίως φιλοσοφοῦντι. Cf. Phaedrus 278 D.

74^ Republic v. end; vi. 484 B.

75^ Philebus 58 A. Dialectic is the science ἡ πᾶςαν τήν γε νῦν λεγομένην (Arithmetic, Geometry, etc.) γνοίη. Euthydemus 290 B sq.: οἱ δ᾽ αὖ γεωμέτραι καὶ οἱ ἀστρονόμοι καὶ οἱ λογιστικοί—θηρευτικοὶ γάρ εἰσι καὶ οὗτοι: οὐ γὰρ ποιοῦσι τὰ διαγράμματα ἕκαστοι τούτων, ἀλλὰ τὰ ὄντα ἀνευρίσκουσιν—ἅτε οὖν χρῆσθαι αὐτοὶ αὐτοῖς οὐκ ἐπιστάμενοι, ἀλλὰ θηρεῦσαι μόνον, παραδιδόασι δήπου τοῖς διαλεκτικοῖς καταχρῆσθαι αὐτῶν τοῖς εὑρήμασιν, ὅσοι γε αὐτῶν μὴ παντάπασιν ἀνόητοί εἰσιν. Cratylus 390 C: the Dialectician has to overlook the activity of the νομοθέτης (here = ὀνοματοθέτης). The Politicus 305 B sq., gives the Statesman’s art the same relation to all practical arts; but as the Republic (v. 473 C and passim) identifies the true ruler with the true philosopher, we may transfer the assertion to philosophy.

76^ Heyder (Comparison of the Aristotelian and Hegelian Dialectic, i. 49 sq.) is wrong in adding to these, as a third element, the Combination of Concepts. The passages to be presently quoted from the Phaedrus, Philebus, and Sophist plainly show that Plato regards the business of Dialectic as finished in the determination and division of concepts. The Sophist specially shows that the knowledge of the universality of concepts is given in division; and it would be contradictory to Plato’s view to say that division limits off concepts from all others, while combination of concepts gives them their due relations to others. The Sophist tells us that this relation is given by showing how far the concepts are identical or different, i.e. by their spheres being limited off from each other.

77^ Phaedrus 265 D sq. (cf. 261 E, and specially 273 D, 277 B); the art of speech has two essential elements: εἰς μίαν τε ἰδέαν συνορῶντα ἄγειν τὰ πολλαχῇ διεσπαρμένα, ἵνα ἕκαστον ὁριζόμενος δῆλον ποιῇ περὶ οὗ ἂν ἀεὶ διδάσκειν ἐθέλῃ — and πάλιν κατ᾽ εἴδη δύνασθαι διατέμνειν κατ᾽ ἄρθρα ᾗ πέφυκεν, καὶ μὴ ἐπιχειρεῖν καταγνύναι μέρος μηδέν, κακοῦ μαγείρου τρόπῳ χρώμενον...καὶ τοὺς δυναμένους αὐτὸ δρᾶν εἰ μὲν ὀρθῶς ἢ μὴ προσαγορεύω, θεὸς οἶδε, καλῶ δὲ οὖν μέχρι τοῦδε διαλεκτικούς. Sophist 253 B sq.: ἆρ᾽ οὐ μετ᾽ ἐπιστήμης τινὸς ἀναγκαῖον διὰ τῶν λόγων πορεύεσθαι τὸν ὀρθῶς μέλλοντα δείξειν ποῖα ποίοις συμφωνεῖ τῶν γενῶν καὶ ποῖα ἄλληλα οὐ δέχεται; καὶ δὴ καὶ διὰ πάντων εἰ συνέχοντ᾽ ἄττ᾽ αὔτ᾽ ἐστιν, ὥστε συμμείγνυσθαι δυνατὰ εἶναι, καὶ πάλιν ἐν ταῖς διαιρέσεσιν, εἰ δι᾽ ὅλων ἕτερα τῆς διαιρέσεως αἴτια — τὸ κατὰ γένη διαιρεῖσθαι καὶ μήτε ταὐτὸν εἶδος ἕτερον ἡγήσασθαι μήτε ἕτερον ὂν ταὐτὸν μῶν οὐ τῆς διαλεκτικῆς φήσομεν ἐπιστήμης εἶναι; — οὐκοῦν ὅ γε τοῦτο δυνατὸς δρᾶν μίαν ἰδέαν διὰ πολλῶν, ἑνὸς ἑκάστου κειμένου χωρίς, πάντῃ διατεταμένην ἱκανῶς διαισθάνεται, καὶ πολλὰς ἑτέρας ἀλλήλων ὑπὸ μιᾶς ἔξωθεν περιεχομένας, καὶ μίαν αὖ δι᾽ ὅλων πολλῶν ἐν ἑνὶ συνημμένην, καὶ πολλὰς χωρὶς πάντῃ διωρισμένας: τοῦτο δ᾽ ἔστιν, ᾗ τε κοινωνεῖν ἕκαστα δύναται καὶ ὅπῃ μή, διακρίνειν κατὰ γένος ἐπίστασθαι. Politicus 285 A; Philebus 16 C sq.; vide subter, note 92. Only one of the elements here united in the concept of Dialectic is brought into prominence by Republic vii. 537 C. The disposition towards Dialectic, we are there told, consists in the ability to bring particulars under a concept — ὁ συνοπτικὸς διαλεκτικός, ὁ δὲ μὴ οὔ — and in x. 596 A, the peculiarity of dialectic process is described as the seeking one general concept under which to bring the Many. Cf. Republic vii 531 E-534 B, D; Cratylus 390 C. The dialectician is the man who can give account of his convictions in question and answer, and this ability comes from λόγον ἑκάστων λαμβάνειν τῆς οὐσίας.

78^ Theaetetus 208 D; Politicus 285 A.

