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AUTHOR. 
 
 LANG. ANDREW 
 
 TITLE: 
 
 THE POLITICS OF 
 
 ARISTOTLE 
 
 PLACE: 
 
 LONDON 
 
 DATE: 
 
 1886 
 
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 Lang, Andrew, i:dl844-1912. 
 
 The politics of Aristotleth[microform] ;Tbintroductory essays, ^cby Andr 
 ew Lang, (from Bolland and Lang's Polities'. 
 260 London, ybLongmans, Green, and Co.,tcl886. 
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 AEISTOTLE'S POLITICS 
 
 5, 
 
PUIXTKD BY 
 
 SrOTTISWOODK AND CO., NKW^TIIEKT SQUaUK 
 
 LONDON 
 
 ( 
 
 m 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 HP. 
 
 «l 
 
 THE POLITICS OF AEI8T0TLE 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS 
 
 BY 
 
 ANDREW LANG 
 
 (From Bolland and Lang's 'Politics') 
 
 LONDON 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 
 
 1886 
 
 A U riqhif r^ffrvi/f 
 
 rr.- 
 

 R)' 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 -•o*- 
 
 E.Si--AY 
 
 I. The * Politics' of Aiustotlk .... 
 
 II. Aristotle's ConceptioiN of Political .Science 
 
 111. On some Leading Conceptions of Aristotle . 
 
 >W^. The Greek City-State 
 
 N^. Tyrannies in Greece 
 
 VI. Internal Causes of various Forms of the State 
 
 Vll. Theory op Revolutions 
 
 Tftl. International Relations of the Greek Cities 
 
 IX. Causes affecting the Personal Character of 
 
 the Citizens 
 
 X. Practical Aims of Aristotle . 
 
 XI. Slavery, Commerce, and the later Democracies 
 
 ^XII. Aristotle's Ideal State 
 X141. Land-Tenure in Greece 
 XIV. The Origin of Society . 
 
 PACK 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 8 
 16 
 
 25 
 
 32 
 
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 THE POLITICS OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 —o^ 
 
 I. 
 
 THE * politics' OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 The Politics of Aristotle have a double value : they 
 contain the first really scientific discussion of the 
 origin, the elements, the constitution, and the condi- 
 tions of human society, and they are a storehouse pf 
 information as to the facts of the history of Greece. It 
 is true that conscious reflection on the different shapes 
 and possible perfect form of the State, on its relations 
 to the Individual, and on its international rights and 
 duties, had been awake in Greece long before the age 
 of Aristotle. The great questions had been propounded 
 and discussed, the terminology had been almost fixed. 
 In the first place had arisen the early Lawgivers, Solon, 
 Charondas, Zaleucus, Philolaus — whom we may call the 
 Judges — and the early mystics, Pythagoras, Apollo's son, 
 Epimenides, the healer of souls, and Empedocles, who 
 were in a sense the Prophets of Hellas. The latter 
 possessed a secret of life, a certain method of conduct, 
 which they inculcated to disciples, who then formed 
 small communities within the cities of Sicily and Italy. 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 EARLY THEORISTS. 
 
 Yrom these mystics Aristotle received, tliroiigh tradi- 
 tion, many ideas, and, above all, the notion of the power 
 which the law<yiver has to direct the conduct of men to 
 a moral end. From the example of the great Spartan 
 lawgiver Lycurgus, whom the Delphian Pythoness knew 
 not whether to address as- God or as mortal, and from 
 the enduring influence which his system of almost 
 monastic discipline exercised on Sparta, Aristotle, like 
 other Greek writers on politics, drew the conclusion 
 that one man of impressive character, backed by the 
 influence of religion, might mould the characters of men 
 to a uniform type. Hence the recurrent idea of the 
 Lawgiver {yofioOsTqsi) who, with the help of the Delphian 
 oracle, is to fashion the spiiitual lives of the citizens 
 towards a given end. Again, the Lawgivers who appear 
 on the horizon of really historical times, such as Solon, 
 had codified and committed to writing the unwritten 
 customs and dooms of early Greece ; and the ideas fixed 
 in these customs and dooms, ideas dating from the time 
 when the Chieftain-Priest was a living oracle of law, 
 greatly coloured the political speculations of Aristotle. 
 
 After the actual legislators came the amateur 
 theorists, like Phaleas and Hippodamus, who seem to 
 have tried, in a fashion, to buttress the old traditional 
 notions of Greece, with the help of the new rational 
 doctrines, which we connect with tlie names of the 
 earlier sophists. 
 
 Still later appeared the wandering rhetoricians, dis- 
 turbing the repose of political custom, with arguments 
 drawn from abstract notions about Eight, Virtue, 
 ^Nature, Law, and so forth. These arguments were 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 ARISTOTLE AND HIS PREDECESSORS. 3 
 
 popularised by dramatists like Euripides, who made 
 his characters speculate on duty and morality on the 
 stao'e, and who did for the new democracies what 
 Pindar and Theognis had done for the ancestral aris- 
 tocracies — gave them poetic texts in support of their 
 ideas. Next Plato, in a variety of dialogues, had 
 sought after some permanent basis for morality, had 
 constructed an ideal state, had discussed almost every 
 difficulty which Aristotle handles, and one may almost 
 say had left, in beautiful scattered fragments, the 
 notions which Aristotle tries to arrange into a scien- 
 tific body of doctrine. Plato had amplified the 
 teaching of Socrates, and had helped out reason by 
 imagination, by rhetoric, and by the invention of 
 myths, which like the gods in the plays appear 
 whenever there is a nodus vindice d'lgnus, Xenophon 
 had discussed the constitution of Sparta with par- 
 tisan admiration, and had treated of the commercial 
 democracy of Athens, and pointed out the way to 
 make her more wealthy and indolent than ever, with 
 the irony of a man of high birth and education, a 
 soldier and a sportsman. Acquainted, as we may 
 believe, with all or most of these writings, and with 
 the political thought of Thucydides, and not un- 
 influenced by any of them, Aristotle went to work to 
 build up a philosophy of human society, which should 
 neither depend wholly on old traditional wisdom, 
 nor be a series of empirical maxims, a moyen de 
 pai^enir in politics, nor rest upon poetic imagina- 
 tion ; but should be founded on a collection of facts, 
 and on the teaching of historical experience. Quite 
 
 B 2 
 
4 HIS CONCEPTION OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 unlike Plato, he determined to discard no institution — 
 as the Family, and Property — which immemorial use 
 approved. He would introduce nothing new, nothing 
 which liad to be based on a myth, for he probably 
 perceived that myths had been invented to account for 
 institutions already sacred, and that no new custom 
 could be made sacred by being grounded on an equally 
 new myth. Thus he neither rejects anything dear to 
 men (dya7T7)T6v) from of old, nor brings in a new 
 ajaTrrjroi'. like the Enthusiasm of Humanity. 
 
 PLACE OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 5 
 
 II. 
 
 ARISTOTLE S CONCErTION OF POLITICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 Before entering on the study of Aristotle's scientific 
 philosophy of the State, it may be well to ask what he 
 meant by his science ; and further, whether he was 
 mistaken in thinking that a science of Politics is possible 
 at all. Now if by political science be understood a 
 knowledge of the general laws of human natiu'e, acting 
 in political associations, and of the effects of variable 
 causes, such as the influence of great men, sufficient to 
 enable the j^liilosopher to predict, and if he chooses to 
 alter the development of history, we may say that Aris- 
 totle did not consider this science possible, and did not 
 attempt to construct it. If he had made any such preten- 
 sions his own failure would be obvious. He lived in an 
 age of slavery, and far from foretelling a day when slavery 
 
 ' ■ ' 
 
 '/ 
 
 should fall into discredit and disuse, he gave it a place / 
 among the ' natnraV institutions of society, such asV 
 property and the flunily, and left it there. He lived ^ 
 in a country of small city states, and in a time when 
 the spirit of these states had departed, when their 
 liberty had well-nigh perished, and he proposed no 
 scheme of miion, and looked forward to no such fresh 
 order of things as the Eoman Empire, or the national 
 system of modern Europe, or even to such a federation 
 as the Achaean League. Such a new and striking 
 factor in politics as the beginning of the Macedonian 
 Empire seems to attract his attention indeed, but gets 
 no notice in detail. Again, although the military age^ 
 of Greece was practically past, he did his best to dis-l 
 courage industrial development, and left a stigma on' 
 commerce and on credit which still clino-s to them.' 
 What, then, did Aristotle mean by ?; ttoXltlk/] — political 
 science ? What was his idea of its scope, its aim, and 
 its method ? In the first place, lie gives this science 
 the loftiest rank in the hierarchy of sciences ; it is 77 
 KvpiwrdiT) Koi fxaXtara dp^^iTS/CTovLfCj],^ 
 
 Political science takes this lofty place, because the 
 matter which it deals with is the noblest. That matter is 
 the nature of Man, and of Man too in his highest rela- 
 tions, in the conditions within which alone he attains 
 his most perfect, his almost divine development, 
 namely, as the free citizen of a free state. The end of 
 this science is like that of all sciences — the attainment 
 of good, but of good in its brightest form, the form of 
 Justice.^ Now Justice here is only another name for the 
 
 » Ethics, i. 2, 5. 
 
 Pol. iii. 12, 1. 
 
 V 
 
.\ 
 
 6 STUDY OF FACTS. 
 
 common weal ; or, in other words, the end of political 
 science is to discover the conditions under which every 
 citizen will be able to secure the most free and perfect 
 development of himself, consistent with the good of the 
 State, without impediment in harmonious circumstances. 
 But as this ideal harmony of circumstances is not always 
 to be found, it is the practical duty of political science to 
 study the almost infinite diversity of existing circum- 
 stances, ' for there is not one sort of democracy or one 
 sort of oligarchy only,' and to suggest the adaptation 
 of institutions to facts which have come into existence 
 through different laws of historical necessity.^ Laws 
 must be made for states, not states for laws. Therefore 
 untiring study and collection of facts are necessary. The 
 natm*e of political science, and its scope, as conceived 
 of by Aristotle, are now apparent. It is the science 
 which observes man in the sum of his relations, as 
 \ historically exhibited in his institutions. It is a science 
 based on the collection of facts, and on the discrimina- 
 tion of countless shades and gradations in the evolution 
 of the various forms of government. And it is the 
 science which, having thus obtained a clear and critical 
 f conception of man's needs and powers, applies that 
 I conception to his institutions, and attempts to bring 
 I them into harmony with circumstances. Again, it is 
 V the science which constructs, as a type and example, a 
 model of the ideal state in which men miglit reach 
 perfection, if perfection could ever be reached by more 
 than an isolated person, here and there in the world. 
 Sometimes the brightness of this ideal conception blinds 
 
 3 Pol. iv. 1, 11. 
 
 
 'COMPAEATIVE POLITICS.' 7 
 
 Aristotle to the value of the ordinary civic life of 
 G-reece, and draws him away from realities. But 
 Aristotle always has history and historical development 
 present to his mind ; he has a fact for everv assertion : 
 he is keenly alive to the immense variety, the many 
 differences in institutions which come under the same 
 general name, such as Democracy, Liberty, Tyranny, 
 and so on. It is in his continual reference to history 
 and to fact that he is most instructive. His collection 
 of the constitutions of one hundred and fifty-eight 
 Greek states, and his researches into the customs of 
 barbarous tribes, with his habit of making these customs 
 throw light on the earlier institutions of Greece, give him 
 a place among students of what we now call Compara- 
 tive Politics. Aristotle is not satisfied witli saying, like 
 one of the characters in Plato's •• Eepublic,' that ' there 
 are reported to be many and absurd forms of govern- 
 ment among barbarians.' He notes the constitutional 
 kingship of the Molossi ; he remarks on an early Greek 
 custom like compurgation ; on the fact that the Greeks 
 used to buy their wives from each other; and he men- 
 tions some curious traits of savage manners.'* Thus 
 Aristotle studied political life in the spirit of modern 
 criticism, and he treated many modern problems in a 
 scientific fashion. .But his science has many precon- 
 ceptions and prejudices, his method many peculiarities, 
 his field of observation many necessary limits ; and all 
 these combine to make him seem remote, out of date, 
 and difficult of comprehension to modern readers. 
 It is therefore needful first to give an account of 
 * Eep. 544 ; Pol. v. 10, 8 ; vii. 2, 11 ; ii. 8, 20. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
^ 
 
 8 
 
 SOME PRECONCEPTIONS. 
 
 Aristotle's Method, and of his preconceptions, and then 
 to trace in history the development of the Greek City- 
 state to which his speculation is confined. 
 
 III. 
 
 ON SOME LEADING CONCErTIONS OF ARISTOTLE. 
 
 In reading the 'Politics' of Aristotle we meet with many 
 arguments which appear either to want force altogether, 
 or to depend for their force on some conception not 
 stated, or on some premise taken for granted as if it 
 were generally known and admitted by everyone. 
 There seems to be a store of ideas in the background, 
 which no one is expected to dispute, and which Aristotle 
 appeals to with confidence. When he has brought a 
 theory within the reach of one of these conceptions, 
 such as Nature, Measure, the End, Order, he is satisfied 
 that he has made his point. Some of these conceptions 
 are tolerably familiar to us, others less familiar, or even 
 strange ; some of them are parts of Aristotle's general 
 system, for it must never be forgotten that his ' Politics ' 
 is only one stone, a corner-stone, in a whole theory of 
 knowledge ; some, again, may be called Greek common- 
 places, notions that were parcels of the mind of Greece ; 
 and some are part of Aristotle's inheritance from the 
 older philosophers, such as Pythagoras and Anaxagoras. 
 Then there are processes of argument wliich do not 
 seem always convincing to us, especially the argument 
 from the analogy of the arts, with conclusions in the 
 
 V 
 
 ' I / 
 
 :metiiod. 9 
 
 sphere of politics. Again, there is a strong belief in 
 the power of the Legislators, to whom the Greeks 
 were wont to attribute such arrangements as the a-va- 
 acTLa, — the early distributions of land, and so on— 
 arrangements which we believe to have been produced 
 by circumstances, before the age of law, out of the 
 remains of tribal customs. Further, there is tlie 
 tendency in Aristotle wliich we may almost call mystic 
 — the tendency to look now to an ideal life of 
 political virtue, now to an ideal life of philosophic 
 contemplation, or to a blending of both, as the best 
 for individuals and for the State. Besides all this, there 
 is the obscurity arising from a method of arguing in 
 which cLTroplai^ or difficulties, are put forward, while the 
 question is not definitely settled, but is relegated to 
 some later portion of the ' Politics.' 
 
 On the whole, the method of Aristotle may be called 
 ^ajaal^ical, Avith a view to a later synthesis. He will exa- 
 3mne"t}re ultimate units, the elements of every compound 
 existence, before pronouncing on the nature of the whole 
 which the elements make up.^ In the ' Organon ' and 
 in the ' Ethics ' he has analysed the psychological and 
 moral elements in the nature of the Individual ; and 
 in the ' Politics ' he begins by examining the component 
 elements and the conditions of the State, as husband and f 
 wife, father and children, master and slave, owner and ) 
 property, citizens of this rank and citizens of that lower 
 grade, as differentiated by such natural causes as birth, 
 wealth, occupation. But all the time that he is analys- 
 ing, Aristotle has present to his mind some very dis- 
 
 ** Pol. i. 2, 1. 
 
 I 
 
10 
 
 NATUEE AND CONVENTION. 
 
 tinct ideas as to the nature of tlie whole, as to the 
 natural, unspoiled form of the State. These ideas are 
 the result of all sorts of factors, of aristocratic prejudice, 
 of traditional morality, and of a philosophic theory 
 about Nature, which it is necessary to understand. 
 
 Aristotle mentions among the devices of Sophists 
 the trick of ringing changes on the terms Nature, and 
 Law, or Conventional Institutions. The dialecticians 
 of Greece had discovered that ' the estimates of things 
 just and honourable, with which Political Science is con- 
 cerned, shift and vary so much, as to seem the result of 
 capricious enactment, rather tlian of Natiu-e.'^ In fact 
 the revolutionary thinkers of Greece laid much the same 
 stress on Nature (meaning thereby the presumedprimitive 
 freedom from all authority of law, reason, and custom) as 
 Rousseau did in his ' Discourses on the Origin of Inequa- 
 lity among Men.' This is a common sort of reaction 
 against a complicated civilisation, founded on religious 
 jTand traditional beliefs which men have ceased to believe 
 / in. Now the purpose of Aristotle was conservative, and 
 I thus it became his object to prove that the institutions 
 
 V^ I he wished to preserve were not the result of capricious 
 enactment, but were founded on Nature. But Aristotle's 
 way of imderstanding Nature is just the reverse of 
 Rousseau's way, except when it suits his purpose to shift 
 his groimd, as in the disquisition on money and trade. 
 Nature is identical with the fulfilment, and final cause 
 of all progress to an end (17 Ss (^vacs tsXos Kal ov £vsKa)J 
 Nature is matter fully fashioned and elaborated rather 
 than matter in the rough (^/xdWov avirj ^vais rrjs vXrjs). 
 • Ethics, i. 3, 2. ' Nat. Auscult. ii. 1, 10. 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 } 
 
 MEANING OF NATUEE. 
 
 11 
 
 * 1 * 
 
 ? 
 
 < I, ■» 
 
 \> 
 
 ( 
 
 Man in a state of Nature is Man as Nature would hav( 
 him to be, that is, as Aristotle would have him to be, 
 free warrior, statesman, and politician, at leisure, not a^ 
 savage, feeding on acorns. ' Nature seeks not only riglit 
 activity, but the power of living in noble leisure.' 
 Contrast this with Rousseau's State of Nature : 
 ' L'exemple des sauvages qu'on a presque tons trouves a 
 ce point, semble coniirmer que le genre humain etoit 
 fait pour y rester toujours . . . et que tous les progres 
 ulterieurs ont ete en apparence autant de pas vers la 
 perfection de I'individu, et en efFet, vers la decrepitude 
 de I'espece.' ® The contrast is particularly marked where 
 Rousseau denounces the man who invented property, 
 which Aristotle declares to be an institution suggested 
 by Nature and ' unspeakably sweet.* ^ 
 
 / In Aristotle's eyes, then. Nature is almost the un- 
 ' conscious action of the will of the world, bringing all 
 ! things into uniformity with limit and with right reason.! 
 The right reason of course is Aristotle's notion of what 
 ds best. Mr. Grote's way of stating the doctrine of 
 Nature makes the matter very clear, if we apply to 
 politics what is said of physics and metaphysics. 
 ' There are in the sublunary bodies ' (in which form is 
 implicated with matter) ' both constant tendencies and 
 variable tendencies. The constant Aristotle calls 
 " Nature," which always aspire to Good, or to the reno- 
 vation of Forms as perfect as may be, though impeded 
 in this work by adverse influences, and therefore never 
 producing anything but individuals comparatively 
 
 ** Discoiirs siir rorigiiie de I'inegalite parmi les homnies. 
 » Pol. ii. 5, 8. 
 
12 
 
 CONSTANT AND VARIABLE TENDENCIES. 
 
 / 
 
 defective, and sure to perish. The variable tendencies 
 he calls Spontaneity and Chance, always modifying, dis- 
 torting, frustrating the full purposes of Nature.' '^ 
 If we apply this doctrine to politics, we find that the 
 matter is human character, and human circumstance, 
 I which Nature fashions into the forms of the family and 
 Jrthe state. The constant tendencies in human character 
 / and circumstance make for good and for order. Such 
 ^ a tendency is that which keeps all things in due subor- 
 dination of ruler and subject, which sets father over 
 child, master over slave, old over young, reason over 
 passion, which makes tlie city wish to consist of equals, 
 whicli wlien one man or one family is undeniably 
 better than tlie rest, as gods are better tlian men, puts 
 kingly or aristocratic rule into their liands. Thus the 
 results of Nature's unchecked workings are tlie Family^ 
 with due subordination of woman, child, and slave ; 
 the Monarchy^ with due obedience to the one Grodlike 
 man, who alone contributes more to the stock of excel- 
 lence than all the others ; the Aristocracy^ where a few 
 are equally pre-eminent ; and the Polity^ where there 
 is a natural equality among the citizens. In all these 
 natural forms of rule government is exercised in the 
 interest of the natural whole, the State and citizens. 
 On the other side are variable tendencies, contrary to 
 Nature, which ruin the subordination of families, which 
 induce men to take money, a mere instriirnent, for tlie 
 end of their life, whicli work for the overthrow of 
 natural slavery, which drive the one best man or the 
 one best family out of the cities, which ^prevent the 
 
 " Grote, Aristotle, i. 165. 
 
 LIMIT. 
 
 13 
 
 I I <% 
 
 
 State from consisting of equals, which, in short, produce 
 these abnormal and unnatural distortions called tyran- 
 nies, democracies, Sind oligarchies, which govern in the 
 interest of an overgrown member of the whole. Thus 
 Nature is always being frustrated and defeated, and 
 from this point of view Aristotle's doctrine of the 
 decline of states is not so very far removed from the 
 scheme of Plato, with its fatal cycles of better and 
 worse. 
 
 Analogous to the idea of Nature in Aristotle is the 
 idea of the limit, to irspas, and of to irsirspaafjiivov, the 
 finite. Both these notions seem to be derived from the 
 Pythagorean catalogue of limit and limitless, odd and 
 even, one and many,»good and bad, male and female, 
 and the rest, which became a sort of accepted canon 
 with Greek thinkers. 
 
 Limit and the infinite are the elements out of which 
 the orderly and knowable world is made. The infinite 
 is all disorder, confusion, a blur of undistinguisliable 
 sensations, and in morals of masteiiess passions, till, by 
 the introduction of the limit, chaos is slowly made 
 orderly, and passions are formed into character. Apply- 
 ing, for instance, this conception to the question, is com- 
 merce a legitimate occupation ? Aristotle answers no, be- 
 cause ovhsv SoKsl TTspas slvaL irXovTOv kol Kii^asois, there 
 is no necessary limit to the acquisition of wealth.'^ Now 
 wealth is defined to be abundance of the instruments 
 necessary towards the independent life. These used 
 to be obtained by barter, and a man was satisfied 
 when he had enough of them, that sufficiency was the 
 
 » Pol. i. 9, 1. 
 
u 
 
 LIMIT AND THE END. 
 
 TTspas, But when money was invented, and it was 
 commonly held that wealth meant abundance of money, 
 .there was no natural irspas to the acquisition of coin, 
 dirsipos ^ ovTos 6 ttXovtos, But there is a deeper 
 reason than this for the fact that the endless acquisition 
 of wealth is unnatural. Desire of riches springs from 
 that character which thirsts insatiably for life, not for 
 the noble life, which seeks satisfaction in the chaotic 
 and infinite field of pleasure, without definite end, 
 not in striving after the limit and end of exist- 
 ence.^2 Here the limit (irspas), from another point 
 ( of view becomes identical with the end and aim of 
 life (the rsXos). This Tskos is the same for the State 
 and for the individual, namely, happiness. No concep- 
 tion is more constantly in Aristotle's mind than this of 
 the End. From all past experience and history he lias 
 ' arrived at a fixed and luminous idea of what Nature 
 would have, what all her workings tend to. This is not 
 the life of men wandering in nomadic hordes, nor of 
 men living as husbandmen in scattered villages, nor of 
 great servile nations. The free wild tribes of the North 
 have no central engrossing interest and bond of life ; the 
 peoples of Asia are gifted with intellect and art, but they 
 /are slavish. Hellas alone occupies the happy_mean, 
 jP alone offers to men in the city-state an object for noble 
 f action that must fill all their lives, and an environment 
 1 of free relationships in which to exercise virtue. The 
 IH State is the liTivU, beyond which Nature does not wish 
 \ to pass in the formation of political organisms. The 
 \ State in its perfection and the citizen in perfection are 
 
 >2 Pol. i. 9, 17 ; Plato, Laws, 714. 
 
 PRACTICAL AND IDEAL END. 
 
 philosophical contemplation ? ""* °^ 
 
 The consideration of the r^'Xo, thus brinsrs us to 
 what xs a standing difficulty in reading Aris tofle H^ 
 seems to hesitate whether to recommend a po bie S 
 cm ,,rt.e and activity, or an ideal life of con tem 
 
 ine saintly ]ife, the entrance into ' reliofon •' f j, ^ 
 corresponds to the knightly life o^ rMiddi: 1^ 
 
 ^iue reason, a momentary recoo-nitinn ^f ^ 
 
 which is treated in the book on \^e ZlsZl ^ 
 ^« here, then, that the mystic element appears amS the 
 
 Znr' ^^' ''-'"''^ activity ofl^or n 
 deed when we come to analyse his method, we find 
 thiee incongruous elements, really scientifin « ' 
 
 aristocratic prejudice, and the dil 'f TT^'' 
 
 Which ^^^^suu^f.^:!:^:^,^;^:^ ' 
 
 toi the eternal harmonies of Nature. 
 
16 
 
 THE CITY-STATE. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE GREEK CITY-STATE. 
 
 The political speculations of Aristotle are bounded by 
 the limits of the ttoXls, or City-state, which he looks 
 on as the ultimate and perfect form of society. ^^ It 
 does not seem to have occurred to him, who, in his 
 literary criticism, was ready to admit that the Drama 
 might advance in changed circumstances to new forms, 
 that human society also might come to be fixed on a 
 wider basis than the city — on the basis, namely, of the 
 nation. The political unit with which he concerned 
 himself, the town of perhaps ten or fifteen thousand 
 free citizens, supported by slave-labour, enjoying a life 
 of leisure and culture, self-ruled, and exercising all the 
 rights of a sovereign state, was the form of society 
 through which Greece attained her eminence in war, 
 and in the arts. It was therefore his business to under- 
 stand all the conditions which contributed to make up 
 the City-state, to point out the causes which in the 
 past had frustrated its development, and had sometimes 
 perverted it from being the home of noble life into the 
 seat of Tyranny, of Oligarchy, of Sedition, of the later 
 Democracy, ignoble in the eyes of Aristotle. The 
 ideal aim of the State was to give room and opportunity 
 for the full and free development of the best powers of 
 all its citizens ; that aim, as conceived of hj the phi- 
 losophers, had never been actually reached. Here, of 
 
 " Pol. i. 2, 8. 
 
 CITIES AND NATIONS. j- 
 
 course we touch the point where Aristotle's political 
 specu ation diverges from that of later times. Modern 
 thouglit is concerned with nations, that is with what 
 were ongmally |^.,, aggregates of tribes with no poli- 
 tical unity in the Greek sense. Various causes have 
 united the descendants of these tribes into the large asso- 
 cuit,ons which we call nations. The common possession 
 of conquered lands by a tribe of kin; the defeat of one 
 tribe by another, with the retention of its freedom 
 under the new over-lord ; the unity imposed by the 
 Church ; the dislike of city life ; the growth of kingly 
 power which could not well grow in a city; all these! 
 with other causes, have brouglit about a wider and loosei' 
 organisation than that of tlie city. But all Aristotle's 
 thought IS conditioned by the existence of the city 
 which had so powerful an attraction for the Greeks, and 
 which, within its narrow bounds, could actually school 
 them in morality, and in the spiritual life. To do this 
 IS, of course, beyond the power of a national government 
 and thus Aristotle's ideas are in a different plane from' 
 that occupied by modern speculation. 
 
 To understand the conditions under which the Citv- 
 s ate grew up, out of general laws which were everywhere 
 the same, and everywhere checked and diverted by vary- 
 ing causes, it is necessary to look back to the dawn of 
 Greek history. The State, as Aristotle knew it, was ' the 
 inevitable consequence of its antecedents in the past,' and 
 Aristotle himself enables us to trace a sketch of the e an- 
 tecedents. TheState(no.«)is ^.o0.5 r,..„,a Tal 
 
 an association of families and clans in a higher life for 
 
 c 
 
18 
 
 THE CLAN. 
 
 the sake of a perfect and self-sufficing existence.' ^^ It 
 is thus that Aristotle adds to the bare facts, the union 
 of villages, a moral interpretation. This union was not 
 without the will of Nature, which was leading men 
 towards the perfect life. His aim is to be a fellow- 
 worker with Nature, by pointing out the faults of 
 human character which retard the advance to perfection 
 in Nature's political school, the City. 
 
 When the tribes, which came in time to develop 
 Hellenic civilisation, were first settling in Hellas, when 
 they were invading the country from the North, or 
 landing in her ports from the East, they were not yet, 
 it may be said with some certainty, what Aristotle 
 would have considered actually political beings. They 
 lived in scattered villages Kara /^to/ias, and it may be 
 presumed that their society was based, not on the irokis 
 of course, but on the group, 7eVos, and on the family, 
 olKia. Their lands were probably held on a commimal 
 system— that is to say, if we may judge by analogy and 
 by traces of institutions, they were not the property of 
 individuals, but of village groups of men {^svr)\ united 
 by the belief in descent from a common ancestor, and 
 by the practice of certain religious sacrifices in common. 
 This is a primitive stage of society which is foimd to 
 have existed in most parts of the world— a stage in so- 
 ciety which takes no notice of the individual as such, 
 but merely of the group, or r^evos. It is the 'yivos which 
 is wronged if one of the group be slain or injured ; it is 
 the r^svos which inherits property, and is responsible for 
 the actions of each of the individuals within its circle. 
 
 «* Pol. iii. 9, 12. 
 
 I 
 
 THE 2TNorKI5l3. 
 
 19 
 
 This formed a stage in the development of the English 
 
 ace too, but the difference began when the Greeks 
 
 had once tasted of city life, which satisfied them so 
 
 t^^TZ^Tl T^'' ''^^'^ -ity was imposed on 
 the English before they came to care for city life To takp 
 
 anotl^r instance. It was the misfortuneofL Irish Celt 
 that they hved under the clan system, with only abo 
 tive attempts at a wider unity, till conquerors came 
 
 ex:st, n all its simplicity and vigour, as soon as several 
 7-7 deserted their villages, or at least removed the 
 shnne of their religions, and their place of meet no- to 
 jome central spot, where their nobler families b gat' to 
 dwell within the walls of a city, and on the c£t If 
 some commanding hill. This process of clustedn.. 
 together, and of combining several clans, with hek 
 religions, was called ...o.W,,, ^nd was g;nerally a 
 nbuted to the initiative of some primirive kW, or 
 hex-o, 01. demigod With the .„.<,.'..<,„ of villages! the 
 
 enough o be the scene of the perfect <...<,/„,<,,, of 
 many cities, into the great city of Athens. By the 
 process a new sort of life, a hia-her life tA .,', f- i 
 for the clansmen. Thei'r tribt;;::t' ^t'dtS 
 long dead, or their tribal fetich, was no longer theix 
 highes conception in religion. Their sacred clan 
 festivals still existed, but in subordination tothe lote 
 
 c 2 
 
f > 
 
 20 
 
 THE HIGHER LIFE. 
 
 and purer creed which became common to them all. The 
 members of the various clans, sons of .Eacus or of Eu- 
 molpus, recognised each other as kindred by an older 
 descent ; they were all ysvvrjTai WttoXXwvos irarpatov, 
 brothers together in Apollo, and Zeus of the household 
 guarded each man's home and enclosure.^^ Thus the 
 newer faith succeeded the old without a break in conti- 
 nuity ; it was still ancestor-worship, only of a father 
 more remote and powerful. With his cultus comes a 
 wider morality than that of the tribe. If a man is slain, 
 the slayer falls under the wrath of Apollo, and of the 
 State as well as of the clan. He cannot escape by paying 
 a blood-fine {ttolvtj, wer-gild, eric) to the clan or kindred 
 of his victim, or braving their vendetta. The Greeks 
 found, as the Basutos in Africa find to-day, tliat, 'if they 
 avenged themselves, the town would soon be dispersed.' ^^ 
 Thus a nobler religion, a wider and purer morality, 
 a more settled body of customary law, laid down by the 
 Chieftains of the old clans, to su ^rjv in fact, began with 
 the allegiance to the city. But it did not follow that, 
 l)ecause the State had become the ruling idea, and the 
 State-god the main religious conception, and because 
 the life of individuals was partly emancipated from the 
 solidarite of the clan, it did not follow that the clan 
 became extinct. It survived in a modified shape, and 
 was one of the most powerful factors in building the new 
 constitution, and the State as known to Aristotle. The 
 history of a Greek city is to a very great extent the history 
 
 »5 Plato, Luthydenuis, 802. Harpokration. 'Air6\\wv irarp^os b 
 TlvQios rhv 5e ' \itu Wojva Koivus irarpQov rifiuaiv 'Ad-iivaloi airh Uuos, 
 Toirov yhp olKiffavros rvu 'ArriK-fiv, u'S 'ApiaroT4\vs <pr}(ri, rovs ' AQnvaiovs 
 "Iwvas K\t]d7iva.i. koX 'AttoAAw -rrarpcfov avTo7s ovofxaadrivai. 
 
 ^ E. B. Tylor, Contcmj^orary Review, June 1873. 
 
 CHIEFS AND PEOPLE. 21 
 
 Of the struggle waged by tlie chief and most wealthy 
 families within the clan., the dwellers in the city in 
 whose veins the clan's blood ran purest, against the 
 body of the rustic clansmen, and probably against the 
 later immigrants, the broken men from other tribes, wlio 
 were attracted by every growing centre of settled life.^^ 
 TJie chiefs {^aaCkiKov r^ivos) claimed from old time 
 that power 'to make foul weather or fair,' which the 
 Brehon laws attributed to Irish chieftains.'^ They had 
 exclusive privileges, knew tlie law, or were inspired to 
 deliver it, and they alone could keep up that unbroken 
 practice of religious rites on whicli all the luck of 
 the community was believed to turn. The common 
 clansmen and the settlers were probably oppressed by 
 food-rents which they could scarcely pay, and were 
 threatened with loss of land. Naturally they longed 
 for some body of written law, for freedom and equaltty 
 and they were usually aided in the struggle by discon-' 
 tented members of the chief houses. 
 
 The order of these conflicts, out of which the State 
 was built up in its ultimate form, must have varied in 
 different places, but on the whole tended to some such 
 course as this. The earliest form of fixed government 
 which Greek history shows us, the form which we find 
 m Homer, is that of heroic monarchy. This monarchy 
 IS described by Aristotle as being hereditary and con- 
 stitutional. Xo problem in early history is so difficult 
 to solve as that of the origin of kingship.'^ Among 
 
 " Maine, Early History of Illsfi^ll^lVmo ,, iq.> t 
 Irish Trile-Laiuls. ^ institutions, p. 132. Immigrants on 
 
 .i^yJr'*"" '^^"' "'• ^■^"''- ^^^'''^'- ^'^- "»' "5' ^^^""» of 
 " Pol. iii. 14. Cf. Kemble, Saxons in England, vol. i.. and 
 
22 
 
 KINGS AND NOBLES. 
 
 most early peoples we find a certain stock or stocks, 
 which are held almost divine. They differ so much 
 from the common, that sometimes they are believed to 
 have immortal souls, while their subjects lack them, or 
 to transmigrate into nobler creatures after death. At 
 the least they descend from Gods, as the English stock 
 from Woden, or as Agamemnon from Zeus. Aristotle 
 conjectures that the founders of the monarchies had 
 been ' the first benefactors of the people in the arts of 
 peace or war, or had first collected them into a society, 
 or given them a territory to live in.' We only know 
 that the kings of Homer's time are represented as pos- 
 sessing some strain of nobler blood than their free 
 subjects, the chief of whom attend them in the council, 
 and whom they consult in the greater assembly of the 
 host. The kings are of the kin of Gods, BLoysvsss 
 ^aaiXrjzSy while most men are only hloi,, or noble. It 
 is not easy to understand the sort of nobility which was 
 so general in the Homeric world. We are reminded of 
 early Iceland, when ' nowhere was the common man so 
 uncommon,' and of the fleet with which Cnut invaded 
 England (1015), at least two hundred ships, and every 
 man in every crew a noble-man.^^ Both kings and 
 nobles were severed by an uncrossed line from ' churls 
 rock-born or oak-born,' diro Bpvo9 ?; aTro nrsTprjs^ but 
 either king or noble, if taken in war, might become a 
 thrall.2i 
 
 Freeman's Comparative Politics, Lecture lY. For the peculiarity of 
 royal souls, Callaway's Religion of the Amazula, ii. 197 : ' Chiefs turn 
 into the black and green Imamha, common people into the Umthlcoazi.' 
 
 20 Freeman's Norman Conquest, i. 373. 
 
 2' Odyss. xix. 162 ; Preller, Ausgewiihlte Aufsatze, p. 179. 
 
 i 
 
 FALL OF THE KINGS. 23 
 
 The heroic kingships, however they first arose 
 whether out of leadership in war or not, were usually 
 hereditary, and hereditary rights were exercised over 
 willing subjects, in accordance with traditional custom 
 The coronation oath was simply the laying hand on 
 sceptre. The privileges of the king were a rif^ivos far 
 larger than the common lot, leadership in war, and 
 probably many of the profits arising from fines, as well 
 as the gifts which Hesiod says the kings used to devour, 
 rewards for decisions in suits, and the chief seats at 
 teasts, and the best mess at sacrifices. The heroic mo- 
 narchy left to later Greece the institution of the Gene- 
 ral Assembly, and the germs of a council of elders 
 which might become probouleutic and administrative in' 
 an Oligarchy, or might be cut do\vn to a mere commit- 
 tee, with the task of preparing matter for the conside- 
 ration of the full Assembly, in a Democracy. (Pol. iv. 
 14, 14 ; vi. 8, 24. Gladstone, Homer, &c., iii. 58.) 
 
 'Kingship in a single city is not an institution 
 which ,s likely to last;' for, as Aristotle says, many 
 men would be found to be 'peers in valour and virtue ' 
 and there is no mystery in a small community to protect 
 the king. The members of the noble families would aim 
 at equality, and some such anarchy would result as that 
 which made confusion in the little isle of Ithaca before 
 the return of Odysseus. Power would fall into the 
 hands of all the noble houses in the clans, or into those 
 of some one house, like the Penthelids in Mitylene or 
 the Bacchiadffi of Corinth, or the Protiadse in Massilia 
 or the BasilidaB in Erythrse, who would cut down 
 the royal functions, and hand over the real sway in 
 
24 
 
 TYRANNY OF FAMILIES. 
 
 commission to their own kindred. The kingly title 
 might he left, hut the man who bore it would only keep 
 up the continuity of religious tradition, by performing 
 certain rites and sacrifices. An instance of such a 
 process has been noted among primitive peoples, our 
 own contemporaries. Among the natives of Tonga the 
 real ruling monarch yields precedence to a functionary 
 whose duties are purely priestly, though his title means 
 King of Toncja^'^ and w^hose position answers to that 
 of Archon Basileus at Athens. 
 
 The new form of government by a clan, or by 
 members of noble houses, when corrupted, is called a 
 hviacTzia by Aristotle.^^ It corresponds to the w^orst 
 sort of tyranny, or to the latest and most corrupt 
 democracy, in the fact that old customary law was 
 distorted to serve the selfish interests and passions of 
 the rulers. Yet the BvvaaTsla claimed the noble name 
 of 'Aristocracy,' the rule of the Best. The ruling class 
 called themselves 'the good and fair,' 'the famous,' 'the 
 illustrious.' They relied on long possession, on illus- 
 trious descent, on knowledge of the law, which was 
 hidden from the sheepskin wearers, dusty feet, club- 
 camers of the country, and, above all, on possession of 
 cavalry, which enabled them to ride down the dusty- 
 feet as easily as the chivalry of feudalism used to 
 crush the villeins.^^ Many causes contributed to the 
 overthrow of the hvvaaisia, or early oligarcliy of 
 ancient Greece. Trade increased, the seafaring popu- 
 
 '^ Sir John Lubbock, Origin of Civilisation, p. 347. 
 
 " Pol. V. 3, 3 ; Pol. iv. 5, 1. 
 
 2* Miiller, Dorians. Nicknames of Serfs, ii. 57- 
 
 THE TYEANT. 
 
 25 
 
 lation grew strong and rich, the strength of liglit 
 infantry began to be understood, the poorer land- 
 holders were oppressed with taxes and usury beyond 
 endurance, the Oligarchy conferred honours and power 
 within ever narrower limits, and the general discontent 
 took the form of a demand for a written code of law«. 
 ' When laws are written down, the rich man and the 
 weakling find equal justice,' says Euripides. Tliis was 
 ordinarily secured after a struggle in which some neg- 
 lected member of the higher class was frequently the 
 leader. The lower classes, 'who have neither law nor 
 equity,' as a poet of the aristocratic class wrote, suc- 
 ceeded in making their leader assymnete, as Pittacus 
 was in Mitylene, and looked to him as an irresponsible 
 magistrate to settle their differences with the nobles, 
 in a strife which went on till it was settled by the 
 giving of a code of laws, or, more frequently, silenced 
 by the rise of a tyrant. 
 
 V. 
 
 TYRANNIES IN GREECE. 
 
 These tyrannies, whether in Athens, under tlie Pisis- 
 tratidae, in Megara, in Corinth, or elsewhere, helped to 
 consolidate and shape into their ultimate form tlie city- 
 states of Greece. All classes, noble or non-noble, were 
 crushed under the same weight of reckless power. All 
 were offended by the license, so distasteful to Greek 
 ideas, which was permitted to women and to slaves ; 
 and the pride of the nobles was sometimes humbled by 
 
26 
 
 EISE OF TYKANTS. 
 
 such insults as Clisthenes, tyrant of Sicyon, heaped on 
 the tribes, calling them ^Ass-tribe,' 'Pig-clan,' and so 
 forth. The tyranny may best be considered as the direct 
 contradiction of all Grreek ideas of life and government, 
 as the negation both of the old notion of aristocracy 
 founded on birth, and of the new notions of the equal 
 claim of all freeborn citizens. The tyrant rules over 
 men who are his equals and betters, purely in his own 
 selfish interest, and not in that of the governed.^^ Just 
 as a true commonwealth, or Politeia, contained all the 
 elements of the State mingled in due subordination, so 
 tyranny mingled the worst qualities of the worst forms 
 of government, selfishness beyond that of the narrowest 
 oligarchy, license beyond that of the loosest democracy. 
 The tyrant in early Greece was generally either a 
 demagogue, or partisan of the people, who led them 
 against the nobles, and seized the fruits of victory, or 
 one of the surviving heroic kings, who strained his 
 hereditary and constitutional powers,^^ or a magistrate 
 who abused the sway he held for a long term of office, 
 or an oligarch set in high place by his faction. His 
 power was never stable till he secured a bodyguard, 
 especially a bodyguard of strangers. Once supported 
 by this Oriental institution, he showed all the distrust 
 of an oligarchy, all their greed, and like an oligarchy 
 stripped the democracy of their arms, while in the 
 spirit of democracy he put down the nobles, and drove 
 them into exile less honourable than that of ostracism. 
 Sucli crimes were the natural consequence of absolute 
 power, though we should be wrong in supposing that 
 » Pol. iv. 10, 4. 26 p^,i. y, 10. 
 
 MODERN TYRANTS. 
 