79^ V. e.g. Meno 71 B: ὃ δὲ μὴ οἶδα τί ἐστιν, πῶς ἂν ὁποῖόν γέ τι εἰδείην; Euthyphro 11 A: κινδυνεύεις, ὦ Εὐθύφρων, ἐρωτώμενος τὸ ὅσιον ὅτι ποτ᾽ ἐστίν, τὴν μὲν οὐσίαν μοι αὐτοῦ οὐ βούλεσθαι δηλῶσαι, πάθος δέ τι περὶ αὐτοῦ λέγειν. Gorgias 448 B sqq., where Polus is asked what Gorgias is, and on answering that his art is the sovereign art, is informed that the question is not ποία τις εἴη ἡ Γοργίου τέχνη, ἀλλὰ τίς.

80^ V. supr. p. 175 sq. On this point, and the nature of real Being, fuller details in the exposition of the theory of Ideas.

81^ Meno 71 D sq. Socrates asks what Virtue is. Meno replies that the virtue of man is so and so, the virtue of woman so and so, etc., and is brought up by Socrates saying that he does not want a σμῆνός ἀρετῶν, but the μία ἀρετὴ, not a Virtue, but Virtue (73 E); or, in other words (72 E), he wants that in which the virtue of man, woman, etc. is not separate, but one and the same. So Theaetetus 146 C sqq., where to Socrates question, what Knowledge is, Theaetetus at first answers with an enumeration of the various sorts of knowledge, and is then told that he was not asked τίνων ἡ ἐπιστήμη, οὐδὲ ὁπόσαι τινές: οὐ γὰρ ἀριθμῆσαι αὐτὰς βουλόμενοι ἠρόμεθα ἀλλὰ γνῶναι ἐπιστήμην αὐτὸ ὅτι ποτ᾽ ἐστίν: the thought of any special form of knowledge always presupposes the general concept of knowledge – σκυτικὴ is ἐπιστὴμη ὑποδημάυων; with no concept of ἐπιστὴμη in general, there can be no concept of σκυτικὴ ἐπιστὴμη in particular. Cf. Euthyphro 5 D, 6 D (the enquiry is into the αὐτὸ δὲ αὑτῷ ὅμοιον καὶ ἔχον μίαν τινὰ ἰδέαν — the εἶδος αὐτὸ ᾧ πάντα τὰ ὅσια ὅσιά ἐστιν), Laches 191 D sq., and supr. p. 198.

82^ Meno, 75 D: δεῖ δὴ πρᾳότερόν πως καὶ διαλεκτικώτερον ἀποκρίνεσθαι. ἔστι δὲ ἴσως τὸ διαλεκτικώτερον μὴ μόνον τἀληθῆ ἀποκρίνεσθαι, ἀλλὰ καὶ δι᾽ ἐκείνων ὧν ἂν προσομολογῇ εἰδέναι ὁ ἐρωτώμενος. Cf. the quotations as to Socrates, Part I. pp. 102, 1; 109.

83^ Politicus 277 E sqq.; as children in learning to read go wrong over the same letters, in complicated words, as they read easily in simple ones, so with us in regard to the στοιχείων τῶν πάντων: and we must do as is done in teaching — ἀνάγειν πρῶτον ἐπ᾽ ἐκεῖνα ἐν οἷς ταὐτὰ ταῦτα ὀρθῶς ἐδόξαζον, ἀναγαγόντας δὲ τιθέναι παρὰ τὰ μήπω γιγνωσκόμενα, καὶ παραβάλλοντας ἐνδεικνύναι τὴν αὐτὴν ὁμοιότητα καὶ φύσιν ἐν ἀμφοτέραις οὖσαν ταῖς συμπλοκαῖς κ.τ.λ. and the use of examples is that, by putting together related cases, we get to recognise an unknown as identical with a known.

84^ So Gorgias 448 B sq 449 D; Meno 73 E sqq.; Theaetetus 146 D sqq.: Politicus 279 A sqq.