 27 
 
 Pittacus of Mitylene, or Phidon of Argos, or Pisis- 
 tratus even at Athens, were essentially criminals of this 
 class. They had the excuse of Csesarism, and were not 
 wanting in the redeeming features whicli the believers 
 m despotism are wont to flatter. But the tendency of 
 tyranny was to develop a character of lawless lust and 
 cruelty, a character to which recondite evil became good, 
 a fantasy which found pleasure only in arbitrary violence' 
 against nature and law, in exquisite varieties of sin and 
 inflicted pain. This is the type of man which we find in 
 the medieval cities of Italy, and the Baglioni may mate 
 with the Penthelidae, Ezzelin with Periander. But 
 there were also commonplace practices of tyranny, th^ 
 mere natural result of greed and selfishness of a low sort, 
 which have had their likeness in our own time. When 
 we read how the tyrant is a stirrer up of war, how he 
 fosters distrust between citizens, how he puts do^vn all 
 public gatherings, how he has his police everywhere, 
 how he encourages the extravagance of women, how he 
 impoverishes the State with public works, how he 
 associates with the worst of men, how he sets class 
 against class, how he corrupts all classes, we think of 
 the author of the Crimean and the Mexican expeditions 
 and of the coup d'etat, the cause of great men's exile 
 and of low men's promotion, the patron of Hausmann, 
 the tyrant who ' did so much for France.' 
 
 When the tyrants had been expelled, for the most 
 part, by the action of individual revenge for insult, or 
 of combined rebellion, or by help of the conservative 
 power of Sparta, the Greek states emerged from the 
 struggle, each a tolerably compact body of citizens 
 
28 
 
 SETTLED LAW. 
 
 united by the wrongs which all had suffered, and by 
 glory in the tyrannicide which had benefited all. If 
 the tyrant had not always succeeded in ' lopping off the 
 taller ears of corn,' at least he had levelled nobles and 
 churls, gentiles and non-gentiles, by a common oppression 
 of disgrace. The emancipated citizens were now heirs 
 to the splendid public buildings, the roads, and acque- 
 ducts, on which the tyrannic policy had expended public 
 money.2^ jn ^\^q common feeling of relief the class 
 privileges, which had been in abeyance, fell often into 
 disuse. In Athens, where tlie development of democracy 
 was, so to speak, normal, the laws of Solon had, even 
 before the tyrant's time, made property, not birth, the 
 qualification for rule, and even the poorest freemen had 
 received just so much power as would suffice to satisfy 
 them. How much that may have been it is not easy to 
 ascertain. In one passage Aristotle represents some 
 disputants as holding that he ' gave all a right to sit on 
 the juries, wherefore some blame him, as if he had rather 
 undone than 'stablished the State.' The opinion that 
 he did establish the juries, which in time made the 
 Demos all powerful, as well as the blame, was probably 
 expressed by the censurers of Solon, for (in Pol. book iii. 
 11, 8), as well as in the passage already quoted (ii. 1 2, 3), 
 Aristotle himself declares that Solon only gave the people 
 the right to elect magistrates, and to bring them to trial 
 after their term of office. Whatever may liave been 
 the exact amount of liberty and power conceded, it is 
 tolerably certain that the power could not have been 
 actually wielded by poor and industrious men before 
 
 27 Pol. V. 11, 8. 
 
 SOLON AND CLISTHENES. 
 
 29 
 
 Pericles began the custom of paying the jurors.^^ The 
 laws of Solon, which were to the Demos what the laws 
 of Edward were to the English after tlie Norman Con- 
 quest—another name for justice and freedom, had the 
 good fortune to please botli the people and the later 
 philosophers. Plato looked back to them lovingly, as 
 to the institutions of a time when our ' Lady Eeverence 
 was with us ; ' and perhaps it was not till the Solonian 
 constitution was restored in all its exclusiveness by 
 Antipater and by a foreign force (322 e.g.), that the 
 Athenians discovered how tlieir later democracy had 
 outgrown its early limits.^^ 
 
 Solon had ancliored the State, witli the fixed power 
 of the Areopagus, whicli exercised a censorial sway, 
 based on old religious privilege. It was the business of 
 Clisthenes, coming after the inter\'al of tyranny, to 
 complete the equalisation of ranks which the Pi'sis- 
 tratidae had begun. For this purpose he introduced 
 into the tribes many stranger-residents, and even slaves, 
 made new tribes altogether, and separated the citizens 
 into the local divisions of demes for political purposes, 
 while the clans tended to become a mere religious sur- 
 vival,3o and mode of registering the legitimacy ol" citizens. 
 What with new guilds, new triljes, and tlie bringing 
 together of the many separate family-worships into few 
 and common shrines, everything was contrived so as to 
 
 -^ Grrote, iii. 170. 
 
 2 Plato, Lays, 698, 744. deaTrSns 4vvv ris aiUs. Grote, iv. 139 
 roJ. VI. 4, 18; where Ari.stotl*^ says that the same sort of 
 reform was carried out ,n Cyrene. Herodotus, v. 69, says he made 
 ten tribes mst.ad of four, but supposes him to have done so out of 
 contempt for the sons of Ion. 
 
30 
 
 THE ULTIMATE DEMOCKACY. 
 
 blend the State into a new avi'OLKi<ns. Changes 
 almost as important followed the victory of the ' mob 
 of seamen' at Salamis. The Archonship became open 
 to all free citizens by Lot, the sacred power of 
 the Areopagus was checked by Pericles and Ephialtes, 
 the jurors were paid for attendance in the courts, 
 the tables of the law were brought down from the 
 Acropolis to the Agora, and step by step the dema- 
 gogues reduced the democracy to that last estate which 
 Plato calls a critical theatrocracy, and Aristotle despises 
 as perverted and unnatural. But if Athens incurred 
 the censure of Aristotle because, through the influence 
 of trade, her population grew heterogeneous, because 
 by aid of success in war she became a tyrant city, ruling 
 other states against their will ; if her citizens pursued 
 commerce till they came to make money even out of 
 their intellectual powers; if there was no drill, no 
 surveillance of private life ; on the other hand, Athens 
 may be looked on almost as an Ideal State at the time 
 when she placed full power in the hands of him who 
 ' excelled all the state in virtue,' who was ' as a God 
 among Men,' Pericles the Olympian. ^^ 
 
 In Athens the development of the State was most 
 natural and normal, but of course there were many 
 varieties of growth, and many cases of arrested develop- 
 ment in Hellas. In mountainous districts of Arcadia 
 the people in Aristotle's time lived as an sduos, or tribe, 
 in separate homesteads. Sparta, again, knew no age 
 of tyrants, and suffered from ardaLs, or civil strife, 
 
 " Pol. iii. 13, 13; Grote, iv. 215. 6 ax^voK4<pa\os Zevs U€piK\4r)s, 
 so called by Cratinus. 
 
 VARIETIES IN DEVELOPMENT. ^ 
 
 only in very remote times. She preserved the semblance 
 of kingly power, in the two kings, with their sacred 
 and mihtary functions.3^> In many states, as in Thebes 
 and Cormth, Oligarchy was as successful almost 
 as Democracy was in Athens, and, in spite of insur- 
 rections gave the stamp to the character of the city. 
 her states, again, lived without fixed character, 
 either Oligarchic or Democratic, and changed with each 
 Z tV'^' brought back one party o'f exiles, a^d 
 drove the Government to wander in search of foreign 
 
 Athens had fairly consolidated their powers, and had 
 
 Tor^ "^''T"' their state-character as Liberal 
 01 Obstructive, they were always interfering with the 
 politics of the smaller towns, and so preventing a 
 normal development. 33 Still on the whole there did 
 exist a normal and natural law of revolution which 
 subject to occasional variations, governed the internal' 
 afifairs of the Greek States. Having sketched their his- 
 torical career to the period of full gro^vth, it becomes 
 necessaiy to examine the many causes that inclined the 
 balance in every direction, from the loosest democracy 
 to the sternest oligarchy. "^ 
 
 '2 Herod, vi. 56. 
 
 "Pol. iv. 11, 17; V. 7^ 14^ 
 
32 
 
 CO>'STITUTIONS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 INTERNAL CAUSES OF VAKIOUS FORMS OF THE STATE. 
 
 Aristotle bas left us an elaborate tbeory of tlie causes 
 wbicb produced not only Oligarcbies, Democracies, and 
 Tyrannies, but also tbe various degrees and sbades of 
 difference tbat distinguisbed one from anotber Oligarcliy 
 or Democracy. All tbree forms of constitution are in 
 tlie first place to be considered as irapcK/Saaeis^ as in- 
 stitutions wbicb bave missed tbe rational order, founded 
 on tbe very nature of tbings, wbicb governs tbe real 
 iNIonarcbv, tbe true Aristocracy, tbe genuine Common- 
 wealtb. To fall sbort of tbis perfection, tben, was tbe 
 common feature of all existing non-ideal governments; 
 but tbev fell sbort of it in various manners and degrees. 
 Tbey varied in tbeir cbaracter— tbat is in tbeir organic 
 arrangements as to tbe distribution of power, as to tbe 
 sovereign, or strongest portion of tbe state in tbe last 
 resort. Tbe sovereign {Kvpiov) is ' tbat wbicb decides 
 in questions of war and peace, and of making or dis- 
 solvino' alliances, and about laws, and capital punisb- 
 ment, and exile, and fines, and audits of accounts, and 
 examinations of administrators after their term of 
 office.'^-* Clearly tbe cbaracter of tbe^ TroXmu/xa or 
 constitution may vary almost infinitely — (and to ob- 
 serve tbe variety of sbades was Aristotle's main pre- 
 occupation)— in proportion as few citizens or many 
 belong to tbe sovereign body, and in proportion to tbe 
 
 3» Tol. iv. 14, 3. 
 
 J CONSTITUTIONS. 33 
 
 degrees in which they share, and the manner in which 
 they exercise sovereign functions, and the amount of 
 discretion and power they allow to the elected magis- 
 trate Judicial, administrative, elective, legislative 
 func ions may be arranged, in states so smaU as the 
 Greek cities, m hundreds of artificial ways, so as to 
 preserve a balance of power for a year or two. 
 
 States were thus differentiated as regarded the form 
 of their constitution, and again they were differentiated 
 
 afmed" T ^'"'^''V^*'" '"'' "''''' '' ^^^-^ they 
 aimed. This aim, whether in Tyranny, Oligarchy, or 
 
 Democracy, was a selfish one, namely the interest of 
 
 one lawless ruler, of the few who were in power, or of i 
 
 the poorer freemen. All oligarchies, however, were not \ 
 
 equally selfish and equally narrow, nor ail deLocrlcie 
 
 on one level of indolence, useless meddlesomeness, nd 
 
 W but none, not even Tyranny, might not be ren- / 
 
 chTniT r'''"i' ""'^ '-''' ^"^'•'^'^^ - --*-/ 
 
 change, by the moderate exercise of power which 
 preserve, the duration of governments, while duration 
 might make even an oligarchy lose its virulence, as 
 diseases grow milder when they have long prevailed in 
 a country. This is the tolerant way in which A^tot J 
 
 Sti : ;"^""^" p°""^^' ^°^^^^- ^^^^-t^f*^ 4 
 
 might be to his own sense of right. 
 - The constitution and character" of a state depended 
 on, and was in fact identical with, the distribution of 
 power, and power was distributed in accordance with 
 the proportionate differences in the social elements, 
 There were nch men, poor men, men of middle fortune 
 
34 
 
 OLIGARCHY AND DEMOCRACY. 
 
 OLIGARCHY AND DEMOCRACY. 
 
 35 
 
 men who could afford heavy armour, others who went 
 light-armed to battle, and the bulk of the people de- 
 rived its livelihood from trade, agriculture, or fishing 
 and maritime enterprise. All these classes of the 
 population, which might be reckoned in six sets, as 
 husbandmen, handicraftsmen, warriors, men of property, 
 priests, judges, had their various tasks, and claims to 
 power and recompense from the state, and the character 
 of the state was determined by the proportions in which 
 each class got its claims recognised. ''When men of 
 wealth and birth were powerful, they would exclude 
 husbandmen, handicraftsmen, and tradesmen from rule 
 
 if possible even from the general asseml)ly — on the 
 
 pretext that persons engaged in business had neither the 
 leisure necessary for the discharge of civil duties, nor 
 strength and skill in war. Where, on the other hand, 
 circumstances such as tlie victory of the seafaring popu- 
 lation of Athens at Salamis, or a defeat in war which 
 weakened the aristocracy, threw power into the hands 
 of the multitude, they would establish Democracy, glory 
 in that as the only really free constitution, and reply 
 with the watchwords of ' equality,' ' rule and be ruled 
 in turn,' ' trust the sacred lot,' ' collective wisdom,' to 
 the Oligarch's pretension of wealth, education, and high 
 birth.^^ The constitution now established might vary, 
 Aristotle thought, in four degrees, resulting from the 
 nature and occupation of the ruling people. In a 
 Democracy, where the majority of the citizens were 
 husbandmen, and had little leisure to spend in the 
 market place, or where the holders of magistracies 
 «* As to the Lot, Plato, Laws, 690 C. 
 
 were selected out of the possessors of a slight census, 
 or even where all citizens were eligible for office, but 
 the mass, being poor, had to attend to their own affairs, 
 Law was likely to reign, and not popular self-will. But 
 when there was a large population, paid out of the state 
 resources, out of tributes, fines, and so on, for attend- 
 ance at the Assembly, Law Courts, and Theatres, the 
 last and worst form of Democracy arose. All the social 
 evils of tyranny were felt ; the people had its flatterers, 
 as tyrants had theirs ; justice was perverted by greed 
 of fines. In such a state popular will ruled through 
 decrees, instead of the passionless No//,os, and the 
 regulative powers of the upper house or 7rp6/3ov\oi were 
 disregarded by the brawling Assembly. 
 
 When, on the other hand, birth, wealth, and edu- 
 cation managed to make good their claims, when an 
 Oligarchy was established, that too might be more or 
 less intense in its action. A tolerably large class in 
 easy circumstances might be the actual sovereign, or 
 again, a very large property census might be demanded 
 as qualification, or power might fall into the hands of 
 one family or kinship, and, worst of all, the self-will of 
 hereditary rulers might override Law. In contradis- 
 tinction to these degrees of injustice, the UoXneia, or 
 Commonwealth, was a form of well-tempered state, 
 which united the virtues and satisfied the claims of 
 freedom, wealth, birth, and native genius or virtue. 
 Any form of Oligarchy or Democracy, or the juster 
 Commonwealth, might be gradually brought about by 
 slow transfer of the balance of power, by raising or 
 lowering the franchise, electing to magistracies by vote, 
 
 D 2 
 
 H^^ 
 
I l( 
 
 i 
 
 36 
 
 EEVOLUTIOXS. 
 
 an oligarclnc arrangement, by lot, as Democracy pre- 
 ferred, or by combining both systems. In the Law 
 Courts there might be many degrees of property quali- 
 fica ion conferring the right to sit on trials, and many 
 shades of power might be entrusted to the Senate, to 
 the ISomothetae, and to the Assembly. In oligarchies 
 and democracies all these matters were in a state of 
 delicate equipoise, which might be upset at any mo- 
 ment, with consequences affecting the whole state. 
 The smal est thing may be the occasion of a revolution 
 really involving the most important results,' says Aris- 
 otle whose theory of revolutions is an expansion of 
 
 VII. 
 
 THEORY OF ItEVOLUTIONS. 
 
 EEYOLrTiONs and civil strife, were the permanent 
 dangers of the Greek City-state, and the great bar 
 to Its usefulness as an instrument of education, and 
 as an environment of the perfect life. As the character 
 of the citizen shifted with that of the city, and as that was 
 a ways changing, there could be no stable character at 
 all. Therefore what the Greek political theorist wished 
 to secure, before all else, was a permanent constitntior^. 
 As a rule he made the error of thinking that this could 
 only be found in a stationanj condition of society, 
 ^hich he found more nearly attained by Sparta than 
 by any other State. A theory of Revolutions wa, 
 therefore a necessary part of political philosophy, and 
 
 f 
 
 /■< 
 
 a 
 
 ^1 
 
 n 
 
 I 
 
 J I > 
 
 * I • 
 
 PLATO'S THEOEY. 
 
 37 
 
 in Aristotle's theory tlie difference between the methods 
 of himself and of Plato is very clearly displayed. Plato's 
 views are made difficult to us by the fact that he starts 
 from an astrological scheme of numbers which rule the 
 existence of his ideal city. During a certain necessary 
 cycle of time there will be certain births of inferior 
 citizens among the Guardians ; hence a selfish love of 
 wealth, and of individual distinction arises, and the 
 ideal polity is corrupted into a likeness of the warlike 
 Spartan commonwealth. In the decline to Oligarcliy, 
 to Democracy, and to Tyranny, it is always the passion 
 of greed that is the corrupting power. Oligarchic 
 magistrates engage in commerce — a practice, as Aris- 
 totle says, forbidden in most real olio-archies— thev 
 impoverish young men of birth, and thus a class ari.<es 
 like the Mirabeaus and Catilines of French and Roman 
 history. The step to Democracy is easy, as the poor 
 despise the bloated oligarclis, and at last attack them, 
 while the extreme license of Democracy tends to the 
 opposite evil of Tyranny. To all this theory Aristotle 
 opposes facts. A State does not usually change into 
 the form next it, but into its opposite. Oligarcliy, 
 more often than Tyranny, succeeds Democracy. Plato 
 has given no account of the end of Tyranny itself. 
 Injustice, and offence to heaven, more frequently than 
 greed, produce revolutions. Lastl}^, the Platonic theory 
 neglects the very many shades of difference which in 
 real life separate democracy from democracy, and oli- 
 garchy from oligarchy. In the 'Laws,' however (709), 
 Plato hints at a wider theory, and a more historical one. 
 In his own theory Aristotle is guided by history. TJie 
 
 hi 
 
38 
 
 CAUSES OF 2TA2I2. 
 
 fountam of Revolution was that jealous love of equalit. 
 -hich uaarked the Greek character. ' Men turn to ch^ 
 stnfe when they think that they have not got their Z 
 
 Observes. The civil strife might take tlie form of a 
 desire to overthrow the existing constitution, or tose z! 
 
 te rewards and offices, or to modify the intensity of 
 character as oligarchic or democratic, or to chani 
 -me special detail in its working. On the whole a 
 Democracy was less subject to .W. than an OlJ L 
 because there was room for the jealousy of 'an oliVarchy 
 within an oligarchy,' and so for a tripartite diviSn of 
 en.^:ngs and heartburnings. The universal and pre 
 
 ereat ^.LT7 ""'"^ '''^P'^' ^""^ fo-'^d 
 
 and civ- ? ""'T" '''" distribution of wealth 
 and civic honours and office was of course the main 
 ground of quarrel, bat habits of insolence, momenr f 
 ten-or, the pride and negligence of overwe;ning Towe^ 
 h strength of some magistracy or class whicf lad 
 
 he faetiousness of party, the undue depression of^ 
 set of citizens, were all predisposing causes of Revo- 
 lution. Again, a State might contain citizens of alien 
 races, as Acho^ans and Tr«zenians were mingled a 
 -Sybaris, or a. the Gephyra^ans were blended :ith an 
 Ionic population at Athens, and race hatreds mi..]it 
 break out into civil war Fvpn Aife rV" 
 
 c;t,.„f ^ , , ^° differences of oca! 
 
 situation afforded very pretty quarrels, and the dwellers 
 on the height might hate the dwellers in the plain ; 
 
 . " Pol. V. 1. 
 
 SPECIAL DANGERS. 
 
 39 
 
 *• 
 
 the people of the harbour might be more democratic 
 than the people of the city.^^ ' In short, the acquisition 
 of power, whether by private citizens, or magistracies, 
 or tribes, or by any single portion, small or great, of 
 the State, was a cause of sedition; for either the 
 persons who envied these began the strife, or the men, 
 or party which had gained the strength, were no longer 
 content to live on a footing of equality with their 
 fellow-citizens.' 
 
 Such were the general conditions of civil discord in 
 Greece, but there were evils and dangers peculiar to 
 Democracies, and others which beset Oligarchies. In 
 a Democracy there was the terror felt by the rich, and 
 their reactionary revolution against the peril of confis- 
 cation. The greed of demagogues would drive forth 
 large troops of hostile emigres, who waited their chance 
 to destroy the Democracy. Then there was the risk, 
 greater in w^arlike than in later times, of a demagogic 
 dictator setting up a Tyranny. Any powerful magis- 
 tracy might be made a stepping-stone to a despotism 
 by an unscrupulous demagogue. Again, the proverbial 
 haste of democracy which gave the force of law to sud- 
 denly carried decrees, might destroy some old legal 
 safeguard of the constitution. In Oligarchies the 
 besetting sin was insolence and injustice towards the 
 mass of the citizens. Through this fault most of the 
 old dynasties fell, under the assault of some popular 
 leader, whether sprung from the oligarchic families, or of 
 the oppressed classes. Allied to these dangers was the 
 risk of narrowing the Oligarchy, and of constructing an 
 
 " Pol. V. 3, 15, 
 
40 
 
 BANGEES OF STATES. 
 
 ^mp^^^um^n ^mpeno. The insolence of wealth, and 
 the demands of luxury threw men of the type of Cat? 
 I-e or of Mirabeau, youths of ruined fortunes on 
 projects of sedition. Distrust of the people Tw" 
 made mercenaries a necessity, and a general of merl 
 nanes m:ght anticipate the conduct' of Italian^ Je 
 Francesco Sforza and Castruccio Castrucani, and en! 
 slave the state he had served. Either in an Oligarchy 
 or a Democracy a change in the value of money mighl 
 widen or narrow the census, and a crowd of new 
 
 mtrtr^J* " '^'^'''^^ *« P--' -. ^^ain, office 
 might thus be limited to the few, and in either case 
 a revolution was imminent. As might be expec ^ 
 revolutions broke out on slight occasions. thouSiCly 
 
 lot T \ " f ^P"*'' ^^'^ ""^ ^^^"^ importfnce. I 
 love quarrel, a lawsuit, a marriage difficulty, might 
 divide a city into parties, as in medieval Itai;. Ihe 
 wo ds of Hallam apply almost without change to the 
 earlier civilisation of Greece • ' In eve t iT 
 
 quarrels of private families became the found'tL of 
 general schism, sedition, and proscription.' In short 
 te condition of Greek cities went to'prove that ^ 
 pathological state is more frequent and more dangerou! 
 in proportion to the complicated character of the 
 organism.' 
 
 In all these combinations of power, the form of the 
 constitution was the prize of party victory. Thi^ 
 state o things was positively ruinous to the phHosophic 
 concephon of the State. There could be no fixed 
 moral habit of character among men whose pol ty wis 
 always shifting its ^60. To bring out the darkness o 
 
 'THE ORDERLY TYRANT.' 
 
 41 
 
 C V 
 
 the political picture, Aristotle sketches a brighter design 
 of the best possible State. He will not speak of the ideal 
 Aristocracy, where a few men, of preeminent merit, rule 
 the State for the advantage of the governed, nor of the 
 ideal Monarchy, where one divinely gifted man reigns in 
 the same fashion. Aristocracies demand somewhat be- 
 yond the real condition of States, or they approach the 
 form of government called Politeia. This is almost a 
 confession that the true Aristocracy, based on willing 
 concessions to half-divine superiority, is usually a mere 
 dream. A set of men, or one man, might flatter them- 
 selves, or tlieir friends might flatter them, into the 
 belief that they were the founders of a true Aristocracy, 
 or of a true Monarchy. But in the eyes of Greece the 
 self-styled Aristocrats were really Oligarclis, and Aris- 
 totle himself did not escape the charge of being the 
 trencherman and boon companion of that slave-eunuch 
 turned tyrant, Hermeias. The philosophers might 
 expect much from an 'orderly tyrant,' 'young, tem- 
 perate, quick at learning, having a good memory, of 
 a noble nature, and the friend and contemporary of a 
 great legislator.' ^s But the constitution of things was 
 against this favourable conjuncture of absolute power, 
 virtue, and knowledge. Monarchy of the true sort. 
 Aristocracy of the true sort, were but visions. ' There 
 are no kingships now,' says Aristotle.^^ There remains 
 the other natural and unperverted ideal government, the 
 Politeia, Polity, or Constitutional Commonwealth. 
 
 What was the Politeia } We have seen that Oli- 
 garchies and Democracies derived their names from the 
 
 »« Plato, Laws, 709 E. «9 Pol. v. 10, 37. 
 
 ^\A 
 
42 
 
 
 -( 
 
 f 
 
 THE CONSTITUTIONAI, BEPUBLIC. 
 
 abnormal disproportionate gro^rth of a part of fh.- 
 
 deformity, the easier [t was to ^irS """T T 
 
 deformed organisation, whether X hrr De^'^ 
 
 cracy. J,ow the Politeia has no distCive name ^t' 
 
 snnpl, a constitution ^ar excellences" Thibet i^ 
 
 mature. It had no overgrown part, all were mino-l.J 
 
 tit: rr trt''^^^'^ '' ''' ^^"^^^■«' -^" '^ 
 
 t zen m the Pohteia, is established on the ha.f, nf 
 TTai/Tcyz/. Children arp r,..f k , / ^ ^ P^^-riaTrj 
 
 scope, for 'the city would fain consist of eoual, • Th 
 
 *« Compare Plato, Laws 712 Tl. ^ P^vver. 
 
 they are genuine, prove that these ide.. nf'fP''",^ ^^ Hippodamus. if 
 nients were ^ in the air ' .Uall) T « ^^^ ^^""^"^ *^^ "^'^ed Govern- 
 
 to speak of the jealousies withi^J' ^f""' ^^^daaera^. He goes on 
 citjzen has to y^, from his Stt" ''S ^ ' ' "^ '' ^^^ "^^^^^ '^^ 'rea 
 «^* ra;. ^Ja.v e'/c ;ra.ra,. aiye^rlT^l ^"^'^'^^^^^ '« represented as saying 
 Dic^archus, pp. 37, 38. ^'"' ^"^ ^^"^ 'roAirc/a^. rii?^ 
 
 n 
 
 4^' 
 
 • / 
 
 \ 
 
 FOEEIGN EELATIONS OF STATES. 
 
 43 
 
 This State is clearly the best of possible constitutions, 
 \ because it has the note of excellence, it is alone un- 
 shaken and unchanged by civil brawls. This is a 
 picture of happy political life, as the philosophers 
 hoped that it might be constituted. But when we ask 
 [ where an example of the ttoXctsui, of the 'well-mingled 
 State,' is to be found, the answer is but doubtful. 
 Sparta, perhaps, came near it, for the Spartan consti- 
 tution held democratic, monarchic, and oligarchic 
 elements in steady equilibrium. But Aristotle con- 
 fesses — 97 /jurjBsTTOTS Trjv /jLsaijv jlvsadai iroXLTslav, 7) 
 oXtyd/cLs KoX Trap oXtyotf^^ Thus he is at one with 
 Tacitus, where he says — ' delecta ex his et consociata 
 Eeipublicse forma laudari facilius quam evenire,' though 
 he would deny that, when the mixed State was once 
 formed, ' liaud diuturna esse potest.' 
 
 We have sketched Aristotle's analysis of the factors, 
 historical, political, and social, that made up the Grreek 
 States, and the causes that disturbed them. The inter- 
 national relations of the States to each other must now 
 be considered. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS OF THE GREEK CITIES. 
 
 The very essence of the Grreek City-state was isolated, 
 self-governed freedom. For a city to be subject to the 
 
 *• Pol. iv. 11, 19. Solon also had the praise of 'mixing the State 
 well,' as the Areopagus represented oligarchy; the elective nature of the 
 governors, aristocracy ; and the juries, democracy. (Pol. ii. 9.) 
 
 \v. 
 
 li 
 
44 
 
 CAUSES OF SMALL EXTENT OF STATES. 
 
 WEAKNESS OF GREEK LEAGUES. 
 
 45 
 
 commands of another state in the regulation of her 
 foreign affairs, was almost to cease to be a citj at all, 
 and to become a nondescript community, as much 
 wanting in definite position as the once free citizen 
 who has become the subject of a tyrant. Autonomy 
 was as much the note of the free State, as a share in 
 deliberative and judicial functions was the note of the 
 full citizen." Many reasons might be given to help to 
 explain this peculiarly Greek demand of autonomous in- 
 dependence for each state, which caused at once the va- 
 riety, the many-sided development, and the weakness and 
 disunion of the race. The physical structure of Hellas, 
 wth Its various climates, its deeply indented coasts. 
 Its walls of moimtains, its different classes of productive 
 soil, tended to sever city from city, and the mode of 
 life in one state from the mode of life in another. To 
 these natural causes must be added the force of religion 
 which combined tlie associations of ancestral kindred 
 with those of locality. When once the religions of the 
 gentes had been united under the sanction of a higher 
 and more comprehensive worship, when once the city 
 had been placed under the protection of an Olympic 
 God, as Apollo, Athene, Hera, the limits of early Greek 
 religion had been reached. The citizen, whose patron 
 was Athene, could not allow his state to be swayed by 
 the citizens who worshipped Hera in chief place. 'The 
 Gods are hard to reconcile,' and all the instincts of the 
 Greeks prevented them from making the effort. True 
 it was religion that tried to unite city with city, just 
 as religion had united -^ivos with -^ho,. The Amphic- 
 
 « Pol. iv. 4, 11. ahipK-n, yip f, ir6\,!, Ti U UiXo„ oiK alirapKts. 
 
 't 
 
 fi 
 
 V 
 
 'V 
 
 '1, 
 
 (.■V 
 
 tyonies of Calaiiria, of Delphi and Pylse, the gatherings 
 at Delos and at Olympia, were all the result of a feeling 
 that tribes of Hellenes were one in blood and faith. It 
 might have been expected that, just as the old hospitali- 
 ties, in which one village received deputies from another 
 village to its sacred feast, had promoted the combina- 
 tion of villages into the city, so the meetiugs of lonians, 
 Dorians, Dolopes, Perrhaebians, and so on, at Delphi and 
 Pylse, would help to amalgamate cities into a nation, 
 or at least into a confederacy. But the greater Am- 
 pliictyony was after all a survival from the tribal times, 
 from ages earlier, perhaps, than the foundation of the 
 City-states, which, when once founded, exercised so ab- 
 sorbing an influence over their citizens, that Greek states 
 never could coalesce into a Grreek nation. Confederacies 
 there were in plenty, such as the Theban confederacy, 
 the Athenian alliance. But just as few Greeks, with 
 all their hatred of tyranny, could resist the temptation 
 of an opportunity to become tyrants, so neither Thebes 
 nor Athens could bear to be only first among equals. The 
 confederacies of the flourishing age of Greece were 
 always weakened by ambition on the one side and 
 jealous watchfulness on the other. There were, how- 
 ever, two causes which tended to promote a national 
 feeling in Greece, and to give a more than parochial 
 breadth to Greek politics, but these causes had ceased 
 to act in the age when Aristotle surveyed the constitu- 
 tions of Hellas. Eesistance to the barbarous power of 
 Persia in the struggle that saved civilisation went near 
 to combine all Hellenes, though, even in the face of 
 the Persian invasion, Thebes and Thessaly stood aloof, 
 
 \^^ 
 
46 
 
 DECLINE OF NATIONAL SPIRIT. 
 
 Argos was doubtful, or took the side of barbarism. 
 Again, after Persia ceased to be formidable, the strife 
 for supremacy between Athens and Sparta divided 
 Greece into two camps— the camp, in a sense, of Demo- 
 cracy, and the camp of Oligarchy, and it might have 
 been hoped that the complete victory of either side 
 would result in some sort of steadfast unity. But, un- 
 happily, the pretext of liberty, whether urged by Athens 
 or Sparta, only covered the ambition to erect a Tyrant 
 State on the ruins of free Commonwealths, and the 
 ultimate exhaustion of both powers left Greece, free 
 indeed, but without a policy or an aim, save the sen- 
 timental policy of Isocrates, without even a wholesome 
 dissension. When Thebes had grown to an equality 
 with the two 'primary States'— Thebes, wliich in 
 the struggle for the very existence of Greece had 
 sided with the powers of darkness— a sound national 
 feeling had ceased to be possible, and Greek politics 
 became a chaos of petty and hostile ambitions. The 
 new Athenian naval confederacy broke up disastrously ; 
 the backward States, Phocis and Arcadia, arose in 
 sudden strength that had none of the polish of the old 
 leading cities. The ambition of Phocis ended in the 
 sack of Delphi, and in the consequent destruction of 
 the associations that made the religious unity of Greece. 
 Meanwhile the power of Macedon was growing up in 
 the background, as surely and stealthily as the power 
 of Brandenburg in modern Europe. The character of 
 the individual Greek citizen had also been changing, 
 his ideas becoming blurred and confused, through cir- 
 cumstances which need to be glanced at. 
 
 / 
 
 I 
 
 
 »• ■ v'\ 
 
 CHAEACTER OF INDIVIDUALS. 47 
 
 IX. 
 
 CAUSES AFFECTING THE PERSONAL CHARACTER OF THE 
 
 CITIZENS. 
 
 The sources of dissension within the cities, and the 
 causes of revolution which we liave been considering, 
 were all, it may be said, of a necessary character. It 
 was necessary, if tlie States were ever to exist at all, 
 that interests should clash, that there should be a 
 struggle for power between sacred privilege and num- 
 bers, between wealth and birth, and the force of the 
 majority and tlie might of individual ambition and 
 genius. But when the struggle had been decided in 
 one way or another, when the balance liad been 
 struck, which might unfortunately be so easily dis- 
 arranged by a slight access of strength to the 
 Demos, or to the Oligarchs, the cities had acquired 
 each an individual ethos^ or character. One was adven- 
 turous, industrious, full of variety of mood, yet con- 
 stantly set on maintaining democratic freedom, like 
 Athens ; one was steadily devoted to military glory, 
 and submitted to military drill, like Sparta; another 
 was commercial, like Corinth ; another reposed indo- 
 lently on the labour of an enslaved agricultural class, 
 like Thebes. AVhatever the ethos of the State, it was 
 most important, for the avoidance of revolution, that 
 the ethos should be impressed on all the citizens, and 
 that the social tone should not be offended by individual 
 vagaries, by ' a want of conformity to the standard of 
 opinion in daily life,' like that which was censured in 
 
48 
 
 FOREIGN AOT SCEPTICAL INFLUENCES. 
 
 Alcibiades Besides the ethos of each state, there was 
 what may be called the Hellenic Hhos, the conformity 
 to Greek ideas, to vary from which was to cease to be 
 a good Greek, as to vary from the character of the 
 State was to cease to be a good citizen. Now the 
 character which the opinion of Hellas demanded from 
 every true citizen might be summed in one word- 
 Pat™^^^^^^^ Patriotism set the claims of the city above 
 al o her chnms, urged the Greek to spend and be spent 
 as If his body were not his own but another's,' in the 
 jnterests of the State. The patriotism might be narrow 
 but It was genmne, and after the Persian war it was 
 sapped by many causes. First came acquaintance with 
 foreign lands, alien religions, non-Hellenic customs in 
 daily life. Persian luxury and despotism, Oriental 
 mysticism, and the wild rites of orgiastic religions 
 probably shocked the Greek at firstt then they ap- 
 pealed to his love of power and his sensuality, then 
 they se lum to ask why the free institutions and 
 temperate life of his country should be the best life. 
 They were handed down to him by his ancestors, it 
 is^ true, but wherefore should his ancestors be held 
 wjse with more than the wisdom of the Egyptians? 
 These Ideas led to speculation on the origin of society, 
 onus rd^^ous basis, on the sanction of social rules 
 and m tins era of enlightenment speculators were found 
 ke the Thrasymachus of Plato, to denounce the life of 
 the free State, to demand a return to Nature, and to 
 defend tyranny. Political speculation was now set free 
 ^1 metaphysical philosophy became more and more pop.' 
 iilar. Was it not a better and nobler thing, the Greek 
 
 DEMORALISATION. 
 
 49 
 
 had to ask himself, to strain all the mental faculties to 
 the apprehension of truth, and in the search after God, 
 than to haunt the Assembly, and mix in ' the Babel of 
 sterile politics?' Thus philosophy began to draw the 
 best minds away from tlie service of the State, into an 
 exclusive sect, while the ambitious were tempted, by 
 the sight of foreign luxury, to reject the old Greek 
 temperance, to desire unlimited wealth, splendour, and 
 power. Clubs and Symmories began to claim the at- 
 tachment once felt for the ysvos and for the city. Upon 
 luxury and culture followed indolence, and life became 
 too sweet to be wasted in the service of the State. Tlius 
 mercenary forces began to be employed, and if any Greek 
 felt the old warlike impulse, he preferred to take arms 
 as a condottiere in Oriental or other service, where 
 booty was plentiful, rather than to stay at home and 
 defend the frontiers of his city.'*^ Thus the youno-er 
 and poorer men were withdrawn from their states, 
 and this, with the increased luxury of tlie rich, and 
 with the fact that the old lots of land which sup- 
 ported a yeoman's family, were united in the hands of 
 a few great proprietors, along with the system of mar- 
 rying 'in and in,' brought about that 6\iyav6p(07ria, 
 decline of population, which was the bane of Sparta. 
 On the other hand, there arose just the opposite evil, 
 as Aristotle thought it, for the commercial activity of 
 the maritime cities increased their population out of 
 measure ; the spirit of colonising was spent ; citizen- 
 ship was too easily conferred, or might be claimed 
 
 " Plato, Laws, 701 C. On the ' Titanic' character of the later Greeks. 
 
50 
 
 CONFISCATIONS. 
 
 with less chance of detection. Thus the crowd of 
 paid jurors, a pauperised aristocracy of thousands, was 
 tempted to raise the never gratified cry of 7^y dpa- 
 haafios, to demand the meting out afresh of the lands 
 of the rich, and did, if Aristotle is to be believed, 
 inflict heavy and unjust fines, which went into the 
 common fund for pleasures.^ But the philosophers 
 probably exaggerated the real proportions of the Eed 
 Terror in Greek democracies. 
 
 X. 
 
 PRACTICAL AIMS OF AEISTOTLE. 
 
 The picture of the political state of Greece in the time 
 of Aristotle, which has been sketched, is, perhaps, too 
 darkly coloured. There was plenty of life left in Hellas, 
 and she had not even yet 'completed her practical tasks 
 in the domain of Politics.' But, on the whole, the 
 spirit of her people was, for the future, to 'continue its 
 activity in freedom from local boundaries,' was to flood 
 the world with the light of civilisation, not to kindle a 
 bright and solitary fire before the shrines of Apollo and 
 Athene. To us, in the perspective of time, the unbroken 
 continuity of Greek life is apparent, but to the contem- 
 poraries of Aristotle the new years seemed so different 
 
 _ » Confiscations by Demaffognes, Pol. r. />, 5. Wliile the old Greek 
 ideas prevaile.], there would seem no injustice to the heirs in confisca- 
 tion. Ihe whole house had sinned ^ith the sinner Of Eoeckh 
 Public Economy of Athens, Engl. Transl. 393. Does iicfearchns sav 
 It was a farourite practice ^vit\i Xhe Athenians ^Ui entrim the resident 
 aliens, orishespeakingofthebasersort whom he calls the J^/k/ p Ul ? 
 
 MACEDONIAN PROTECTORATE. 
 
 51 
 
 from the old, that they may well have thought the con- 
 tinuity stopped, the existence of Hellas ended. Greece 
 was not dead, but changed— so changed that those who 
 looked back to the years in which she best fulfilled her 
 own ideas, the years of Salamis and Himera, when she 
 withstood in one day the whole force of two alien bar- 
 barisms—or to the age of Pericles— might well have 
 thought her dead. Yet we find Aristotle studying her 
 political conditions, as if she were still the Hellas of 
 times past, and we may well ask what was the nature 
 of his practical hopes and aims. 
 
 In the first place Aristotle had to recognise the fact 
 that, what with the weakening of Sparta and Athens, 
 the rise of Macedon, the failing strength of the old 
 natural enem}^, Persia, what with the new cosmopolitan 
 philosophies and the spread of enlightenment, national 
 feeling, attachment to the city, exclusive pride in Hel- 
 lenism, were waning forces. It has been suggested that 
 he wished to revive the national sentiment, in the spi- 
 rited words which contrast Greeks with the warlike and 
 unsettled tribes of the North, and with the tame, though 
 crafty Asiatics. ' Greece might rule the world, if she 
 came under one single government,' he says, and the 
 hint may imply a whole theory of an united Greece, 
 combined with and absorbing the military order and 
 drill of Macedon.''^ There is no word, however, to tell 
 how Aristotle would have produced the union ; whether 
 it would have been a Trafi/SaacXsla, a monarchy of the 
 
 « Pol. vii. 7. This is the view of Oncken, 'Die Staatslehre des 
 Aristot.' ii. 272, 274 : ' Undbleibt als Panhellenisches Ideal des Aristo- 
 teks nur iibrig, der Bund der Ilellenischen Froistaaten unterder Schirm- 
 herrschaft des Makedouischen Konigthums, &c.' 
 
 B 2 
 
52 
 
 THE STATE EDUCATIONAL. 
 
 one best man, or a federation. But Greece would have 
 thought such a federation, under the leadership of 
 ]\Iacedon, as low as the subjection of Thessaly seemed 
 to Demosthenes, ixrj fiovov Kaia ttoXsls aWa koX kujcl 
 sOvTj hov\£V£Lv, So sliglit is Aristotle's allusion, that we 
 are compelled to guess that he only glanced at the idea, 
 and put it away as one too happy ever to be realised. 
 If he did not hope then for an united Hellas, what 
 manner of political life did he still think possible for 
 Greeks, under the old political forms of the City-state? 
 To answer this we must remind ourselves of the extent 
 to which politics und morals blended and merged in 
 the minds of Greeks. The State was, as has often been 
 said, like an University, or, again, like a Eeligious 
 Order ; its drill, the devotion it claimed, were like the 
 enthusiasm demanded from his followers bv the founder 
 of the Company of Jesus. JS^ow if Greeks could either 
 forget that the sceptre of the world had passed from 
 Hellas, or could accept the old city life on a lower level 
 of dignity in face of the rest of the world, tlie old city 
 form might still suffice for the politico-moral training 
 of men. Aristotle, therefore, seriously studied all the 
 conditions of past Greek political experience, and, if he 
 could not cure the evils which vitiated the life of the 
 State, could at least put his finger on them, and say, 
 ' Thou ailest here, and here.' 
 
 This kind of pathological examination of the states 
 and their disorders is, in short, Aristotle's practical 
 contrilmtion to Greek State-lore. His minute diap-nosis 
 of the diseases of the polities had never been so well 
 attempted before, and, as he himself said, if we know 
 
 PEACTICAL ADVICE. 
 