85^ The principal passage to refer to is "the Parmenides 135 C sqq. Socrates has been brought into perplexity by the objections to the theory of Ideas, and Parmenides says to him: πρῲ γάρ, εἰπεῖν, πρὶν γυμνασθῆναι, ὦ Σώκρατες, ὁρίζεσθαι ἐπιχειρεῖς καλόν τέ τι καὶ δίκαιον καὶ ἀγαθὸν καὶ ἓν ἕκαστον τῶν εἰδῶν... καλὴ μὲν οὖν καὶ θεία, εὖ ἴσθι, ἡ ὁρμὴ ἣν ὁρμᾷς ἐπὶ τοὺς λόγους: ἕλκυσον δὲ σαυτὸν καὶ γύμνασαι μᾶλλον διὰ τῆς δοκούσης ἀχρήστου εἶναι καὶ καλουμένης ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν ἀδολεσχίας, ἕως ἔτι νέος εἶ: εἰ δὲ μή, σὲ διαφεύξεται ἡ ἀλήθεια.τίς οὖν ὁ τρόπος, φάναι, ὦ Παρμενίδη, τῆς γυμνασίας; οὗτος, εἶπεν, ὅνπερ ἤκουσας Ζήνωνος (the indirect proof of an assumption by development of its consequences), χρὴ δὲ καὶ τόδε ἔτι πρὸς τούτῳ ποιεῖν, μὴ μόνον εἰ ἔστιν ἕκαστον ὑποτιθέμενον σκοπεῖν τὰ συμβαίνοντα ἐκ τῆς ὑποθέσεως, ἀλλὰ καὶ εἰ μὴ ἔστι τὸ αὐτὸ τοῦτο ὑποτίθεσθαι, εἰ βούλει μᾶλλον γυμνασθῆναι. And of this the whole of the second part of the Parmenides gives a detailed illustration. Cf. Phaedo 101 D: εἰ δέ τις αὐτῆς τῆς ὑποθέσεως ἔχοιτο, χαίρειν ἐῴης ἂν καὶ οὐκ ἀποκρίναιο ἕως ἂν τὰ ἀπ᾽ ἐκείνης ὁρμηθέντα σκέψαιο εἴ σοι ἀλλήλοις συμφωνεῖ ἢ διαφωνεῖ: ἐπειδὴ δὲ ἐκείνης αὐτῆς δέοι σε διδόναι λόγον, ὡσαύτως ἂν διδοίης, ἄλλην αὖ ὑπόθεσιν ὑποθέμενος ἥτις τῶν ἄνωθεν βελτίστη φαίνοιτο, ἕως ἐπί τι ἱκανὸν ἔλθοις, ἅμα δὲ οὐκ ἂν φύροιο ὥσπερ οἱ ἀντιλογικοὶ περί τε τῆς ἀρχῆς διαλεγόμενος καὶ τῶν ἐξ ἐκείνης ὡρμημένων, εἴπερ βούλοιό τι τῶν ὄντων εὑρεῖν. (P. 100 A, treats not of the proof of the principles, but their application to particulars.) Meno, 86 E: συγχώρησον ἐξ ὑποθέσεως αὐτὸ σκοπεῖσθαι ... λέγω δὲ τὸ ἐξ ὑποθέσεως ὧδε, ὥσπερ οἱ γεωμέτραι πολλάκις σκοποῦνται ... εἰ μέν ἐστιν τοῦτο τὸ χωρίον τοιοῦτον οἷον παρὰ τὴν δοθεῖσαν αὐτοῦ γραμμὴν παρατείναντα ἐλλείπειν τοιούτῳ χωρίῳ οἷον ἂν αὐτὸ τὸ παρατεταμένον ᾖ, ἄλλο τι συμβαίνειν μοι δοκεῖ, καὶ ἄλλο αὖ, εἰ ἀδύνατόν ἐστιν ταῦτα παθεῖν. Cf. Republic vii. 534 B sq. There is only one apparent contradiction in the Cratylus 436 C sq., where the remark μέγιστον δέ σοι ἔστω τεκμήριον ὅτι οὐκ ἔσφαλται τῆς ἀληθείας ὁ τιθέμενος: οὐ γὰρ ἄν ποτε οὕτω σύμφωνα ἦν αὐτῷ ἅπαντα is met by the answer: ἀλλὰ τοῦτο μέν, ὠγαθὲ Κρατύλε, οὐδέν ἐστιν ἀπολόγημα. εἰ γὰρ τὸ πρῶτον σφαλεὶς ὁ τιθέμενος τἆλλα ἤδη πρὸς τοῦτ᾽ ἐβιάζετο καὶ αὑτῷ συμφωνεῖν ἠνάγκαζεν, οὐδὲν ἄτοπον, ὥσπερ τῶν διαγραμμάτων ἐνίοτε τοῦ πρώτου σμικροῦ καὶ ἀδήλου ψεύδους γενομένου, τὰ λοιπὰ πάμπολλα ἤδη ὄντα ἑπόμενα ὁμολογεῖν ἀλλήλοις. δεῖ δὴ περὶ τῆς ἀρχῆς παντὸς πράγματος παντὶ ἀνδρὶ τὸν πολὺν λόγον εἶναι καὶ τὴν πολλὴν σκέψιν εἴτε ὀρθῶς εἴτε μὴ ὑπόκειται: ἐκείνης δὲ ἐξετασθείσης ἱκανῶς, τὰ λοιπὰ φαίνεσθαι ἐκείνῃ ἑπόμενα:for it is afterwards shown that Cratylus’ one-sided supposition becomes involved in contradictions in its consequence — because the ἀρχὴ has no real proof.

86^ This he shows by the introduction and investiture of the Parmenides: the whole procedure of the dialogue reminds one forcibly of Zeno’s method. Cf. vol. i. 494-496 sqq.

87^ Brandis (Gr.-rom. Phil. ii. a. 264) calls this ἐξ ὑποθέσεως σκοπεῖν a higher process of dialectic completing Division. He has generally brought out this side of Plato’s dialectic acutely and correctly; but I cannot agree with him here. The object is not to find a corrective for Division, but to determine the truth of the ὑποθέσεως, i.e. the right mental grasp of the Concepts on which an enquiry proceeds: and this is exemplified in the Meno, the Parmenides, and the Protagoras before them, 329 C sqq. And again, this ἐξ ὑποθέσεως σκοπεῖν seems to me not to be essentially separate from the elements of Dialectic above mentioned (formation of Concepts, and Division), but to belong to the former of them, as the critico-dialectical test of rightly applied Induction. I cannot either agree with Heyder (Comparison of Aristotelian and Hegelian Dialectic, i. 99 sqq.-113 sqq.) in thinking that the hypothetic-dialectic process aims not so much at the introduction and verification of means whereby Concepts in themselves are explained or limited, as at the introduction and verification of certain Combinations of Concepts. Apart from what I have observed (note 70), this view will not agree with Plato’s own explanations, that throughout, the object of this process is only to test the ὑποθέσεως, the correctness of the leading Concepts. Heyder cannot quote Aristotle Metaphysics xiii. 4, 1078 b. 25 on his side, and with as little reason can he appeal to the procedure of Plato’s Parmenides, which is expressly concerned with investigating the Concepts of Unity and Being.

88^ Phaedrus 265 E (v.p. 199?); Politicus 285 A: διὰ δὲ τὸ μὴ κατ᾽ εἴδη συνειθίσθαι σκοπεῖν διαιρουμένους ταῦτά τε τοσοῦτον διαφέροντα συμβάλλουσιν εὐθὺς εἰς ταὐτὸν ὅμοια νομίσαντες, καὶ τοὐναντίον αὖ τούτου δρῶσιν ἕτερα οὐ κατὰ μέρη διαιροῦντες, δέον, ὅταν μὲν τὴν τῶν πολλῶν τις πρότερον αἴσθηται κοινωνίαν, μὴ προαφίστασθαι πρὶν ἂν ἐν αὐτῇ τὰς διαφορὰς ἴδῃ πάσας ὁπόσαιπερ ἐν εἴδεσι κεῖνται, τὰς δὲ αὖ παντοδαπὰς ἀνομοιότητας, ὅταν ἐν πλήθεσιν ὀφθῶσιν, μὴ δυνατὸν εἶναι δυσωπούμενον παύεσθαι πρὶν ἂν σύμπαντα τὰ οἰκεῖα ἐντὸς μιᾶς ὁμοιότητος ἕρξας γένους τινὸς οὐσίᾳ περιβάληται.