 53 
 
 the causes of the ruin of states, we know the remedies. 
 In the first place even the most minute violations of 
 Law were to be scrupulously guarded against, for the 
 accumulative force of many small changes destroys the 
 strength of Law, which lies in Custom. Here Aristotle 
 is far enough removed from our conception of Law as a 
 living thing, that developes with the changes of society, 
 and he ratlier holds to the ancient theory which wished 
 to stereotype and fix society in a stationary condition. 
 Again, the joarty of the State which possessed power 
 should never use it to harm ' those within or those outside 
 of tlie constitution.' Thus he recommends short terms of 
 ride, as short as six months, to avoid all appearance uf 
 injustice in a State wliere many share tlie highest fran- 
 chise. Short terms of office, also, are unfavourable to the 
 growth of tyranny. Again, in oligarchies and polities, 
 where there is a money qualification for the highest 
 francliise, there must be a yearly census to prevent a 
 depreciation, or a rise in tlie value of money, from dis- 
 turbing the balance of the State. And this is only one 
 practical way of guarding against the (disproportionate 
 growths of power, which destroy the artistic symmetry 
 and pervert the very life of cities. A censorship should 
 watch over private morals in the same interest, and 
 rich and poor should be made to feel that they are not 
 hostile camps, but have the same real interests in poli- 
 tical permanency. This will follow from a system of 
 unpaid magistracies, which the poor will desire less, 
 and whose holders they will not envy. 
 
 In Democracies, not only should all clamours fin- 
 division of property be repressed, but not even the 
 
54 
 
 MODEEATIOX. 
 
 incomes of the rich should be subject to disproportionate 
 charges. Aristotle disapproves of the large and un- 
 necessary expenses incurred by volunteers at Athens, 
 to provide spectacles, banquets, and music for the en- 
 joyment of the Demos, though one might suppose that, 
 where there was no wasteful extravagance, such liber- 
 ality was a happy mode of keeping up ^a/a between 
 rich and poor. To be brief, Aristotle advises all gov- 
 ernments, of whatever shade, to avoid being too empha- 
 tically themselves. The less democratic a demos is, 
 the less oligarchic an oligarchy, the less tyrannous a 
 tyrant, the more each of these forms of rule approaches 
 the natural 'mean,' and the more likely is it to last 
 undisturbed. 
 
 Practically, then, Aristotle recognises the State, even 
 in its erring forms, as a most valuable educational orga- 
 nism, whose value improves with its permanency. It 
 might, even in his late time, remain the best environment 
 of the noble life. And thus Aristotle did not think it 
 below him to frame laws for his native city of Staoira 
 where, even in the fourteenth century of our era, he 
 was revered ' as thoughe he were a seynte,' and where 
 men hoped 'that through inspiracioun of God and of 
 hym, they schulde have the better Conseile.'*^ 
 
 <« iVIandeville, Voyage and Travaile, p. 16. 
 
 GREEK VIEWS OF SLAVERY. 
 
 55 
 
 XI. 
 
 SLAVERY, COMMERCE, AND THE LATER DEMOCRACIES. 
 
 The mind of Aristotle, like the Greek State system 
 itself, was influenced by traditional ideas older than 
 the development of the State, and he attempted to 
 apply these ideas at a j)eriod of history when the State 
 was being sapped and weakened by many novel forces. 
 The confused result is very plain in Aristotle's discus- 
 sion of the questions of Slavery, of Commerce, and of 
 ultimate Democracy. In tlie first j)lace he was anxiousii 
 to support the Conservative view of the institution or? 
 Slavery. This view was tln-eatened on many sides. In ' 
 the spliere of politics, both Tyranny and Democracy 
 tended to relax the restraints imposed on slaves, and 
 we learn from Xenophon, as well as guess from Aristotle, 
 that the slaves in Athens were well-to-do, riclier than 
 many citizens, free and easy, not distinguishable in 
 their attire by the one-sleeved tunic, not to be struck 
 by men who were not their masters. Again, the new 
 theories were all against sLiNery. S]3eculators called it 
 a violation of Nature, just as Rousseau did so many 
 centuries later."*^ The Flesh and Blood argument of 
 Mr. Gladstone was applied to slavery. ' God made all 
 free. Nature has made no man a slave,' said Alcidamas. 
 'No one is worse w^hen he becomes a slave, who was 
 
 •*^ Rousseau, Biscours, p. 65 : — ' Se trouve-t-il un homme d'une force 
 assez supcrieure a la niieuiic, ct de plus asst'Z deprave, asscz paresseux, 
 et assez leroce, pour me contraindro a pourroir a sa subsistanee pendant 
 qu il demeure oisif; il taut qu'il se resolve a ne me pas perdre de vue 
 un seul instant.' 
 
56 
 
 SLAVERY NATURAL. 
 
 SLAVERY NATURAL. 
 
 57 
 
 good when a freeman; said Euripides, contradicting 
 the Homeric saw, 
 
 i]fj.i(Tv ycift T uperijg aTroairvrai ivpvoira Zevq 
 AvipoQ, ti, t' av jiiy Kara houXioi^ ^Ifiap ekriaLV, 
 
 Again, ' if one be a slave, he hath the same flesh as the 
 free, for no man ever was born a slave by Nature, but 
 evil fortune has enslaved his body.' *» 
 
 In opposition to this sentiment, and in accordance 
 with his firm belief in old Greek ideas, Aristotle goes 
 to work to prove that slavery is natural. One argument 
 [comes easily to hand; all Nature is arranged as a 
 >( 'hierarchy of rulers and ruled, and it is necessary to the 
 safety of society that tlie element of society which has 
 . full reason should direct the element tliat has mere 
 bodily strength. The poets had said as much: 'It is 
 right that Hellenes should rule barbarians.' (Eurip. Iph. 
 Aid. 1400.) This text proves that the idea is an orthodox 
 one ; besides, everjrthing Nature makes has some pur- 
 pose, nay, has one purpose, and to what purpose were 
 1 barbarians created except to be slaves, and wild beasts 
 except to be himted ? Again, a household is a natural 
 commimity, and to suffice the wants of this community 
 there must be instruments. Now instruments will not 
 work at the word of command, so there is absolute need 
 of living instruments. The poor man has only his ox, 
 but Nature (improving on this early state of the slave- 
 less Phocians) has provided slaves, that is, men who are 
 naturally not their own property.^^ Slaves diifer as 
 
 '8 Cf. Oncken, ' Staatslehrp dos Aristoteles.' A^ol. ii. p. 3i. 
 ■•' Athenfeus, 6. 86, 88 : 'Phocians had no slaA'es at one time. Slaves 
 may bo divided into the classes of slaves bought, slaves bred in the 
 
 much from other men as body differs from soul, and* 
 beast from man. The best thing they have to contri-/ 
 bute to the community is simply their bodily strength.' 
 
 Here we meet the difficulty that Nature has sepa- 
 rated body and soul, man and beast, by obvious unmis- ^ 
 takable differences. Now why has she not separated 
 citizens and slaves as widelv ? To answer this Aristotle 
 looks about for visible differences. First, slaves arev 
 barbarians; again, slaves have not the erect port which ^ 
 the freeman gained from the gymnasia and arms, for- 
 bidden to tlie unfree. Aristotle was unfortunate in the 
 iact that the slaves of the Greeks were not negroes, for 
 then he might have said in earnest, what Montesquieu 
 said in irony, about the impossibility of supposing that 
 God had meant to give freedom to beings with such 
 ill-formed noses. 
 
 Aristotle's search for an universally acknowledged 
 difference between the shape and semblance of slaves 
 and freemen being half a failure, he has to declare that 
 Nature 'ivlshes to make their bodies diffisrent.' But 
 Nature^ as we have seen, does not always get her own way. 
 It is for the philosophers to detect her intentions, and 
 explain them, and therefore Aristotle proclaims that Na- 
 ture has made the two classes of free and slave, though^ 
 she has only occasionally succeeded in making the dif- 
 ference visible. ('H Bs (f)vaLS fiovXsrac ^ikv tovto ttolsIu 
 TToXXa/cty, ov /xivTot hvvaiai.) A later chapter sets out 
 that the slave is indeed a man, but that his virtues 
 
 family, and slaves taken in war. The Chians were the first buyers of 
 slaves. There wore slaves attached to sacred territory, and unfree 
 land-serfs.' Cf. Hermann's 'Lehrbueh der Griechisclien AnticjuiLiiten/ 
 iii. 79-90. 
 
 I i 
 
58 
 
 DEFENCE OF SLAVERY. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY AND SLAVERY. 
 
 59 
 
 ^ only correspond to those of the part of tlie soul which 
 is obedient to reason. To soften the severity of the 
 argument, Aristotle alleges that the relation is for the 
 
 ^ good of the slave (accidentally), as well as (essentially) 
 tor the good of the master. Moreover, there is an af- 
 fection of a sort between master and slave, and through 
 his relations to the master the slave is 'a partaker In 
 common life,' as indeed he is accepted into the religious 
 services of the household to which he belongs. He^'may 
 also, if he be a free-born Greek taken in war, console 
 himself by reflecting that he is not naturally/, but only 
 casually, a slave. 
 
 In this argument Aristotle uses Kiture in his 
 favourite sense of the perfected development of insti- 
 tutions. The State is such an institution.'^^ Tlie State 
 consists of freemen at leisure, and onlv througli slave- 
 labour is that leisure to be obtained. The philosopher 
 has passed beyond even the old aristocratic sentiment 
 of Homer's time. Odysseus was a practised ship-builder 
 and husbandman, but Aristotle's burghers would disdain 
 to hew wood, and to dig they would be ashamed. Thus 
 slavery is necessary, and, like Plato in the Laws (777 D), 
 Aristotle would prefer to have barbarous slaves of various 
 speech, rather than to employ an earlier subject popu- 
 lation of Greeks, as did the Thessalians and Spartans. 
 The theory seems odious to us, because we have been 
 used to see the old institution, which in ancient society 
 had a meaning and a purpose, namely the attainment of 
 the perfect life, existing in a society with a changed con- 
 science, and a changed purpose— money- making. 
 
 »• Pol. i. L 
 
 To understand and to forgive Aristotle's opinions on 
 slavery, let us remember what Christian philosophy of 
 the best period had to say on this matter. iEgidius 
 Romanus, a pupil of S. Thomas Aquinas, reasons thus : 
 Man has fallen from the liberty he had in Paradise, has 
 lost the right to belong to himself, and is thus natu- 
 rally liable to be made a slave. Again, he is legally 
 liable tc become a slave, if he is taken captive in war. 
 The author of the 'Summa Theologice' also avers that 
 slavery though unnatural before the Fall, is now rather 
 an addition to, than a departure from, the Law of Nature.^^ 
 
 When theology aids political speculation in this 
 happy way, there is clearly a deep and powerful con- 
 viction of human nature at the bottom of the theory that 
 slavery is natural. The cause of this conviction is long 
 custom.^^ Captives taken in war pay with their liberty 
 the ransom of their lives. Again, children are naturally ^ 
 tlie proj^erty of their parents, who, in Greece, might 
 sell them till they reached the age of seven. Again, 
 certain disgraceful actions have in most ages been pun- 
 ished with loss of liberty, and in early times men 
 gambled away their bodies and their freedom, or bowed 
 their necks for bread in time of famine, or lost their 
 liberty through debt. Thus all nations have been 
 familiar with the fact of slavery, and witli the theory of 
 naturally distinct classes of men. When philosophers, 
 as culture advanced, have tried to discover the ideal, 
 and the aim of life, they have looked on it as the aim 
 of tlie best class, and have found a fitting function for 
 
 " Ad Franck, * Reformateurs ct Publicistes de TEurope,' 89, 90. 
 S. Thorn. Aq. Prim. Sec. ix. xciv. 5. 
 
 " Kemble, ' Saxons in England.' The Unfree. 
 
 {i 
 
 '> 
 
60 
 
 BETTEE SIDE OF SLAVERY. 
 
 AMBIGUITY OF TERM 'NATURE.' 
 
 61 
 
 the other classes in mere service. All this is shocking 
 to us, who neither believe in natural distinctions o'f 
 classes, nor in any universal aim of life, except that of 
 * getting on in the world.' We therefore leave all 
 nominally free.to strive towards this noble goal, which 
 we well know tliat only the few can reach. The ancients, 
 and the Christian doctors we have alluded to, were 
 equally well aware that but few could attain to their 
 very different goal -Perfection. The former accepted 
 slavery as a means towards that end, the latter knew 
 that no earthly condition made its attainment im- 
 possible. 
 
 Finally, we must remember that no one would have 
 been more bitter than Aristotle against the negro- 
 slavery on plantations of modern days. To turn the 
 servants of the noble life into tools of limitless money- 
 making, would liave been, in his view, unnatural. We 
 must remember also, that he would have held up the 
 promise and reward of freedom, to stimulate his serfs 
 ^ to virtuous lives, and, with freedom in prospect, and 
 I friendship in the meantime, with every lovely rite of 
 I divine service performed for their sake, there may have 
 been worse lives than those of the Greek slaves.-^^ ^he 
 heroic fathers of their masters had often borne the yoke, 
 when captured in battle, and the father of the Ionian 
 race, Apollo, the mediator between men and Zeus, had 
 come down to earth upon a time, and had been the !slave 
 of the king Admetus. Thus, while we may wish to see 
 
 r::^^:;^et '"'' "^'"^^ ''' '''-''' --- ^-^ --« ^^ 
 
 h 
 
 a state of things in which life shall have a noble aim, 
 towards which all sliall be equally free to strive, we 
 cannot agree with writers who allege that ' Plato and 
 Aristotle, wdth almost cynical heedlessness, sacrificed 
 the toiling multitude to a select moral oligarchy, who 
 appropriated the virtues by a kind of natural selection.' 
 If the domestic slave, the bright side of whose lot we 
 have sketched, and if the husbandman slave in his 
 subject commune, and his life under a Grecian sky, were 
 ' cynically sacrificed,' what shall we say of our owii 
 miners, and of our own starved and ignorant peasantry ? 
 
 Aristotle found that Nature was in conformity with 
 Greek practice in tlie matter of Slavery. But Nature 
 was out of conformity with Greek practice in the 
 matter of Commerce. Aristotle proves this by using 
 ' Nature ' in the reverse of his usual way. Slavery w^as/ 
 natural, because it was a finished result of the working\ 
 of circumstance and reason in human life. Money is/ 
 unnatural, because money is not a primitive institution, 
 but the result of a covenant, that is, the result of the^ 
 w^orkinof of circumstance and reason in human life. 
 
 Acquisition of all things absolutely needful, begin- 
 ning with food, wdiich Nature provides for the chicken 
 in the e^g<, is necessary, and thus barter is natural, as 
 it provides things necessary, and no more. But money is 
 neither a rtatural ^ro^wci, nor a thing of any intrinsic 
 usefulness, nor a thing to the desire and collection of 
 which there is any fixed limit, and, though dead matter, 
 it manages in some unholy fashion to breed its like, in 
 the shape of interest. Commerce employs this unnat- 
 ural substance, and commerce makes gain from the 
 
62 
 
 CONTEMPT OF TRADE. 
 
 other party to the bargain, while usury is a sort of 
 crime, like 'sweating' the coin. In this tirade against 
 money Aristotle is really taking up a position like that 
 of Rousseau. He wants to go back to a state of nature 
 in which barter supplied all natural wants, and forgets 
 that, witliout money, no civilisation like that which he 
 delighted in, and no intercourse between polished na- 
 tions, would have been practicable. He forgets, too, 
 that, even before money was invented, people might 
 find no limit to wealth-seeking. The fo)^ da-rrsTo'^s of 
 Odysseus (Od. xiv. 96) went beyond limit of his con- 
 sumption, and its aim was, not nurture, but power, as 
 he could make grants to his comitatus out of his herds 
 and flocks. In fact Aristotle is carried away by the old 
 aristocratic hatred of trade, as marked in Greece as ever, 
 it was in feudal Europe. He has the Socratic contempt 
 for any man who ' prostitutes ' his courage for gain, as 
 a soldier, or his eloquence for gain, as an orator, or his 
 wisdom, as a teacher. All such conduct makes that an 
 instrument which should be an end. The love of money 
 has brought strangers into all cities, and spoiled the 
 ethos, and confused the customs. Money has put power 
 in the hands of men of no birth, and has enabled the 
 Demos to leave his handicrafts or field-labour, and 
 attend to politics, and pay himself by confiscations. 
 For it is difficult for the poor to meet in unpaid As- 
 semblies, and, where there are no revenues, this paying 
 of Assemblies is hostile to the few, for the money must 
 come from taxes, and fines, and unjust courts of Juror<? 
 (PoL vi. 5,5.) 
 
 If commerce had not been unduly developed, if 
 
 THE COMMERCIAL DEMOCRACY. 
 
 63 
 
 Athens had not been the mart of all the world, her 
 revenue from dues and customs would have been much 
 smaller ; there would have been no great fortunes, and 
 liberal rich men ; nothing, in fact, to tempt the people 
 to desert the country for the town. She would have con- 
 tinued to be the early democracy, or polity, of husband- 
 men, not the last democracy of craftsmen and hirelings. 
 Without spectacles, gratuitous distributions of food, 
 without the feasts and ceremonies, ' sucli as no other city 
 in Greece rejoiced in,' the poor would not have crowded 
 into Athens, would not have been half supported by the\ 
 State, and enabled to make their decrees law. ^AVithout 
 the intercoiu'se of trade, they would not have spoken in 
 an accent, and worn garments, and practised customs, 
 ' mixed up out of all that Greeks and Barbarians use 
 separatel}^'^* Commerce, in short, made the laxest 
 democracy possible, and the laxest democracy was as 
 fond of fining the rich, as fond of pleasure, as given up 
 to flatterers, as the tyrant. It is easy to oppose facts 
 to these charges of Aristotle, as far as they are urged 
 against Athens ; easy to allege that the heliastic oath 
 ensured the State against any selfish injustice of the 
 people, to show that the steady undebased standard 
 of coinage proves a rare political honesty; that the 
 Nomothetse, and the trials for illegal proposals, must 
 have checked the popular will as expressed in decrees ; 
 and it may even be asserted that the Theoric fund 
 answers to our Church endowments, instead of to the 
 civil list of a Tyrant. On the other hand, many of the 
 
 " Xpn. Atli. Rep. iii. 1. and ii. 8. Pol. vi. 4, 5.:—-^ TeAeuraio 
 ^r^fioKparia. 
 
64 
 
 DECLINE OF ATHENS. 
 
 religious feasts were sTridsroL soprai, innovations on tlie 
 old religion, and were pampered wliile the ancient rites 
 were stinted. The evidence of Isocrates, Xenophon, and 
 the Comedians is on the side of the philosophcal foes of 
 ultimate democracy. The philosophers preferred to 
 look at the dark, the modem historians enjoy tlie 
 bright, side of the character of the great city, whose 
 very degeneracy was a not unlovely scene of common 
 enjoyment, of noble pleasures, and artistic luxury. 
 The enjoyment was too incessant, the art too luxu- 
 rious, the life too bright and variously blended to 
 last. ' The constitution of things proved somehow 
 to be against it;' but this was only half the reason 
 of the censure freely spoken by Plato, Aristotle, 
 and Xenophon. They echoed, in a stately way, t]ie 
 grumbling of rich men, who, on the whole, were pro- 
 bably not ill-satisfied with their native city, which 
 declined because 'everything which has a beginning 
 has also an end,' and because even the city that was 
 ' the Rose of Greece ' had its term like other flowers. 
 (Lysippus ap. Dicsearch. p. 141.) 
 
 XII. 
 
 Aristotle's ideal state. 
 
 There is nothing more characteristic in Greek political 
 feeling than the almost religious attachment to the 
 State. The Athenians of Pericles' time considered their 
 very lives not their own, but the possession of the City, 
 
 IDEAL STATE SUBSERVES THE INDIVIDUAL. 65 
 
 through which alone their lives were, in their eyes, free 
 and worth keeping.^* We have already pointed out the 
 many causes that broke up this feeling of devotion, and 
 proofs of the change in sentiment may be found in 
 Aristotle's conception of the ideal State. It is true 
 that no one speaks out more clearly than be as to the/ 
 supreme position of the city, which is, as he puts it^ 
 prior in idea to the family and the citizen. The family j 
 and the individual only exist, he almost seems to hold, asl \^ 
 factors which are at last to compose that ultimate and, 
 perfect whole, the State. Yet when we come to examine ^ 
 his ideal State (/car svxv^\ we cannot but detect traces of 
 a wish to make the State an organism to subserve the 
 happiness of the individual.^^ It is true that, in af- 
 fording an environment, and all outward appliances of 
 perfect happiness, as well as in supplying all the human 
 relations within which perfect virtue may be exercised, 
 the State also attains to what Aristotle thinks its own 
 proper perfection. But it cannot be concealed that 
 Aristotle's conception of perfect happiness is some- 
 what self-regarding. His citizens, no less than thef 
 citizens of Plato, are all to be philosophers, and thein 
 bliss is a philosophic satisfoetion. Now a State which' 
 made this philosophic, nay almost mystic, ecstasy pos- 
 sible for all its citizens, would, in practice, have been 
 likely to slip out of the active inter-political life of 
 Hellas, and would have been prosperous only if it were 
 'possible that a state should be planted somewhere in 
 
 ** Pol. viii. 1, 4. The same view expressed by Aristotle. 
 
 *« Curtius' History of Greece, v. 205 (Engl. Transl.). ' The spiritual 
 life of the Individual became the standard whereby to judge of the 
 Commonwealth.' 
 
66 
 
 POLITICS AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 A 
 
 
 isolation.' Thus, with all his caution, Aristotle, like 
 Plato, cannot reconcile himself to the natural and spon- 
 taneous ideas of Hellas. 
 