89^ This is the τέμνειν κατ’ ἄρθρα so often insisted on by Plato: Phaedrus loc. cit. Ibid. 273 E: κατ᾽ εἴδη τε διαιρεῖσθαι τὰ ὄντα καὶ μιᾷ ἰδέᾳ δυνατὸς ᾖ καθ᾽ ἓν ἕκαστον περιλαμβάνειν. 277 B: καθ᾽ αὐτό τε πᾶν ὁρίζεσθαι δυνατὸς γένηται, ὁρισάμενός τε πάλιν κατ᾽ εἴδη μέχρι τοῦ ἀτμήτου τέμνειν. Politicus 287 C: κατὰ μέλη τοίνυν αὐτὰς οἷον ἱερεῖον διαιρώμεθα. Republic v. 454 A: the main reason of Eristic error is τὸ μὴ δύνασθαι κατ᾽ εἴδη διαιρούμενοι τὸ λεγόμενον ἐπισκοπεῖν, ἀλλὰ κατ᾽ αὐτὸ τὸ ὄνομα διώκειν τοῦ λεχθέντος τὴν ἐναντίωσιν. Cf. note 92.

90^ Politicus 262 A: μὴ σμικρὸν μόριον ἓν πρὸς μεγάλα καὶ πολλὰ ἀφαιρῶμεν, μηδὲ εἴδους χωρίς: ἀλλὰ τὸ μέρος ἅμα εἶδος ἐχέτω.

91^ Cf. foregoing note and Politicus 263 A sqq.: γένος καὶ μέρος ἐναργέστερον γνοίη, ὡς οὐ ταὐτόν ἐστον ἀλλ᾽ ἕτερον ἀλλήλοιν ... εἶδός τε καὶ μέρος ἕτερον ἀλλήλων εἶναι ... ὡς εἶδος μὲν ὅταν ᾖ του, καὶ μέρος αὐτὸ ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι τοῦ πράγματος ὅτουπερ ἂν εἶδος λέγηται: μέρος δὲ εἶδος οὐδεμία ἀνάγκη. We get a hint of this distinction in the Protagoras 329 D, in the question (anticipating Aristotle’s distinction of ὁμοιομερὲς and ἀνομοιομερὲς) whether the alleged parts of virtue arc as distinct as the parts of the face (nose and mouth, for instance), or only ὥσπερ τὰ τοῦ χρυσοῦ μόρια οὐδὲν διαφέρει τὰ ἕτερα τῶν ἑτέρων, ἀλλήλων καὶ τοῦ ὅλου, ἀλλ᾽ ἢ μεγέθει καὶ σμικρότητι.

92^ Philebus 16 C: it is one of the most important discoveries, a true fire of Prometheus for science, ὡς ἐξ ἑνὸς μὲν καὶ πολλῶν ὄντων τῶν ἀεὶ λεγομένων εἶναι, πέρας δὲ καὶ ἀπειρίαν ἐν αὑτοῖς σύμφυτον ἐχόντων. δεῖν οὖν ἡμᾶς τούτων οὕτω διακεκοσμημένων ἀεὶ μίαν ἰδέαν περὶ παντὸς ἑκάστοτε θεμένους ζητεῖν — εὑρήσειν γὰρ ἐνοῦσαν — ἐὰν οὖν μεταλάβωμεν, μετὰ μίαν δύο, εἴ πως εἰσί, σκοπεῖν, εἰ δὲ μή, τρεῖς ἤ τινα ἄλλον ἀριθμόν, καὶ τῶν ἓν ἐκείνων ἕκαστον (we should either read κ. τῶν ἐν ἐκείνῳ ἕκ with Stallbaum, ad loc., or καὶ ἓν ἐκείνων ἕκαστον) πάλιν ὡσαύτως, μέχριπερ ἂν τὸ κατ᾽ ἀρχὰς ἓν μὴ ὅτι ἓν καὶ πολλὰ καὶ ἄπειρά ἐστι μόνον ἴδῃ τις, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὁπόσα: τὴν δὲ τοῦ ἀπείρου ἰδέαν πρὸς τὸ πλῆθος μὴ προσφέρειν πρὶν ἄν τις τὸν ἀριθμὸν αὐτοῦ πάντα κατίδῃ τὸν μεταξὺ τοῦ ἀπείρου τε καὶ τοῦ ἑνός, τότε δ᾽ ἤδη τὸ ἓν ἕκαστον τῶν πάντων εἰς τὸ ἄπειρον μεθέντα χαίρειν ἐᾶν. This is revealed of the gods: οἱ δὲ νῦν τῶν ἀνθρώπων σοφοὶ ἓν μέν, ὅπως ἂν τύχωσι, καὶ πολλὰ θᾶττον καὶ βραδύτερον ποιοῦσι τοῦ δέοντος, μετὰ δὲ τὸ ἓν ἄπειρα εὐθύς, τὰ δὲ μέσα αὐτοὺς ἐκφεύγει — οἷς διακεχώρισται τό τε διαλεκτικῶς πάλιν καὶ τὸ ἐριστικῶς ἡμᾶς ποιεῖσθαι πρὸς ἀλλήλους τοὺς λόγους. (with the latter of. ibid. 15 D; Phaedrus 261 D; Republic vii. 539 B). Schaarschmidt, Samml. d. plat. Schr. 298 sq., tries to show in this place a misunderstanding of Aristotle’s statements as to the elements of the Ideas, and a consequent proof of the spuriousness of the Philebus. It has been, however, already pointed out (p. 398 sq.) that Aristotle used the Philebus as a work of Plato’s; and Schaarschmidt’s object; on really rests on an incorrect interpretation of the passage before us. We have not to do here with the question as to the final metaphysical elements of things (still less, as Schaarschmidt says, with those of material things as such, but simply with the logical perception that in all Being there is unity and multiplicity, so far as on one side every class of existent may be reduced to one generic concept, and on the other every generic concept is brought before us in a multiplicity of individuals. This multiplicity is not merely an unlimited multiplicity (ἄπειρος), but also a limited, in so far as the generic concept resolves itself, not directly into an indeterminate number of individuals, but into a determinate number of species and subordinate species in succession: the indeterminate manifold of individuals, susceptible of no further articulation, only begins with the lowest limit of this conceptual division. I fail to see anything un-Platonic in this.

93^ Politicus 262 B (cf. 264 A): a more hasty procedure has something wrong about it; ἀλλὰ γάρ, ὦ φίλε, λεπτουργεῖν (to go immediately into details) οὐκ ἀσφαλές, διὰ μέσων δὲ ἀσφαλέστερον ἰέναι τέμνοντας, καὶ μᾶλλον ἰδέαις ἄν τις προστυγχάνοι. τοῦτο δὲ διαφέρει τὸ πᾶν πρὸς τὰς ζητήσεις. An example of this faulty procedure is when given in the division of mankind into Hellenes and Barbarians, in which one step is taken from the most universal to the most particular, and the mistake is made of treating the infinitely various races of non-Greeks as one race.

94^ 94 V. supr. notes 92 and 72. Plato has no fixed phrase for the division of Genus and Species expressed in this and the related passages: γένος (which is not frequent) and εἶος are equivalents with him (e.g. Sophist 253 D; Politicus 262 D sq.; 263 A; vid. supr. note 91), and in Timaeus 57 C sq. he absolutely uses the former = species, the latter = genus: τἀν τοῖς εἴδεσι γένη.

95^ κατὰ πλάτος and κατὰ μῆκος τέμνειν. Sophist 266 A.

96^ Philebus loc cit.; Politicus 287 C: κατὰ μέλη τοίνυν αὐτὰς οἷον ἱερεῖον διαιρώμεθα, ἐπειδὴ δίχα ἀδυνατοῦμεν. δεῖ γὰρ εἰς τὸν ἐγγύτατα ὅτι μάλιστα τέμνειν ἀριθμὸν ἀεί. The Sophist (218 D-231 E-235 B sq.; 264 C sqq.) gives elaborate instances of dichotomy carried out in detail; cf. Politicus 258 B-267 C, 279 C sqq.

97^ E.g. Phaedo 100 A; Laws v. 746 C.

98^ Republic iv. 436 B: δῆλον ὅτι ταὐτὸν τἀναντία ποιεῖν ἢ πάσχειν κατὰ ταὐτόν γε καὶ πρὸς ταὐτὸν οὐκ ἐθελήσει ἅμα, ὥστε ἄν που εὑρίσκωμεν ἐν αὐτοῖς ταῦτα γιγνόμενα, εἰσόμεθα ὅτι οὐ ταὐτὸν ἦν ἀλλὰ πλείω. Phaedo 162 D; 103 C; Theaetetus 190 B. In the world of phenomena, opposite properties are seen combined in one subject: but, according to Plato, as will be shown presently, these properties do not belong to the things simultaneously: they: are detached in the flux of Becoming: and the subjects themselves are not simple but composite substances; so the properties are not, strictly speaking, found together in One and the Same. Cf. Republic loc. cit.; Phaedo 102 D sqq.; Parmenides 128 E sqq.; Sophist 258 E sqq.

99^ Sophist 230 B; Republic x. 602 E.

100^ Cf. p. 174 and Timaeus 28 A.

101^ Tennemann, Syst. d. plat. Phil. ii. 217 sqq.; Brandis, ii. a. 266 sq.

102^ Sophist 259 E: if the combination of concepts is denied (as by Antisthenes), the possibility of discourse is taken away: διὰ γὰρ τὴν ἀλλήλων τῶν εἰδῶν συμπλοκὴν ὁ λόγος γέγονεν ἡμῖν. Ibid. 26 B: mere ὀνόματα, like Lion, Goat, Horse, and mere verbs like βαδίζει, τρέχει, καθεύδει, give no continued meaning: this is only given by the combination of the ὄνομα denoting an οὐσία with the ῥῆμα, expressing a doing or not doing.

103^ Theaetetus 189 E: τὸ δὲ διανοεῖσθαι ἆρ’ ὅπερ ἐγὼ καλεῖς … Λόγον ὃν αὐτὴ πρὸς αὑτὴν ἡ ψυχὴ διεξέρχεται … αὐτὴ 190 ἑαυτὴν ἐρωτῶσα καὶ ἀποκρινομένη, καὶ φάσκουσα καὶ οὐ φάσκουσα. So Sophist 263 E (v. supr. p. 158, 17), and immediately, τὸ δὲ διανοεῖσθαι ἆρ᾽ ὅπερ ἐγὼ καλεῖς … λόγον ὃν αὐτὴ πρὸς αὑτὴν ἡ ψυχὴ διεξέρχεται … αὐτὴ ἑαυτὴν ἐρωτῶσα καὶ ἀποκρινομένη, καὶ φάσκουσα καὶ οὐ φάσκουσα — opinion (δόξα) is therefore an affirmation or denial without discourse.

104^ E. g. the passages quoted p. 174 12; cf. Politicus 280 A; Cratylus 412 A; Philebus 11 B.

105^ Aristotle speaks clearly as to the difference of the two methods, Anal. Prior, i. 31; Anal. Post. ii. 5. He calls Division οἷον ἀσθενὴς συλλογισμὸς, and points out that its defect lies in the minor being assumed without demonstration (e.g. ἄνθρωπος ζῷον, ἄνθρωπος πεζόν). He is therefore enabled to say (Soph. Elench. 34, 183 b. 34), without disparagement of Plato’s Division, that the subjects treated of in the Topics (among which the Conclusion stands in the first series — here the Conclusion of Probability—) have never before received any scientific discussion.

106^ Tennemann makes this mistake, loc. cit. pp. 214-259: though he observes correctly enough that we must not (as Engel does in his Enquiry into a method of developing the Logic of Plato’s Dialogues) lay down, in an exposition of his logic, all the rules actually followed by Plato. Prantl’s procedure (Gesch. d. Log. i. 59 sqq.) is much more accurate.

107^ Cf. on what follows Classen, De Gramm. Gr. Primordiis (Bonn, 1829), p. 15 sqq.; Lersch, Sprach-philos. der Alten, i. 10 sqq.; ii. 4 sqq.; Steinhart, Pl. WW. ii. 535 sq.; Steinthal, Gesch. d. Sprach-wissensch. bei Gr. u. Röm. 72 sqq.