 There are one or two expressions in the ' Republic' of 
 Plato which strike a kind of key-note, prolonged with va- 
 riations, in the 'Ideal State' of Aristotle. Plato writes: 
 ' If Philosophy ever finds in the State that perfection 
 which she herself is, then it will be seen that she is in 
 truth divine ;' and again : 'The question is how the study 
 of philosophy may be so ordered as to be consistent with 
 the preservation of the State.' ^^ Now Aristotle, too, con- 
 jceives'an End (tAos) which shall be the same for the 
 /perfect man and the perfect State,' a standard of virtue 
 which shall be the same for the individual and the State.'^* 
 This end is attained, and this standard reached, by those 
 only who possess ' the good things of the spirit that are 
 the more precious even as they are the more exceeding 
 abundant,' in contrast with outward wealth, which has 
 a natural limit. Such men, and a state composed of 
 such men, are alone to be called happy, nay blessed 
 with a bliss beyond all the mere good repute and praise 
 that is given to justice.^^ 'No man eulogises happiness 
 as men praise justice, but he calls it " blessed," as some- 
 thing better and more divine.' Again, in the same 
 passage of 'The Ethics,' he says: 'We hold the Gods to 
 be blessed and happy, and even so we call the most 
 divine of men blessed.' Compare the words in 'The 
 Ethics,' where the Deity is adduced as an example of 
 •the blessed estate resulting from the full possession of 
 virtue and wisdom, and an existence in harmonv with 
 
 " Rep. 497 C. " Pol. vii. 15. »» Eth. i. 12, 4. 
 
 DIVINE HAPPINESS. 
 
 6t 
 
 these. From these texts it follows that the ideal State 
 of Aristotle, with its citizens who are called 'blessed' 
 {(xaKupLOi), does not rest on mere political and moral 
 virtue. Moral virtue is a thing not beyond the reach 
 of praise, not too rare and holy for comparison with 
 other conditions, and for encomium. The teXos-, the 
 ultimate end of the happy life, is, by its very essence, 
 unattainable in the merely righteous existence of the 
 law-respecting citizen. It is like the happiness of the 
 Gods (Ethics, x. 8, 7), who ' alone are all blessed, yet 
 not througli a life of moral practice. For what actions 
 of morality can we assign to them— acts of justice ? 
 There is sometliing ludicrous in the conception of their 
 keeping covenants, and making exchanges — .... acts 
 of generosity— to whom will they make gifts?'— and 
 so on. Yet there is an activity of self-conscious life 
 in the blessed beings, who do not sleep like Endymion, 
 which can be nothing else tlian the ecstatic contempla- 
 tion called Osoipla. Now (Eth. x. 8, 8) the life of 
 mortals is only happy so far as it has a kind of likeness 
 to this divine activity, wo-r slrj hv svhaifiovia OsoipLa 
 res. 
 
 From this conception of Happiness, apart from 
 action, which is to be the portion of the perfect man in 
 the perfect State, it follows that Aristotle, like Plato, 
 wants to devise a State which may be preserved in full 
 civic life, while at the same time it affords a milieu for 
 the mystic life. In this polity the philosopher will not 
 be a forlorn stranger, but will find the satisfaction of the 
 civic and political sentiment of Greece, and also the 
 enjoyable and satisfying activity of the divine part of 
 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 A SPIRITUAL CITY. 
 
 his nature ; will, in fact, live the best life of practice, 
 and the blessed life too, in the society of his peers 
 {6/jLoloi),^^ In such a city his happiness will not be sub- 
 ject to the reproach of do-nothingness, with which the 
 philosophers in the ordinary States of Greece were 
 justly assailed. How then are these peers in philosophy, 
 this company for the leading of the best life, to be 
 fitted with the ')(ppriyia or necessary outward appliances 
 and goods of a free, temperate, generous existence? 
 How is their city to be ordered and governed ? 
 
 These are the questions discussed in the 7th and 
 8th books of the ' Politics ' of Aristotle. Keeping his aim 
 always before us, it is easy to understand the limitations 
 of his ideal State. It is neither to be a state organised 
 merely with a view to the fostering of martial valour — an 
 encampment, as it were, like Sparta — nor a commercial 
 city, eager for wealth, and making itself all men's mart, 
 like Athens. From the example of the Spartan disci- 
 pline Aristotle borrows the idea that it is possible to 
 keep a city constant to an aim, possible to enforce sim- 
 plicity of life, and uniformity of drill and of education. 
 From Plato he continues the idea of a city of philoso^ 
 phers, but, unlike Plato, he attempts to bring in no' 
 innovation, to establish no institution, such as commu- 
 nity in wives, children, and property, which experience 
 shows to be contrary to the universal instincts of hu-, 
 manitv. Thus we mav conceive of the ideal State of 
 Aristotle as almost Platonic in its aim, almost Spartan 
 in the strictness of its discipline, but always limited by 
 
 *" Pol. vii. 2, 1 ; Pol. rii. 2, 5. Ka9' V tol^iv k^lv bffriffovv ipicra 
 rpaTTOi Kol CvV /uaKaptws. 
 
 LEISURE SECURED. 
 
 69 
 
 the thought of conditions which history proves to be 
 necessary, and widened by the desire of liberal enjoy- 
 ment. ^ 
 In the first place, then, the founder of a city of 
 men who are to be peers in their capacity for leading u^ 
 the highest life, must be allowed to choose citizens of a 
 noble nature, men of spirit and intelligence. Again, 
 they must not be too numerous, as a large state is not 
 easily kept to its discipline, nor do the citizens find it 
 possible to gain the requisite knowledge of each other's 
 capacity for rule, while strangers slip unnoticed into 
 the roll of citizens.^^ States, too, have their natural 
 and necessary limit, like all other things, in art and 
 nature. The natural limit of a state is found in the 
 number of citizens necessary to provide the political 
 conditions of sufficiency (avrapKsia) in every respect. 
 The extent of land must be just so great as to support^ 
 this number of citizens and their families in a life of 
 freedom, leisure, and tempei^ance; to feed their agri- i^ 
 cultural labourers, who are to be unfree ; and to supply 
 provisions for the priesthoods and sacrifices of the Gods. 
 Thus the ofioioL are all landholders, and so are nobles. 
 As nobles at leisure, they will be enabled to live the 
 higher life of excellence, on which their happiness de- 
 pends. Any form of labour, or of commerce, would 
 absorb the leisure absolutely necessary for the happy 
 and completely virtuous life. ' The citizens must not 
 live the life of traders, nor of artisans, for that existence 
 is ignoble, and opposed to virtue, nor must our citizens / 
 be husbandmen, for there is absolute need of entire ' 
 
 *' Scrutiny at Athens generally detected crowds of aliens. 
 
70 
 
 PROPEIiTY EQUALISED. 
 
 leisure for the development of virtue and for the conduct 
 of political affairs.' 
 
 Men who provide, either as artisans, tradesfolk, or 
 husbandmen, for the wants of the citizens, are, as being 
 incapable, ex hypothesis of the precise life, no element in 
 the State (fiopcov), but only conditions out of which the 
 material structure of the State is built. The full citizens 
 are, so far, in the position of the full citizens of Sparta, 
 but their leisure is not given up to warlike training alone, 
 but to culture. Their agricultural labourers are to be un- 
 like the Helots, for they are to be, as far as possible, men 
 who do not share the same blood and speech, nor are they 
 to have the warlike valour of the Helots. The land is to 
 be so divided that each citizen shall have two lots, one 
 near the border of the State, like the properties called 
 scTXaTial in Attica, the other near the city. Thus the 
 citizens will all be equal in their interests as well as in 
 their training, and none of the demes will oppose a war 
 because it ravages their estates, and leaves unharmed 
 the lands of demes nearer the town. On private lands 
 the slaves are to be private property ; on the folk-lands 
 and temple-lands, public property. The many dangers 
 which arise from inequality of property, from a x^pvyia 
 which is not ovfifisTpos, are thus in part provided against. 
 Landed property is equalised, and only from his land 
 can the citizen who is true to the theory of natural 
 ivealth derive riches. Again, no citizen is exposed to 
 the risk of losing his franchise through inability to 
 'provide for his own meal at the common tables. The 
 subscription to these, by an improvement on the Spartan 
 practice, is defrayed out of the produce of the folk-land. 
 
 COMMEECE AND THE SEA. 
 
 71 
 
 Thus leisure is secured to all the citizens. There re- 
 mains, however, a danger to equality of wealth, in the 
 chances of making large fortunes by commerce. Thus the 
 question is raised, shall the ideal State be near the sea ? 
 Without sharing Plato's horror of the 'bitter, 
 brackish element, filling the streets with merchants 
 and shopkeepers, and begetting in the souls of men 
 uncertain and unfaithfid ways,' Aristotle yet keeps in 
 mind his own doctrine that ' a naval power is ever demo- 
 cratic' He is anxious to keep out strangers nurtured 
 in alien laws, to check the overflowing population of a 
 seaport, and yet to have the means of importing the 
 necessaries of civilisation. His State is to be a mart 
 for her own good, not for others' profit, and thus requires 
 a harbour near the city, yet not too near. Again, he 
 will have a navy, if his State is to be a leading State 
 in Grreece, but the vqvtikos ox^os shall no more share 
 in the State than the husbandmen. The officers and 
 fighting men on board ship alone are to be freemen, and 
 of the ruling class. Aristotle can allow himself this 
 license of fancy in a State Kar evxrjv^ and he finds an 
 instance of the possibility of an unfree naval force in 
 the case of Heraclea, in Pontus, where the Perioeci 
 manned the navy. Indeed, the oarsmen, even in Athens, 
 must as a rule have been slaves : those who rowed at Argi- 
 nusse were rewarded with their freedom. The demand for 
 slave seamen shows that Aristotle's ideal State is based, as 
 much as Plato's, on the existence of supposed natural dis- 
 tinctions among classes of men. Plato frankly proposes 
 to get these distinctions generally admitted, by telling 
 the ' noble lie' that there are gold, silver, and iron species 
 
72 
 
 CASTES. 
 
 of men. Aristotle backs his conception of exclusive divi- 
 sions, proposed in Book I., by the historical instance of 
 ) Castes in Egypt.^^ 6 Apparently it is not to-day, nor 
 even lately, that the discovery has been made by theorists 
 bn constitutional government, that the State should be 
 marked out into castes (hereditary classes), and tliat the 
 ) element which fights should be separate from that 
 which tills the soil. For this is the case even now in 
 Egypt, and also in Crete ; Sesostris, it is said, having 
 legislated to this effect for Egypt, and Minos for Crete.' 
 In the same way Plato, in the 'Timaeus,' makes the 
 Egyptian priest say to Solon, ' If you compare our laws 
 with your own, you will find that many of ours are the 
 counterpart of yours as they were in the olden time. 
 In the first place, there is the caste of priests, which is 
 separated from all the others ; next there are the arti- 
 ficers, who exercise their several trades by themselves, 
 and without admixture of any other ; and also there is 
 the class of shepherds, and that of hunters, as well as 
 that of husbandmen ; and you will observe, too, that 
 the warriors in Egypt are separated from all the other 
 classes, and are commanded by the law only to engage 
 in war.' 63 x^ere seems very little reason to believe 
 that a rigid caste system ever existed in Greece, though 
 we hear of families among which certain crafts, and 
 music, and the performance of sacred rites were heredi- 
 tary. But the idea, of natural distinctions among 
 men, distinctions which Nature did not quite succeed in 
 marking by physical differences, was congenial and useful 
 
 •2 Pol. vii. 10, 1-6; Herodot. ii. 164-167. 
 " Plato, Timaeus, 24 A. 
 
 THE SOVEKEIGN. 73 
 
 to both Aristotle and Plato, who, believing that events 
 return in cycles, might easily look forward to a revival 
 of a system of castes. 
 
 Aristotle has thus provided against most of the un- 
 toward wants that caused jealousies in Greek cities, 
 and disturbed the happy life with politics that threat- 
 ened to subvert the city. He has, as far as possible,^ 
 
 equalised possessions, taken care that there shall be no 
 extremes of riches and poverty, has secured leisure for 
 all true citizens, excluded evil foreign influences, and now 
 he comes to the question of the sovereignty. Who is to 
 hold power ? Clearly only the host, the men at arms. 
 ' Those who have weapons in their hands have also in 
 their hands the permanence or non-permanence of the 
 Constitution.' This cannot include the democratic light- 
 armed troops {^ItlXt] 8vva/jLcs), Within the host he draws 
 a natural distinction, and assigns the deliberative func- 
 tions to the old, who have practical wisdom. The claim 
 'to rule and be ruled in turn' is thus satisfied in a 
 way ; the young warriors will mature into counsellors. 
 The old Greek idea of ol y^povras (the elder men) — the 
 idea of authority going with age, which is also said to 
 be implied in the words 'eorl ' (elder) and 'ceorl' 
 (younger man), is thus maintained by Aristotle. 
 
 The city in which Aristotle's burghers are to live is 
 to be fortunate in respect of situation. All the land must 
 be easily surveyed from its burg, and the territory 
 must lie fairly towards the sea, and be hard of access to 
 foes. The town itself should face the east and ' take 
 the morning ' and the morning air. There should be 
 springs of well water, and the houses should be built 
 
 i 
 
74 
 
 SITE OF THE CITY. 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 75 
 
 on several places of strength. The old arrangement of 
 narrow labyrinthine streets was safer in war, but the 
 new regular fashion of laying out a town which Hippo- 
 damus applied to the Piraeus, leaving old Athens /ta/cw^ 
 sppvfiOTo^rjfisv't] hiCL irjv apxaioTTjTa, is fairer and more 
 commodious.^^ The two plans may be combined. Walls 
 there must surely be, and means of encountering the 
 new artillery and machines of war, while guard- 
 towers on the walls will be occupied by members of tlie 
 various messes. On a farseen height will be placed the 
 common halls of the magistrates and priesthood, and 
 close under their eyes the meetingplace of the free- 
 men, not to be profaned by buying and selling. Near 
 by will be the gymnasia of the elders, but at a 
 distance the market-place and seats of the money- 
 changers, and close to the mart the messroom of the 
 magistrates wlio see to police and decide in suits about 
 contracts. 
 
 Now the citizens who are to dwell in this ideal city, 
 and be like the inhabitants of the Isles of the Blessed, 
 will above all men need to practise philosophy, tem- 
 /perance, justice. Other States either do not school their 
 people in these qualities or only in the two last, so far as 
 they go to make up martial virtue. Thus the Spar- 
 tans have rusted in disuse, in spite of their attention to 
 training, and have even been defeated in war, and lost 
 th empire for which they toiled. Aristotle has chosen 
 citizens of a noble nature, and now wishes Reason to 
 mould that nature, through education and habit, into a 
 fitness for the virtuous leisure which is the crown of 
 
 ^* Dicaearch. Fragm. 140. 
 
 life. Arguing from his own psychology he proposes to f 
 educate the body first, then the passions, then the intel- ? ^ 
 lect, as each severally developes. Then follow a variety 
 of minute precepts concerned with the breeding of chil- 
 dren, the age of marriage, and restraints on population. 
 These are almost as strange to modern usage and senti- 
 ment as the precepts of Plato were to Aristotle and the 
 contemporaries of Aristotle. We are scarcely concerned 
 with the sensible rule that babies should be allowed id 
 cry as much as they like, and unhappily we have only a'- i^ 
 
 fragment of the Aristotelian theory of education, after\ C^^y 
 the boy, at the age of seven, is removed from the caref 
 of vromen. The early education is mainly corrective ; \ 
 the child is to see and hear nothing slavish or impure, 
 to listen to none of the foul tales, and behold none of ^ 
 the fouler orgies, of heathenism. From the age of seven ' 
 to fourteen, and from fourteen to twenty-one, the youth- 
 ful citizens are to be subjected to a public and uniform 
 system of schooling, of which Sparta alone gave an exam- 
 ple. As the End of the city is one, so shall its training be 
 one in gymnastics, music, letters, and design. No^ study 
 is_ to be specialised ; gymnastic shall not make the 
 lads brutal, as in Sparta, nor music make them pro- 
 fessionals. Like Plato, and like the Pythagoreans^ 
 Aristotle recognises that music has a moral quality and 
 influence on character. He denounces the new musici ^ 
 with its ' wonderful feats,' and praises the educational 
 music, of which Plutarch says that the Greeks had lost' 
 the secret. We find this theory hard to understand, 
 even if we remember that the harmonies revealed in 
 music appeared to the Pythagoreans the mystic echo of 
 
76 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 PARTITION OF LAND. 
 
 77 
 
 the coi-t^espondencesofNatxiTe. Again, both Aristotle and 
 lamblichus in his Life of Pythagoras speak of the healing 
 power (tarpf/a) of music in a way which may be derived 
 ^ partly from old ideas about magical chants, partly from 
 the study of instances like that of Saul. Thirdly, in early 
 {Greece, words, dance, and music went together, and 
 yould not be divided, so that to introduce new music 
 meant the introduction of new words in place of sacred 
 hymns, new dances, and perhaps new gods to be wor- 
 shipped in the new- fashion. We know that Aristotle 
 would have retained some music for its moral effect, and 
 more varied strains for mere delight in leisure. For the 
 rest, his ideal State is left incomplete, because the por- 
 tion of his work is lost in which he describes tlie educa- 
 tion which should ' constrain and direct youth towards 
 the right reason which the law affirms.' ^* 
 
 XIII. 
 
 LAND-TENURE IN GIIEECE. 
 
 In writing of the State of Greece before the (tvvoUktls, 
 or establishment of the city, it has been said that when 
 the Greeks still lived in villages, their land-tenure was 
 probably like that of other early village communities. 
 Keasoning merely from analogy, we should expect to 
 find that the village life in Greece, like the village life 
 in India, in Kussia, in early England, in Java, among 
 the Arabs, and so on, implied, at first, the communal 
 
 " Laws, 659, 660. 
 
 tenure of land. Each house-father would have his own 
 enclosure round his homestead, the beginning of several 
 property in land. This spot would be his very own, and 
 within the sacred Epfco9 the will of the father would be 
 law. Each householder would share with his kinsmen 
 of the village, in the right to till his equal portion of 
 the arable land of the village, to cut wood in the forest, 
 and to feed his cattle on the common pasture. In very 
 distant times it is probable that the lots of arable land 
 were shifted at stated or uncertain periods, as popu- 
 lation varied, and as one part of the territory was 
 left fallow, and others taken in due rotation into 
 culture. On this system there would be no several 
 property except the enclosure, the tun or spfcos. It is 
 probable, however, that, as certain husbandmen acquired 
 greater skill than their fellows in agriculture, they 
 would object to the constant repartition of the soil ; ^^ to 
 them, as to the Russian peasants now, the partition 
 would seem le paiiage noir. They would urge that 
 they had improved their plot, and that the system of 
 repartition was unjust to their skill, and expenditure 
 of time, manure, and labour. As this view would pro- 
 bably be pressed by the more powerful men of the vil- 
 lage, it would result in a permanent partition of the 
 arable land. This partition would be in intention 
 equal, but it is likely that some families of distinc- 
 tion would absorb more than their equal share. At all 
 events, supposing such a division to have been made, it 
 is pretty clear that land and freedom would go together. 
 
 " Stubbs, Constitutional History of England, i. 52 ; Laveleye, De 
 La Propriete, p. 13. 
 
78 
 
 THE GOLDEN WOULD. 
 
 The ethel means both the plot of land and the freedom, 
 and in contrast with the state of landless men, the' 
 nobility, of the landowner. This process of develop- 
 ment of land-tenure, or something like this, is so 
 general a fact in history that we should be tempted, ii 
 pHori, to conclude that it occurred among the Greeks, 
 even if we found no surviving traces of it in the early 
 laws of Greece. 
 
 If it is possible to hold this view of the early state 
 of land-tenure in Greece, many questions which are now 
 obscure may be answered with some plausibility, and 
 the answer, even if vague, will be at least intelligible. 
 The traditions of a golden age, when there was not 
 
 fiyus in agris 
 Qui regeret certis finibus arva, lapis, 
 
 will seem to be more than a dream of poets. We shall 
 partly understand the origin of the tradition of the 
 Lycurgean repartition of the soil of Sparta ; we shall 
 have some notion of the real condition of the Athenian 
 husbandmen whom Solon relieved from debt ; and we 
 shall see that the early lawgivers, who decreed that the 
 lot of land should never be sold, and that Aristotle and 
 Plato, in making full citizenship depend on possession 
 of the soil, had facts of early history to support their 
 laws and back their theories. 
 
 Before going on to such conclusions we must notice 
 some valuable opinions on the other side of the ques- 
 tion. M. Fustel de Coulanges, in his work on ' La 
 Cite Antique,' writes that ' the populations of Greece 
 and Eome from the earliest periods always recognised 
 
 EEDISTKIBUTION AMONG ARYANS. 
 
 79 
 
 private property in land. There never was a time 
 when the soil was in common use, and we find no trace 
 of the German system of annual partition.' ^"^ Again, 
 Mr. Cox, in his ' History of Greece,' brings his ac- 
 quaintance with Aryan customs to bear on the question : 
 'All the conditions of primitive Aryan society were, 
 as we have seen, unfavourable to, if not altogether incor- 
 sistent with, the equal subdivision of real property. '^^ 
 
 A different view is that of Sir Henrv Maine : ' There 
 appears to be no country inhabited by an Aryan race in 
 which traces do not remain of the ancient periodical 
 redistribution;' and 'the original distribution of arable 
 land was always into exactly equal portions correspond- 
 ing to the number of free families in the township,' and 
 ' the periodical redistribution ended in perpetuity.' ^^ 
 It is our object to show that tlie early lawgivers of 
 Greece either lived in a time when the almost sacred 
 tenure of tlie family lot, now held in perpetuity, was 
 being broken up, or that they looked back to the tradi- 
 tion of such a time, and tried to restore it. 
 