108^ We cannot, however, point out any really scientific enunciation of his on speech (cf. vol. i. 588, 2), and even Schuster (Heracl. 318 sq.) does not appear to have made much of this point. Even if Heraclitus did say that speech was given to men by the gods, or remarked incidentally that the very name shows the Being of the thing (both of which are possible), this would not warrant our ascribing to him a definite theory of speech. Still less can any such thing be sought for in Pythagoras or his school: cf. loc. cit. 410, 1.

109^ Cf. the instances quoted by Lersch, iii. 3 sqq. from poets.

110^ Cf. vol. i. 932 sq.

111^ V. loc. cit. 913 sq.: cf. p. 903.

112^ Cf. vol. i. 745, 1: and Diog. ix. 48, who names some of Democritus writings on verbal expression.

113^ Cratylus 383 A; 428 E sqq.; 435 D; 438 C; 439 A; 440 C; Lersch, i. 30; and Lassalle, Heracl. ii. 394; compare Hippocrates de Arte, ii. b. i. 7 K: τὰ μὲν γὰρ ὀνόματα φύσιος νομοθετήματα ἐςτι. But we cannot draw any inference from this as to Heraclitus’ doctrines: as Steinthal, loc. cit. 90, remarks, Hippocrates continues, τὰ δὲ εἴδεα οὐ νομοθετήματα ἀλλὰ βλαστήματα; he knows the doctrine of Ideas, and, with Plato (v. subt, p. 213), attaches greater importance to the knowledge of concepts than the knowledge of names. We have no right to derive what he says on the latter from Heraclitus, especially with the Cratylus as a much more obvious source for him to draw on.

114^ Cratylus 412 C sqq. Plato here says that the name of the δίκαιον is thus explained by the supporters of an universal flux in things; there is a something which pervades the flux, and ἐπιτροπεύει τὰ ἄλλα πάντα διαϊόν; and the name Δία is connected with this. If we enquire what this is, one answer will be, the Sun; another Fire; a third, not Fire itself, but τὸ θερμὸν τὸ ἐν τῷ πυρὶ ἐνόν: while a fourth, ridiculing them all, will make the δίκαιον equivalent to Anaxagoras’ νοῦς. Cf. Pt. i. 804, 1. Plato seems to have some definite treatise in view which brought all these etymologies together; for Hermogones says, 413 D, φαίνῃ μοι, ὦ Σώκρατες, ταῦτα μὲν ἀκηκοέναι του καὶ οὐκ αὐτοσχεδιάζειν. ["I think, Socrates, you must have heard this from someone and are not inventing it yourself."]

115^ Cf. part i. p. 250, 7.

116^ V. supr. p. 158, 17; and note 103 of this chapter.

117^ Cf. on the interpretation of this dialogue Schleiermacher, Pl. W. ii. 2, 1 sqq.; Brandis, ii. A 284 sqq.; Steinhart, Pl. W. ii. 543 sqq.; and specially Deuschle, Die Plat. Sprachphil. (Marb. 1852), who is followed almost throughout by Susemihl, Genet. Entw. 144 sqq.

118^ V. 385 E-390 A.

119^ 422 C-424 A; 430 A, E.

120^ Motion, e.g. by R; smoothness by L; size by A, etc. pp. 424 A-427 D.

121^ 428 D-433 B; 436 B-D.

122^ 434 C sq.

123^ We get a parody of the Heraclitic style in the purposely exaggerated and extravagant etymologies which are accumulated and pushed to the absurdest lengths in 391 D-421 E, and 426 C.

124^ 436 E-437 D.

125^ 434 E-435 C.

126^ 435 D-436 B; 438 C sq.

127^ 437 E sqq.

128^ 439 A sq.; 440 C sq.

129 ^ 389 A-390 E.

130^ Deuschle, loc. cit. pp. 8-20, points out all that is strictly grammatical in Plato, besides these philological discussions: some points are borrowed from his predecessors, others are Plato’s own. Among them are the distinction of ὄνομα. and ῥῆμα (Sophist 259 E; 261 E sqq.: v. supr. note 102; Theaet. 206 D; Cratylus 399 B; 425 A; 431 B, and passim: cf. Eudemus ap. Simpl. Phys. 21 b. Deuschle points out that the ῥῆμα is not merely the verb in the sense of Time, but every denotation of the predicate; loc. cit. p. 8 sq.: so Classen, loc. cit. p. 45 sq.): the concept of ἐπωνυμία. (Parmenides 131 A; Phaedo 103 B, et saepius); the division of the letters into Vowels, Semivowels, and Mutes (Philebus 18 B sq.; Cratylus 424 C; cf. Theaetetus 203 B); Number (Sophist 237 E); Tenses of the Verb (Parmenides 151 E-155 D; 141 D, alibi); Active and Passive (Sophist 219 B; Philebus 26 E).

131^ V. supra, 193 sq.

132^ Republic ii. 376 E sqq., and specially iii. 410 B sqq.; cf. Timaeus 87 C sqq.

133^ ἵνα ὥσπερ ἐν ὑγιεινῷ τόπῳ οἰκοῦντες οἱ νέοι ἀπὸ παντὸς ὠφελῶνται, ὁπόθεν ἂν αὐτοῖς ἀπὸ τῶν καλῶν ἔργων ἢ πρὸς ὄψιν ἢ πρὸς ἀκοήν τι προσβάλῃ, ὥσπερ αὔρα φέρουσα ἀπὸ χρηστῶν τόπων ὑγίειαν, καὶ εὐθὺς ἐκ παίδων λανθάνῃ εἰς ὁμοιότητά τε καὶ φιλίαν καὶ συμφωνίαν τῷ καλῷ λόγῳ ἄγουσα. Republic iii. 401 C.

134^ Republic 402 D sqq.; 403 C: δεῖ δέ που τελευτᾶν τὰ μουσικὰ εἰς τὰ τοῦ καλοῦ ἐρωτικά.

135^ Cf. note 133; Republic iii. 402 A; vii. 522 (musical education is ἔθεσι παιδεύουσα … οὐκ ἐπιστήμην, παραδιδοῦσα … μάθημα οὐδὲν ἦν ἐν αὐτῇ).