 The traces of any preceding epoch of periodical re- 
 distribution are extremely faint. It existed among 
 some of the islands, where it might be explained away 
 as a vestige of Pelasgian practice. It is hinted at b}'' 
 Aristotle as having survived at Tarentum, but the 
 reference is very doubtful."^^ Some authors see in the 
 very ancient common meals, or avao-LTia, the record 
 of a time when land was cultivated in severalty, and 
 the produce divided ; as Aristotle says, ' certain of the 
 
 " La Cite Antique, p. 62. "" History of Greece, i. 80. 
 
 " Maine's Village Communities, pp. 81, 82. '" Pol. vi. 5, 10. 
 
80 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 barbarians use.' Again, there is the fact that, when 
 a piece of land was sold at Thurii each of the neigh- 
 bours who was a witness was paid a small piece of 
 money, as if the community had once possessed a right 
 in the land, for which thev now received a nominal 
 satisfaction. This would be the survival from a time 
 when, as in Hindostan, the village community had a 
 veto on the sale of property.^' These are but slight 
 hints of communal property, and we would not press 
 the re- equalisation (dvofidXcoa-is) of Phaleas; but the 
 traces of an early and equal division in perpetuiti/ are 
 
 more convincing. 
 
 Much the most famous instance of an early equal divi- 
 sion of soil is the redistribution attributed by Plutarch 
 to Lycurgus. Mr. Grote has shown how many difficul- 
 ties are involv^ed in this storv as it has reached us7* 
 Whenever we have an authentic record of Sparta at all, 
 we find the complaint that ' wealth makes the man,' 
 and that there are extremes of riches and poverty. 
 It need not follow, to be sure, that wealth is equal 
 where arable land is equally divided ; but Mr. Grote 
 shows how very vague and untrustworthy is the tradition 
 even of a redistribution. 
 
 M. Laveleye, on the other side, appears to think 
 that tliough this re-distribution cannot be properly 
 attributed to Lycurgus, yet there remained a tradition 
 
 '' Liveleye, op. cit. 164, 165; Stubbs, Constit. Hist. i. 85; Senchus 
 Mor. iii. 53. 
 
 "^ Grote, ii. 530-540; Hermann's Lebrbuch der Griechiscben Anti- 
 qnitaten, vol. i. p. 146 (ed. 1874). 'Lyknrg hatte eine crleicbe und 
 bleibende Yertheilung des p^esammten Grundeigenthums in eine Auzahl 
 untheilbarer und unverausserlicher Loose angeordnet.' 
 
 LYCURGUS. 
 
 81 
 
 of an original equal distribution which was attached to 
 the name of the great lawgiver.^^ In support of the 
 existence of such a tradition he quotes Plato (' Laws,' 
 684). M. Laveleye's words are : « We may pretty con- 
 fidently discern the part of tradition and legend. 
 There was an almost equal distribution of land UaorrjTa 
 TLvd) in the Dorian invasion— that is, the part of 
 history. (See Plato, ' Laws,' 684.) But the repar- 
 tition of territory attributed to Lycurgus is the part 
 of legend.' It may be doubted, however, whether the 
 words laoTijra riv^ refer to the Dorian conquerors, 
 though Hermann also relies on this text. Again, Plato 
 need not be quoting a tradition, he may be framing a 
 hypothesis. So far we are entirely in the dark as to 
 what really happened. A legend of a 7'6-distribution 
 made by Lycurgus, a legend not noticed by our earlier 
 authorities, does not so much as prove that there existed 
 a tradition of an equal distribution made at the time 
 of the Dorian Conquest. 
 
 It is therefore curious to find Miiller saying in his 
 history of the Dorians, that ' the united testimony of 
 all authors proves that the property of the Spartans 
 was set out in equal lots,' and that this division was in 
 strictness only a lower grade of community of pro- 
 perty.^* 
 
 In the midst of this confusion there is one certain 
 and important fact. The number of full citizens of 
 Sparta had once been eight or nine thousand, and 
 in the time of Aristotle it had dwindled to one 
 
 '» Laveleye, op. cit. 161, 162, cf. note. 
 '* Miiller, Dorians, ii. 200. 
 
 a 
 
 i 
 
82 
 
 EQUALITY OF LOTS. 
 
 thousand. Coincident with this decline of the num- 
 bers of full citizens was the concentration of real pro- 
 perty in few hands. There had been an age when eight 
 or nine thousand Spartans had land enough to provide 
 for their subscriptions to the common meals, which sub- 
 scription was the 6po9 tyjs TroXiTslaf, If we allow then 
 eight or nine thousand lots for these eight or nine thou- 
 sand men, and allow for the pasture land, forests, and 
 wastes, as well as for the property of the Periceci, it is 
 probable that very little arable ground was left over 
 in Laconia to form estates going much beyond the 
 limit of equality. There need not have been ab- 
 solute equality of extent or value. The royal demesne 
 may have been large, but there must have been a 
 nearer approach to equality than Mr. Grote would 
 allow at the time when Sparta was rich in full 
 citizens.^* Mr. Grote has observed that, in very early 
 times, we hear of rich men and poor men in Sparta, 
 but it by no means follows that the rich had much 
 larger lots than the poor. Their greater wealth, if we 
 judge by the analogy of Celtic Ireland, may have lain 
 in cattle, pastured on the common pasture ground, 
 which is not said to have been meted out at all, and 
 which certainly was not meted out among the 
 Germans.^^ 
 
 Again, Aristotle says that Plato would need a limit- 
 
 '* Grote, ii. 557. Compare Miiller, ii. 33, where the lots are certainly 
 large enough. 
 
 '• For Spartans rich in cattle, compare Athenseus, iv. 141, and 
 for vealth in heroic times, Odyssey, xiv. 96, 104. The lot offered as 
 a rich reward to Meleager was a re'/ievos of fifty acres, in the plain of 
 Calydon. Iliad, ix. 679. 
 
 TRADITION OE INVENTION. 
 
 83 
 
 less territory, 'Babylonian Lands,' to support his 
 5,000 idle citizens. But the soil of Sparta supported, 
 at one time, more than 5,000, and there must have been 
 only a small margin of land left for the larger estates 
 which the noblest families and the king might manage 
 to secure. Thus, on the whole, we find more than what 
 Mr. Grote calls ' possible exaggeration of a small fact ' 
 in the late traditions of early equality of landed estates 
 in Sparta. We have both the fact that many thousands 
 of citizens had a sufficiency of land, and again, we have 
 the analogy of other equal divisions of land by most 
 early conquering peoples. It is therefore possible that 
 the confused traditions of equality may have been a 
 refraction from the past, as M. Laveleye suggests, per- 
 verted into an account of a Lycurgean redistribution, 
 rather than, as Mr. Grote holds, a myth suggested by 
 the desires of the disenfranchised citizens at the time of 
 Agis. At the least, we may say, that if the original 
 Dorian allotments were not equal, or nearly equal, the 
 Dorian Conquest was an exception to what Sir Henry 
 Maine calls a very general law. 
 
 We must remember, too, that land might in later 
 times be concentrated in few hands without having 
 been sold. The decay of Sparta showed itself in the > 
 disproportionate number of daughters born, and the 
 kinsmen who married these daughters would fall heirs 
 to the lots of the family whose males were extinct, and 
 three generations of this sort of thing would make an 
 immense difference in landed property. 
 
 » 2 
 
84 
 
 LAND-TENUKE IN ATTICA. 
 
 THE EUPATEIDiE. 
 
 85 
 
 ii 
 
 EARLY LAND-TENURE IN ATTICA. 
 
 The condition of land-tenure in early Attica is even 
 more difficult to understand than in the case of Sparta. 
 In Sparta, and in Dorian communities generally, we 
 have the traces of an undoubted conquest ; the land 
 naturally falls into the hands of the conquerors, and 
 they, in their contempt for husbandry, live on the 
 rents paid by the vanquished peoples, who are reduced 
 to various stages of servitude. But in Attica the 
 people were proud of their immemorial freedom from 
 invasion. It is only through the mists of mythology 
 tliat we guess at a conquest in which the lonians played 
 the part of Dorians. When we come to times on the 
 threshold of history, to the age of Solon, the land ques- 
 tion is one of the chief social difficulties. We find an 
 impoverished class of husbandmen, who seem to have 
 been owners of the land, because we hear much of the 
 mortgages on their estates; and, again, we read of 
 ifCTTjfiopLOL, apparently tenant farmers, who paid either 
 a sixth as rent, or who only kept a sixth of the produce 
 of their farm for themselves. Now the Helots paid a 
 fifth of the produce to their Spartan lords, and there 
 seems nothing so very crushing in the contribution of a 
 sixth, as to account for the distress of Athenian farmers, 
 while it is impossible to suppose that the cultivators 
 could afford to retain only one-sixth, and to take all 
 the expenses of husbandry. Who then, in the first 
 place, were the landlords of the ifCTrjfiopioL ? Boeckh 
 says the Hopletes possessed all the land, in which case 
 
 the mortgages prove that many of the Hoplete class 
 were indebted to others in the same rank. There must 
 apparently have been both small and large holders, and 
 it is usual to suppose that the Eupatridse were the 
 large holders. Now some writers, as Dr. Curtius, make 
 the Eupatridse include all the 360 clans divisible into 
 10,800 houses.'^ As this number of full citizens is at 
 least as great as the highest number ever attributed to 
 Sparta, we return to the old difficulty: there could 
 scarcely have been any land left for large estates, owned 
 by the oligarchy. This view also seems to imply 
 that clansmen and Eupatridae are interchangeable 
 terms, an idea disclaimed by Dr. Curtius in his appendix. 
 We hear in point of fact of clans of no consideration.'^^ 
 Again, we find a doubt whether the EupatridoB were 
 autochthonous, or, on the other hand, foreign houses of 
 distinction.^^ Perhaps the easiest way to understand 
 the whole position is to remember that the awoiKtais of 
 Athens was a gathering together of several towns, not 
 of villages. Each town must have had its own clans, 
 and it is consistent with analogy to suppose that one of 
 the clans in each town was that in which the blood of 
 the race was supposed to run purest — was the royal clan 
 from which rulers were chosen.^^ When Theseus united 
 all the towns, Plutarch says ^^ that he chose out and set 
 apart the kingly clans of each from the yeomen and 
 the labourers. To such Eupatridae, as to Laertes in 
 
 " Curtius, vol. i. pp. 307, 476, 478 (Engl. Transl.). 
 " 76Vrj &So|a. Etym. Mag. 760, ap. Meier de Gent. Att. p. 10. 
 '* Suidas in verb. 
 
 ^ Maine, History of Early Institutions, p. 132. 
 "* Plutarch, Theseus, 25. itpwros airoKpivas x^^P^^ euTrarpiSas koI 
 y€(i>lii6povs Koi hjfjiiovpyovs. >, 
 
86 
 
 GREEK SAER AND DAER TENURE ? 
 
 iili 
 
 '111 
 
 Homer, it would be a discreditable thing to live in 
 the country. But these noble houses would not in- 
 clude more than a small proportion of the members 
 of 751/7;, who would still, very likely, stick by their 
 original lots in the country. Everything would tend, 
 however, to raise the town dwellers in wealth and' 
 culture; indeed, the very fact of chiefship implies 
 wealth ; and if we may look on Solon's law prohibiting 
 the acquisition of landed property beyond a certain ex- 
 tent, as a trace of an old inalienability of lots, we may 
 guess that the town nobles had begun to covet more than 
 their mere lot of land. Now let us suppose that though 
 the nobles' lots were originally little larger than those 
 of other members of clans, yet that the nobles were 
 wealthier in cattle ; let us consider the absolute necessity 
 of a large stock of cattle for rude agriculture ; and we 
 can understand that the Eupatrid^ might allot some of 
 their superfluous stock, on onerous conditions of rent, 
 to free but poor landholders of the clans. ^2 We find 
 this kind of tenure, where land was easily obtained, 
 but the means of tillage was hard to get, producing 
 various grades of debt and of clientship in early Ire- 
 land.83 ' In very early times land was a drug, while capi- 
 tal was extremely perishable, added to with the greatest 
 difficulty and lodged in very few hands.' Thus, while 
 the land was the tenant's, he was obliged to take capital 
 (cattle) from the chief, and if he took much was a daer.or 
 scarcely free man, paying heavy rent, if he took little, a 
 saer tenant, paying less rent, for stock, not for land. 
 
 !! ' ?^®^ °^ ^^^y oxen.' Nasse, Land Community, p. 43. 
 " Maine s Hist, of Early Institutions, passim. 
 
 SOLON'S REFORM. 
 
 87 
 
 For chiefs read Eupatridse ; for saer and daer men 
 of their clans read free yeoofiopoc ; and we have an in- 
 telligible account of how the poverty, debt, and servile 
 condition of men who were still landowners arose in 
 Attica. It might be in such an age of the extreme 
 importance of cattle that the primeval Athenian law 
 against killing oxen was made. I should be inclined, 
 however, to refer this law, both in Attica and India, to 
 another cause. Be this as it may, the introduction of 
 money, not long before Solon's time, must have compli- 
 cated matters, and the mortgage pillars may be conceived 
 of either as records of an early attempt on the part 
 of Eupatridse to seize the clansmen's lots, or as records 
 of the amount of the mortgage, or of dues of food rent, 
 on the land, or on the produce. Meantime hirelings 
 (Otjtss), and broken men from other tribes, would have 
 their own grievances. There would be plenty of dis- 
 tress, but by the removal of the opoc by Solon, and 
 the consequent decline of what we may almost call the 
 seignorial rights of the Eupatridae over the lots of the 
 freeholders, the land would be left in the small holdings 
 of the democratic age, when Alcibiades had but sixty 
 acres, and when only 5,000 citizens were not land- 
 owners.^* 
 
 We have tried to account for the curious fact that 
 freeholders were crushed with rent, and yeomen with 
 debt due to nobles, on the principle of Sir Henry Maine, 
 that wealth was part of the essence of nobility, as, 
 indeed, early warfare tends to enrich the chief. We 
 have adopted his suggestion of a way in which the 
 
 8* Boeckh, Public Economy of Athens, p. 486. 
 
 I 
 
88 
 
 SOLON'S KEFOEM. 
 
 debt would be incurred— namely, by a Greek form 
 of the custom of taking stock (French chax)tel de 
 fer, Scotch steel-boiv), crossed by the conditions of 
 urban life, and by the introduction of money. And 
 we have seen that, unfortunate as they were, the 
 debtors might yet be landholders, and so their lands 
 might be covered with 6poi, i.e. pillars registering 
 rent on the land, or recording mortgage, if we suppose 
 that land was becoming alienable at least to the chiefs. 
 This theory supposes that opoi was as much the legal 
 name for mortgage pillars in Solon's time as in later 
 Athens.«5 Mr. Cox has recently tried to show that the 
 pillars were sacred land-marks which ' it was sacrilege to 
 touch.' As he also holds that the land belonged to the 
 Eupatridse, it is not easy to understand why Solon re- 
 moved the pillars, and how he dared to do so. If he 
 ' freed the land ' in the sense that he gave it away, to 
 the previously non-holding cultivators, this was 'an 
 avaha(7p6s. Now we hear that the poor were annoyed 
 because he made no dvaBaafi6s. If, on the other hand, 
 he only removed restrictions on the sale of land, how 
 did that benefit the 'impoverished cultivators'? It 
 was rich men, friends of Solon, who borrowed money and 
 bought up land, if we are to believe Plutarch. The money 
 they repaid after the depreciation of the currency ; the 
 land which, when they bought it, had rent or mortgage 
 on it, became after tlie seisachtheia, aarcKros, free from 
 opoL, or record-pillars. But the whole business is unintel- 
 ligible if we suppose Solon to have sacrilegiously removed 
 
 Solo" ^e'^^'"''''^^'''''' '''"'' ^''''' ^'"^'"'^ ""^ ^''^^''^^ '' 2^^' Plutarch, 
 
 THE EARLY LOTS. 
 
 89 
 
 ancient and sacred land-marks. Things scarcely grow 
 clearer when the historian says that the peasant, in the 
 circumstances lie has described, must either have become 
 a free owner of the soil or have fallen back into his 
 original subjection ; and in the next sentence repre- 
 sents his peasant, presumably now a free owner, as still 
 paying a rent. To whom this rent was paid, if the 
 ownership of the Eupatridae disappeared with their pillars 
 — and if it did not disappear, why were the pillars re- 
 moved—it is hard to say. Did the State resume all 
 landed property ? 
 
 In support of the theory that in early times the 
 Greek freemen held almost equal lots of land, a number 
 of facts in early legislation may be quoted from the 
 'Politics' of Aristotle. 'Men of old time,' he says, 
 ' seem to have recognised the advantage of equality of 
 property.' Thus, Solon laid down a law, which was 
 common in other states, that there should be a maxi- 
 mum and limit to the acquisition of landed property.*^ 
 Again, there was the injunction, as far as possible, 
 T0V9 irakaLovs K\i]povs Biaaco^sip. Philolaus gave the 
 same law, described as peculiar to his legislation, to 
 the Thebans.«7 In Thurii the nobles (yvaypifioc) broke 
 the law of the state by acquiring all the land. In 
 the ancient states ' the first lots ' could not he sold. 
 All the Aphytaeans were landholders. Oxylus for- 
 bade lending on landed security. All these attempts 
 to restrict the sale of land, and to keep it parcelled 
 
 8" Pol. ii. 7, 6. 
 
 8' Thurii; cf. Pol. v. 7, 9 ; Philolaus, Pol. ii. 12. Oxylus could 
 not have forbidden the lending of nionct/, which came in after his 
 time. 
 
 ( • 
 
90 
 
 AEISTOTLE ON OKIGIN OF SOCIETY. 
 
 I 
 
 out in small lots, may be taken, without much im- 
 prudence, as survivals of early custom. Plato, in 
 the regulations as to land-tenure in the ' Laws,' would 
 have returned to the old usage, by way of rendering his 
 community prosperous, free, and stationary.^^ In short, 
 the views of property of the theorists in late Greece, 
 like the economical views of some modern writers, 
 were an attempt to restore an institution of which 
 the religious and family sanction had long been ob- 
 solete. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE ORIGIN OF SOCIETY. 
 * The hole of the pit whence we were digged.' 
 
 In dealing with the problems presented by the earliest 
 associations of men, Aristotle had two great advantages. 
 In the first place, Grreek religious tradition on the 
 matter of the origin of society, and of the family, was 
 various and shifting, and bound the enquirer to no par- 
 ticular orthodoxy. In the second place, Aristotle had 
 never heard of the Aryan race, and was not tempted to 
 imagine that one branch of the human stock enjoyed 
 some peculiar privileges, or grew up in a different way 
 from that by which the other families of man have been 
 
 " Plato, Laws, 740, 638, 684. 
 
 ~1 
 
 THE FAMILY. 
 
 91 
 
 led towards civilisation.^s In spite of this absence of 
 misleading notions, and in spite of his acquaintance with 
 the rude forms of kinship through women, or of mere 
 gregarious herding together, which observers like 
 Herodotus had noted among the MassagetjB and 
 Agathyrsi, 'the most delicate of mortals,' Aristotle con-(^ 
 ceives of the family as the original unit of society.^o} 
 Many ages of this sacred institution have made the con- 
 ception of the family so familiar that it is certainly 
 difficult to believe that there was a time our ancestors 
 were unacquainted with it, in its present form. That " 
 such a state of society may exist, however, experience 
 suggests.^^ The more minutely we examine the so- 
 ciety of savages, the more clearly do we detect a 
 very gradual progress from kindred through females 
 only, to the patriarchal stage of family life, and so 
 to the family as we understand it.92 Now if the 
 nameless ancestors of the ancient Greeks ever passed 
 through the savage state, the inference would plainly 
 be that they too had gone through several stages 
 
 89 
 
 Maine, Early History of Institutions, p. 96. «It is to be hoped 
 that contemporary thought will before long make an effort to emanci- 
 pate Itself from those habits of levity in adopting theories of race ' 
 
 «» Herodot. iv. 104-172 ; Libyans, Pol. ii. 1, 13. The Family, Pol. i. 
 1, 5. 
 
 *" McLennan, Primitive Marriage, p. 176. 
 
 ^ Morgan, Systems of Consanguinity and of Affinity, p. 469. * The 
 evidence from the classificatory system tends to prove that marriage 
 between single persons was unknown to the primitive ages of mankind.' 
 Mr. Morgan's theory differs somewhat from that of Mr. McLennan. But 
 the connection between the higlier and lower forms of kinship may be 
 tr»oed by so many survivals, especially by the ceremony of capture, and 
 by nobility going on the female side, that I cannot share the doubts of 
 8ir Henry Maine (Early History of Institutions, pp. 66, 67). See also 
 Giraud Teulon, * Origines de la Famille.' 
 
92 
 
 PLATO AND AEISTOTLE. 
 
 of kinship before they reached the perfect family life 
 which we find them enjoying as soon as we make their 
 acquaintance in Homer. Now as far as the traditions 
 of Hellas, and the common opinion of the Hellenes 
 went, they had evolved their civilisation out of a con- 
 dition of savagery. Both Aristotle and Plato, to go no 
 further, speak of the earliest men as ' earth-born,' or as 
 being the remnant of another race left after some deluge, 
 ' small sparks of humanity preserved on the tops of 
 mountains.' ' Of cities, or governments, or legislation,' 
 they could have no idea at all.^^ Neither Plato nor 
 . Aristotle, however, lays much stress on the nature of 
 Hheir family arrangements; the latter says that 'the 
 
 * Greeks of old used to buy their wives from each 
 other ; ' the former quotes the well-known passage from 
 the Odyssey about the Cyclopes ' giving laws each to 
 
 )his own wife and children.' Thus the two philosophers 
 )may be said to consider Greek life to have begun in the 
 patriarchal stage, where the father and house-master 
 Shas despotic power {jpatHa potestas) over the members 
 of his household. In fact, Aristotle accounts for the 
 rise of kingly government in cities and tribes, by say- 
 ing that these associations were made up of men who 
 had previously been accustomed to the kingly sway of 
 the paternal authority. Nor can there be much doubt 
 that the first Greeks who gathered into cities had long 
 
 * been in the patriarchal stage, that each father had been 
 a king within his own spKos^ or house-enclosure, while 
 he was but a peer in the assembly of his village. 
 