136^ Cf. Symposium 202 A, and supra, p. 175 sq.

137^ Republic vi. 504 E sqq.; vii. 514 A-519 B; cf. Thet. 173 C sq.; 175 B sq.

138^ Republic vi. 510 B sq.; vii. 523 A-533 E; and Symposium 210 C sq.; 211 C.

139^ Republic vii. 525 B sqq.; 527 A; 529, 531 B; Phileb. 56 D sq. (v. subt. note 158), 62 A; cf. Timaeus 91 D; Phaedo, 100 B sqq. On Plato as a mathematician, v. my Pl. St. 357.

140^ V. notes 72 and 159.

141^ V. supra, p. 69 sq. and Symposium 209 E sq.; where the contemplation of the pure Idea is discussed as the completion of the Art of Love.

142^ Republic vii. 518 B: (δεῖ δή, ἡμᾶς νομίσαι) τὴν παιδείαν οὐχ οἵαν τινὲς ἐπαγγελλόμενοί φασιν εἶναι τοιαύτην καὶ εἶναι. φασὶ δέ που οὐκ ἐνούσης ἐν τῇ ... ψυχῇ ἐπιστήμης σφεῖς ἐντιθέναι, οἷον τυφλοῖς ὀφθαλμοῖς ὄψιν ἐντιθέντες. ὁ δέ γε νῦν λόγος, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, σημαίνει ταύτην τὴν ἐνοῦσαν ἑκάστου δύναμιν ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ καὶ τὸ ὄργανον ᾧ καταμανθάνει ἕκαστος, οἷον εἰ ὄμμα μὴ δυνατὸν ἦν ἄλλως ἢ σὺν ὅλῳ τῷ σώματι στρέφειν πρὸς τὸ φανὸν ἐκ τοῦ σκοτώδους, οὕτω σὺν ὅλῃ τῇ ψυχῇ ἐκ τοῦ γιγνομένου περιακτέον εἶναι, ἕως ἂν εἰς τὸ ὂν καὶ τοῦ ὄντος τὸ φανότατον δυνατὴ γένηται ἀνασχέσθαι θεωμένη: τοῦτο δ᾽ εἶναί φαμεν τἀγαθόν. ἦ γάρ;τούτου τοίνυν, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, αὐτοῦ τέχνη ἂν εἴη, τῆς περιαγωγῆς, τίνα τρόπον ὡς ῥᾷστά τε καὶ ἀνυσιμώτατα μεταστραφήσεται, οὐ τοῦ ἐμποιῆσαι αὐτῷ τὸ ὁρᾶν, ἀλλ᾽ ὡς ἔχοντι μὲν αὐτό, οὐκ ὀρθῶς δὲ τετραμμένῳ οὐδὲ βλέποντι οἷ ἔδει, τοῦτο διαμηχανήσασθαι. 533 C: ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, ἡ διαλεκτικὴ μέθοδος μόνη ταύτῃ πορεύεται, τὰς ὑποθέσεις ἀναιροῦσα, ἐπ᾽ αὐτὴν τὴν ἀρχὴν ἵνα βεβαιώσηται, καὶ τῷ ὄντι ἐν βορβόρῳ βαρβαρικῷ τινι τὸ τῆς ψυχῆς ὄμμα κατορωρυγμένον ἠρέμα ἕλκει καὶ ἀνάγει ἄνω, συνερίθοις καὶ συμπεριαγωγοῖς χρωμένη αἷς διήλθομεν τέχναις. Cf. ibid 514 A sq.; 517 B; Theaetetus 175 B sq.; Sophist 254 A.

143^ Science, according to Plato (as will be shown later on in the anthropology) is essentially nothing but reminiscence of the Idea; and Eros (cf. supra) is the same.

144^ 215 E sqq.; v. Part i. 153.

145^ Cf. supra, p. 191.

146^ Cf. Republic vii. 519 A sq.

147^ Aristotle, De Anima i. 2, 404 b. 22, thus gives Plato’s enumeration of the stages of theoretic consciousness: (Πλάτων) νοῦν μὲν τὸ ἓν, ἐπιστήμην δὲ τὰ δύο · μοναχῶς γὰρ ἐφ’ ἓν · τὸν δὲ τοῦ ἐπιπέδου ἀριθμὸν (triad) δόξαν, αἴσθησιν δὲ τὸν τοῦ στερεοῦ (four). For further details on the passage, v. chap. 7, note 103, and my Plat. St. 227 sq. So in the dialogues, Perception and Opinion, or Envisagement, are assigned to the unscientific consciousness, directed towards the phenomenal world (v. supra, p. 70 sq.); and the ἐπιστῆμαι are noticed (Symposium 210 C; Philebus 66 B; cf. Republic ix. 585 C) as the next preliminary stage of pure thought, or Dialectic: the highest stage is called νοῦς (Timaeus 51 D), and νοῦς καὶ φρόνησις (Philebus loc. cit.). In Symposium 210 C, 211 C, it appears as ἐπιστὴμη or μάθημα; but Plato draws a clear distinction between the one ἐπιστήμη, directed towards the pure Idea, and the other ἐπιστῆμαι, which are merely preparatory to it. The most exact correspondence with Aristotle’s exposition is found in the Timaeus, 37 B: δόξαι and πίστεις are there assigned to the Sensuous and Mutable (πίστις is used alone, 29 C), while νοῦς and ἐπιστήμη; (ἀλήθεια, 29 C) belong to the Intelligible and Immutable. Republic vi. 509 D sq.; vii. 533 E sq. is only a partial deviation from this: ἐπιστήμη there stands first (νοῦς or νόησις are equivalents), διάνοια second, πίστις third, εἰκασία fourth. The first two, dealing with the Invisible, are combined under the name of νόησις: the two others, dealing with the Visible, under the name of δόξα. Plato himself tells us that ἐπιστήμη here is the same as νοῦς elsewhere (as in Symposium loc. cit. and Phaedo 247 C). Διάνοια corresponds to the Aristotelian ἐπιστήμη, as is clearly shown by Republic 533 D; 510 B sqq.; 511 D sq. There is a confusion here between the division elsewhere given of Knowledge based on Opinion and another division, not so important from Plato’s point of view vide note 14. By διάνοια or ἐπιστήμη Plato means (as Brandis observes) exclusively mathematical science. This is expressly stated, Republic vi. 510 B sq.; 511 C sq., and is a natural consequence of his doctrines: mathematical laws are to him (vide subter) the sole mediating elements between Idea and Phenomenon; and therefore only a knowledge of these laws can mediate between Opinion or Envisagement and the science of the Idea. In enumerations like the above Plato allows himself considerable laxity, as may be seen from the Philebus, 66 B, besides the places already quoted. The terminology is a matter of indifference. Republic vii. 533 D.

148^ Phaedo 65 A-67 B; 67 D; Republic vii. 532 A.

149^ Republic vii. 514 sq.

150^ Timaeus 28 A; 51 D sq.; cf. supra, 174.

151^ Timaeus 47 A sq.

152^ Republic vi. 510 B sq.; vii. 533 C; cf. note 72, p. 215 sq.

153^ Phaedrus 250 D sq.; Symposium 210 A; Phaedo 75 A sq.

154^ V. supra, 174. On account of this connection, Right Opinion is actually set by the side of Knowledge and commended; e.g. Theatetus 202 D; Philebus 66 B; Republic ix. 585 C; Laws x. 896.

155^ Cf. p. 215 sq.

156^ As will be proved in the following sections.

157^ Confined, however, in Plato, as we have seen, to the mathematical branches.

158^ Republic vii. 525 B: the guardians are to be admonished, ἐπὶ λογιστικὴν ἰέναι καὶ ἀνθάπτεσθαι αὐτῆς μὴ ἰδιωτικῶς, ἀλλ᾽ ἕως ἂν ἐπὶ θέαν τῆς τῶν ἀριθμῶν φύσεως ἀφίκωνται τῇ νοήσει αὐτῇ: they are (525 D) no longer ὁρατὰ ἢ ἁπτὰ σώματα ἔχοντας ἀριθμοὺς προτεινστθαι, but τὸ ἓν οἷον ὑμεῖς ἀξιοῦτέ ἐστιν, ἴσον τε ἕκαστον πᾶν παντὶ καὶ οὐδὲ σμικρὸν διαφέρον, μόριόν τε ἔχον ἐν ἑαυτῷ οὐδέν. Astronomy rightly studied is to use the course of the stars (529 C sq.) only as an example τῶν δὲ ἀληθινῶν πολὺ ἐνδεῖν, ἃς τὸ ὂν τάχος καὶ ἡ οὖσα βραδυτὴς ἐν τῷ ἀληθινῷ ἀριθμῷ καὶ πᾶσι τοῖς ἀληθέσι σχήμασι φοράς τε πρὸς ἄλληλα φέρεται καὶ τὰ ἐνόντα φέρει. Phileb. 56 D: οἱ μὲν γάρ που μονάδας ἀνίσους καταριθμοῦνται τῶν περὶ ἀριθμόν, οἷον στρατόπεδα δύο καὶ βοῦς δύο καὶ δύο τὰ σμικρότατα ἢ καὶ τὰ πάντων μέγιστα: οἱ δ᾽ οὐκ ἄν ποτε αὐτοῖς συνακολουθήσειαν, εἰ μὴ μονάδα μονάδος ἑκάστης τῶν μυρίων μηδεμίαν ἄλλην ἄλλης διαφέρουσάν τις δήσει. – and the mathematical sciences thus treated are αἱ περὶ τὴν τῶν ὄντως φιλοσοφούντων ὁρμὴν. Ibid. 57 C. For further details, v. supra.

159^ Republic vii. 534 E: ἆρ᾽ οὖν δοκεῖ σοι, ἔφην ἐγώ, ὥσπερ θριγκὸς (coping stone) τοῖς μαθήμασιν ἡ διαλεκτικὴ ἡμῖν ἐπάνω. Ibid. 531 C: οἶμαι δέ γε, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, καὶ ἡ τούτων πάντων ὧν διεληλύθαμεν μέθοδος ἐὰν μὲν ἐπὶ τὴν ἀλλήλων κοινωνίαν ἀφίκηται καὶ συγγένειαν, καὶ συλλογισθῇ ταῦτα ᾗ ἐστὶν ἀλλήλοις οἰκεῖα, φέρειν τι αὐτῶν εἰς ἃ βουλόμεθα τὴν πραγματείαν καὶ οὐκ ἀνόνητα πονεῖσθαι, εἰ δὲ μή, ἀνόνητα. Cf. note 75. Ribbing’s idea that Plato here ‘identifies’ mathematics with Dialectic, is, I think, sufficiently disproved by foregoing remarks. Mathematics with him are only a preliminary to Dialectic, not Dialectic itself: they have to do with similar subjects number, magnitude, motion, etc. but are differentiated by the method of procedure.

160^ Vii 522 B: vi. 495 D.

161^ Symposium 209 A; Philebus 55 C sqq.: of, Ritter, Gesch. d. Phil. ii.

162^ Cf. Republic v. 473 B.

163^ 289 B; 291 B.

164^ 278 D: cf. Symposium 203 E: θεῶν οὐδεὶς φιλοσοφεῖ οὐδ᾽ ἐπιθυμεῖ σοφὸς γενέσθαι—ἔστι γάρ.

165^ Phaedo 66 B sqq.

166^ V. supra, pp. 192, 193.

167^ Republic vi. 500 E; vii. 517 B; Timaeus 28 C; Phaedrus 248 A.

Eduard G. Zeller, a German philosopher and Protestant theologian of the Tübingen School of theology, was well known for his writings on Ancient Greek philosophy. Although he published in the late 18th and early 19th Centuries, his meticulous research, documentation, and footnotes remain an unparalleled and valuable resource.


Zeller, Eduard. Plato and the Older Academy. Sarah Frances Alleyne, trans. and Alfred Goodwin, ed. New York and London, Longmans, Green & Co., 1876. This work is in the Public Domain.