 LATER AND EARLIER OPINION. 
 
 93 
 
 9S 
 
 Plato (Laws, 677-80 ; Pol. ii. 8, 21 ; Laws, 782) speaks of human 
 tjaerifice, and of abstention from the flesh of the cow. 
 
 Without disputing this, we wish to ask if there was not 
 an age beyond the dawn of history, perhaps beyond the 
 dateless time when the common Indo-European terms 
 for father were coined, when the ancestors of the 
 Greeks knew no ties of blood at all, or knew them only 
 through females ? Now, as we have said, the Greeks 
 themselves believed that such primitive simplicity had 
 once been their own condition. As a proof that they 
 accepted this view without the reluctance now so gene- 
 ral, one might quote the words of Moschion, a late 
 writer of the school of Euripides : — 
 
 i]v yttjO TTOT aiuiv kuvoQj ^j', OTrr/itVa 
 6r}pa\v halraQ elxot^ ificpepEic fiporoi ' 
 6 h' aadevrjg i)y twv a^eivoviav /3opa.^* 
 
 This may be called a mere sophistic paradox ; but the 
 author of the Homeric hymn to Hephaestus was no 
 sophist, and he speaks of men — 
 
 Ot TO ■Ko.poQ Trep 
 avTpoLQ vauTciaaKov kv ovpEuiv yvre dfjpeg. 
 
 It is only natural to attribute to cave-men the mora- 
 lity of cave-bears, and we shall see that Greek traoi- 
 tion did not scruple to do so. Cecrops, the Seipent 
 king of Athens, was credited with the invention of 
 marriage, as the Australian blackfellows of to-day 
 assign the innovation to the Lizard,^^ Another legend 
 
 »♦ I am indebted to Preller, Ausgewahlte Aufsatze, p. 287. 
 
 ^^ The words of Suidas are plain enough, p. 3102. irpdrepov ykp al 
 rris xoipas e/cciVrjs yvvaiKcs, k.t.K. This and similar expressions are not 
 quoted as if they afTorded any historical proof that such manners ever 
 prevailed among the tribes settled in Greece, but merely to show that 
 nothing in Greek feeling made belief in such a tradition impossible. 
 
94 
 
 TRACES OF SAVAGERY. 
 
 Ill' 
 
 ran to the effect that, before Cecrops, children in 
 Athens went by the mother's name, just as nobility 
 went by the mother's side among the Lycians and 
 Etruscans, just as 'the Picts chose their royal race 
 ever on the mother's side,' just as nobility in heroic 
 G-reece came through the mother, and the Divine 
 father who saw the daughters of men that they were 
 fair.96 
 
 We thus find that neither tradition nor opinion in 
 Greece ran absolutely counter to the view that Greeks 
 had once been like barbarians, while barbarians had 
 been like savages. It would not be hard to go further, 
 and show that many traces in the symbolism of Greek 
 marriage customs, that certain strange and revolting 
 provisions of Greek law, are derived from an antiquity 
 when the family was a very different thing from what 
 it became in historic times. The mere persistence of a 
 pretence of capture in the Spartan marriage ceremony 
 points to a time when women had to be, as in so many 
 Greek myths they were, stolen from a hostile tribe. 
 And the fact that women had to be stolen points to the 
 prohibition to marry within a man's own group, which 
 again was deduced from a scarcity of women within 
 the group, which must have made polyandry a ne- 
 cessity. To take another instance, the law which 
 allowed an Athenian to marry his sister-german clearly 
 looked on the relative by the father's side as no relative 
 at all, while relationship on the mother's side was a 
 sacred tie.^^ It is unnecessary to dilate on this subject 
 
 ^ The English Chronicle, p. 1. 
 •' Plutarch, Solon. 
 
 II 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE TENOS. 
 
 95 
 
 more fully here, because Mr. McLennan has collected 
 enough of the evidence that makes for the ancient ex- 
 istence of kinship through women in Greece. What 
 we are now about to attempt is a mere application of 
 views which Mr. McLennan has originated and set 
 forth with an admirable combination of clearness, 
 originality, and learning. 
 
 There would perhaps be little reason to examine the 
 origin of the family in Greece if there were not grounds 
 for supposing that the process which ultimately deve- 
 loped the family produced also the germ of an associa- 
 tion which lasted, as a political body, long after the 
 family had acquired its civilised form. This association 
 was the r^ivos ; and the object of this essay is to contrast 
 the two views of the origin of that important political 
 factor, the views of Mr. McLennan and of Sir Henry 
 Maine. To state the matter shortly, we may say that 
 the former writer believes the r^evos^ or at least the germ 
 of the ^ivos^ to have existed prior to the evolution of the 
 patriarchal family ; while the latter, like Aristotle, Mr. 
 Freeman, Mr. Cox, Mr. Grote, and Mr. Kemble, holds, 
 or did hold, that the 'yevos was probably composed by 
 aggregation of families. By the first theory, the r^ivos 
 was the earlier unit, and the families grew up and sepa- 
 rated each from each within the bosom of the group. By 
 the latter theory, the ordinary family existed first in 
 time, and the ^evos was formed later by the extension ofj ^ 
 the single family, and by the adoption of other families 
 into the first.^^ 
 
 '"Early History of Institutions, p. 66; Freeman's Comparative 
 Politics, p. 104. Dicaearchus held the same view, if we suppose irdnpa. 
 
 ^^ 
 
96 
 
 THE CLAN IN EUKOPE. 
 
 We have already seen the great political importance 
 of the yivos in Greece. This association answered to the 
 gens at Rome, and to the sibsceaft, or kinship, which, 
 when settled within its own mark of land, is known in 
 early Teutonic history as the Markgenossenschaft. 
 Whether in Greece, Rome, or England, not to mention 
 other countries, the members of each of these kinships 
 all bore the same patronymic name, were all held 
 together by the two most sacred bonds — of belief that 
 they shared the same blood, and of participation in the 
 same religious rites and worship of a heroic ancestor. 
 Whether in Greece, England, or Rome, the chief 
 I families in these kinships, subordinated to the wider 
 ! tribal arrangement, formed the earliest aristocracies. 
 / Outside the gentes there was neither tribal right, nor 
 civic right, nor land, save at exorbitant rack-rent, for 
 the stranger who settled in their neighbourhood. 
 Even in the later times of Greece, full citizenship 
 generally implied admission within the sacred circle of 
 gentile feasts and sacrifices. The question which we have 
 now to ask is, did the members of each ysvos really par- 
 take in any degree of common blood ; were they really 
 kindred, or was the idea of kinship little more than a 
 legal fiction? That any traceable blood connection 
 had disappeared in the time of Pericles, or of Gracchus, 
 may be admitted at once. Indeed, there was a defini- 
 tion which recognised the ysvvrJTat as connected by 
 
 to have the same meaning as y4vos. 4>paTpia, vriih him, is the union on 
 festal occasions {Upuv koivovikti (Tvvobos) of brothers and sisters, who 
 have married into different Trdrpai. (I>v\^, or tribe, is a still later and 
 larger division after the avvodos els ras woA-cty. — Dicaearch. Fragm. 139. 
 
 THE TE'NOS FOUNDED ON KINSHIP. 
 
 97 
 
 customary law (vofiay), as having been If dpxrjs eh r^ 
 KoXovfjLsva yivt) KaravsfJbTjOsvTss, 
 
 In several places the ryBwrjiaL are defined as ov^ 
 oi i/c ryivovs Kol d(f>' ULfiaTos irpoarjKovTss, Gentile, rela- 
 tions, then, were not necessarily, or at least in later 
 times could not make out that they were, blood rela- 
 tions.93 The ancient tie of kindred had come to be/) 
 thouglit part of some consciously invented division off 
 the citizens, but it cannot be doubted that long before/ 
 the beginning of political legislation the yivTj had grown) 
 up out of some real ties of blood. The right to share 
 in the property of a deceased fellow gentile, the duty df 
 taking up the blood feud for him if he were slain, the 
 common burying-place, sufficiently prove that kinship 
 was at the bottom of the gentile division. 
 
 How, then, did the ysuos come into existence ? Now, 
 if we allege, with Sir Henry Maine, ' that it is difficult 
 to say of what races of men it is not allowable to lay 
 down that the society in which they are united was 
 originally organised on the patriarchal model,' we must 
 accept the usual tlieory of the origin of the ysvos.^^^ We 
 must say, with Mr. Freeman, that ' the family grew 
 into the clan, and the clan grew into the tribe.' We 
 must say, with Mr. Cox, that though the father of the 
 
 '» See a number of extracts in Meier, De Gent. Att., showing that 
 the lexicographers supposed the geiitile relationship to have been pro- 
 duced by enactment, vdfxc^ rivl f^x^vres Koivwviav. The synonyms for 
 near kin, such as bfioydXanrr^s (collactanei), bfioaiirvoL, ^/to/cciTrroi, quoted 
 by Aristotle from early authorities, like Charondas and Epimenides 
 correspond to 'Gaelic teadhloch and coedhichc, meaning the first' 
 having a common residence, the second, those who eat together' 
 (M'Lennan Primitive Marriage, p. 154.) They certainly seem ?o base 
 kinship rather on milk ties and residence than oa blood affinitv 
 
 *•" Ancient Law, p. 132. ^' 
 
98 
 
 EXPLANATIONS OF UNION OF FAMILIES. 
 
 primitive household ' knew nothing of ritual common to 
 other families,' and though the ' primitive Aryan ' lived 
 ' in utter isolation,' yet that ' the original families might 
 combine for the purpose of extending their power and 
 increasing it.' It is very hard to see how this union 
 of hostile families into trihes was brought about. Mr. 
 Cox is led to suppose that the primitive Aryan lived 
 ' in lawful wedlock,' in a den ' which, save his mate 
 and offspring, no other living thing might enter, ex- 
 cept at the risk of life.' We must presume that after 
 his death the primitive Aryan became ' the god ' of 
 his children, that his younger sons became the 
 heads of new families, which were kept in strict 
 subordination to the chief who, in the direct line, 
 represented the original progenitor, and who thus 
 became the king of a number of houses, that is, of 
 a tribe. ^®* This view, which is shared by M. Fustel 
 de Coulanges, is a perfectly simple, clear, and natural 
 one ; but how far is it based on history, how far is it 
 based on the facts of primitive life ? No real explana- 
 tion seems to be given of the fact that families, said 
 to be exclusive both by brute instinct and by selfish 
 religion, combined with other families equally exclu- 
 sive. Yet there is no doubt at all that distinct families 
 were combined in the local tribes. The original ex- 
 clusiveness could scarcely have been overcome, as Mr. 
 Cox suggests, by any far-sighted policy of ' extending 
 and increasing the power ' of families that, ex hypothesis 
 detested each other. Again, if we suppose the original 
 family to have merely increased and multiplied into a 
 
 "' Cox's History of Greece, vol. i. pp. 15, 16. 
 
 DIFFICULTIES INVOLVED. 
 
 99 
 
 homogeneous tribe, why were the local tribes not 
 homogeneous ? why were they local aggregates of clans 
 of different patronymics and different religions ? There 
 is still another difficulty. How is it that, amono- 
 nations still in the clan stage of society, we find the 
 same family names prevailing in different and distant 
 local trihes ? Take the case of Australia, one finds the 
 same fartiily names, scattered through the different 
 local tribes all over the continent. Take tlie case of 
 early England, one finds the traces of the clan of Bil- 
 lingas in Northampton, Lancashire, Durham, Lincoln, 
 Yorkshire, Sussex, Salop, and other widely separated 
 districts.^02 jjgj,^^ ^^leu, are three difficulties— first,/ 
 that of accounting for the non-homogeneous character 
 of local tribes if they sprang from one kinship ; secondly, 
 the difficulty of accounting for the union of elements! 
 confessedly so exclusive as the different families ;l 
 thirdly, of understanding how the same family names 
 were scattered through many local tribes. The last 
 question scarcely meets the student of Greek and 
 Eoman history, but it at once encounters the reader 
 of early English history, and the observer of existing 
 societies still in the tribal and clan stage of civilisation. 
 Sir Henry Maine solves the first problem, that of 
 the non-homogeneous character of local tribes, by sup- 
 posing that one family admitted others within its circle 
 by the legal fiction of adoption. ' The expedient was 
 that the incoming peoples should feign themselves to 
 
 J"2 Kemble's Saxons in England, vol. i. p. 458 ; M'Lennan, Primi- 
 tive Marriage, pp. 273, 274, and Sir George Grey's ' Journals,* vol ii 
 p. 227. 
 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 AN INSTANCE OF ADOPTION. 
 
 be descended from the same stock as the people on 
 whom they were ingrafted.' ^^^ Mr. McLennan asks, 
 'where is the evidence that the fiction of adoption 
 was ever employed on so large a scale as to account 
 for the heterogeneity of such groups as the tribes of 
 Home, Greece, or India ? ' One might point, in reply, 
 to the very modern instance of the Kaffirs. Within 
 the memory of men a certain Englishman has become 
 the nominal father of a tribe of more than three thou- 
 sand Kaffirs. This came about through a curious kind 
 of savage ' commendation.' The English settler, who 
 was rich in cattle, bought wives for a number of Kaffir 
 vassals ; these vassals took his family name as a tribal 
 name; they increased and multiplied, holding their 
 wives of the Englishman on condition of military ser- 
 vice, and our countryman, a Mr. Finn, is thus the 
 nominal father of the whole tribe of Ama-Finns. 
 There must meanwhile be numerous older family names 
 within the tribe of Ama-Finns. Here is a bizarre in- 
 stance of the extension, by adoption and legal fiction, 
 of the Finn family. Curious as this case of adoption 
 seems, it is not an example of the process by which 
 family names got scattered through the local tribes 
 over the continents of Australia and North America, 
 and, as it seems, over North Germany in the ages 
 before the English invasion of Britain. 
 
 There is good reason to believe that the r^svr) of 
 Greece, the Eoman gentes, the sibsceafts of the early 
 English, were not developed out of the family as we 
 understand it, by natural increase and by adoption. 
 
 >»» Ancient Law, pp. 130, 131. 
 
 THE CASE OF EAKLY ENGLAND. 
 
 101 
 
 They were very probably survivals from an earlier stage 
 of kinship than that of the ordinary family. It was not 
 the processes of natural increase of one family, and of 
 adoption into it, that developed the clans of Australia 
 and of North America. The members of these clans 
 bear each the clan patronymic, perform the same super- 
 stitious rites, and are bound to mutual defence. So 
 far they resemble the Greek rysvrj. Again, they are 
 scattered through all the local tribes, so that, in Aus- 
 tralia, a man of the Kangaroo family may belong to 
 the Waddaroke local tribe, or to the Ballarat local tribes 
 and so on, just as in England a man of the Billinga 
 clan, or of tlie Arlinga clan, might be a Somersaeta, or 
 a Huicca, or a Lindisfara by local tribe. This curious 
 scattering of the family names through the local settle- 
 ments in England has puzzled Mr. Kemble, who ac- 
 counts for it by the confusion of the English invasion, 
 and by later wanderings and colonisations. But if the 
 Arlingas, Billingas, and so forth, were once scattered 
 over North Germany, as the men of the Snake, Sun, or 
 Tortoise clans are scattered all over America and Aus- 
 tralia, it would necessarily happen that when a Jutland 
 tribe invaded the south of England, it would leave 
 families settled there of the same names as a Schleswig 
 tribe would leave in the north or west of England. ^°* 
 
 Now, it can be absolutely proved that the clans of 
 America and Australia were developed not out of ag- 
 gregations of ordinary families, but through counting 
 kindred by the female side, and through a strange 
 custom which prohibits a man from marrying a woman 
 »"* Kemble's Saxons in England, vol. i. p. 59. 
 
102 
 
 'EXOGAMY' IN AUSTRALIA. 
 
 of his own patronymic. ' The children take after the 
 clan of the mother, and no man can marry a woman of 
 the same clan, though the parties be in no way related 
 according to our ideas.' ^°* We have seen that the 
 members of the ^ivos were ' in no way related according 
 to our ideas,' ov Kara 'yivos ak\r}kois TrpoarjKOVTSs oi;8' 
 a-TTo Tov avTov aifjLaTos, according to their later notions 
 of relationship. 
 
 If we trace the results of the savage rule of mar- 
 riage, we see that a man of the Ballarat tribe, and of 
 the Swan family, may not marry a Swan woman. If 
 he marries a woman of the Wandyalloch tribe, and of 
 the Kangaroo family, his children, taking her name, 
 become Kangaroos within the Ballarat local tribe and 
 almost within the Swan jhos. Yet they are bound to 
 fight, in case of blood feud, for the Kangaroo family in 
 whatever local tribe it may be situated. Thus, by a 
 process not that of adoption, one family, however natu- 
 rally hostile to all other families, is brought within their 
 circle. It is scarcely necessary to trace the causes of the 
 two primitive marriage rules, the one prohibiting mar- 
 riage with a woman of one's own family name, the 
 other making children take the mother's family name, 
 as tradition says that they did in early Athens. It 
 is enough that these rules account for the lieteroge- 
 neity of local tribes, for the existence of jEvrj which 
 have a tradition of kinship, though no real kinship is 
 traceable, and for the dispersion of these all through 
 distant localities. As to the causes of these marriage 
 
 '*** The Aboriginals of Australia, Gr. Scott Lang, p. 10; Primitive 
 Marriage, p. 113 ; Morgan, Systems of Affinity, p. 149. 
 
 OBJECTIONS. 
 
 103 
 
 rules, they hold of conduct which Sir Henry Maine con- 
 templates when he speaks of practices which ' it would 
 be unjust and incorrect to call immoral, because .... 
 they are older than morality.' These causes produced 
 the savage groups of America and Australia — the ques- 
 tion is whether the ysvrj of Athens, the gentes of Eome, 
 and the English sibsceaft are but traces of practices 
 ' older than morality ' in the Aryan race. 
 
 Against this view it may be urged that the Austra- 
 lians and American Indians are even now in the habit 
 of deriving family names through female kinship, which 
 the yspT) of historical Greece did not do. But this 
 makes no difference to the argument. It is easy to 
 imagine the Australians beginning — the Indians have 
 already begun — to derive names through the father, 
 and to permit marriage between men and women bear- 
 ing the same name. When they do so — if the Aryan 
 settlers let them live till they do so — they will not alter 
 the fact that gentile families are scattered all over 
 Australia. The names and a tradition of kinship will 
 survive, just as the names with tradition of kinship 
 survived in various degrees in Greece, and Eome, and 
 England. The family grew up within the group by a 
 process of appropriation and of the development of in-i 
 dividual claims. When it was fullgrown it seemed 
 prior in time to the group, whereas it was only prior 
 in idea^ as the state, according to Aristotle, is earlier 
 than the family in idea. 
 
 Another very obvious objection to the theory that 
 the ryevos is earlier than the family is perhaps of little 
 weight. The savage KoivwvlaL we have spoken of are 
 
104 
 
 SURVIVALS. 
 
 named after what are called Totems, by the names of 
 plants and animals, or of the sun, or water, or earth. 
 They reverence the vegetable, or beast, or natural force 
 from which they think they spring, and will rarely 
 pluck the plant or slay the beast. Now the English, 
 Greek, and Koman kinships deduced their stock from 
 some eponymous hero, not from a totem, and this dif- 
 ference in practice may seem to imply a difference in 
 the kind of association. But it may be conjectured 
 that a time must have come to Greeks and Teutons, 
 when tribes that had once believed in some tradition of 
 descent from beast, or bird, or fish found the notion 
 incredible. We know that the Zulus have reached this 
 stage of scepticism.^°^ Such people would either look 
 on the old story as an allegory, and consider the Snake, 
 or the Sun, of their ancestors as a mere name for some 
 real man, or they would transfer their adoration from 
 the Totem to some distinguished chief of their stock, 
 whom they would ' seek to lord and to Father,^ His 
 name would be the name of his clan, which would 
 thenceforth only bear the effigy of the bestial or animal 
 ancestor as a crest or banner in war. If we look at 
 Greek and Northern traditions with this in mind, we 
 may guess why the f^ivos of the loxidse reverenced 
 asparagus, why many Attic demes were called after the 
 names of plants, why the Bear appears as an ancestor in 
 Scandinavian pedigrees, why the hoar was the amulet 
 of the Scyldings, why there was a hero of the form of a 
 wolf ^.t Athens.^^^ 
 
 '** Callaway's Religion of the Amazuln. 
 
 *"' Plutarch, Theseus, for the loxidse. For the Bear, see Freeman, 
 
 ARYAN PREJUDICES. 
 
 105 
 
 The origin of the family is a question that has its 
 disagreeable side. The painfulness of the study may be 
 compensated if it teaches us to throw away the absurd 
 pride of race, which furnishes so-called Aryans with a 
 semi-scientific excuse for despising the 'lower races,' 
 on account of practices that have left their mark in 
 Aryan institutions. 
 
 Norman Conquest, i. 420 ; for the Boar, see Kemble's Beowulf and notes ; 
 for the Wolf-shaped hero, see Ilarpocration under ^^kol^^iv. Something 
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 patronymics given in Mr. Kemble's Saxons in England. Compare 
 Grote, iii, 85, 'A great many of the domes seem to have derived their 
 names from the shrubs and plants which grew in their neighbourhood,' 
 with Sir G. Grey, ii. 228, ' One origin of family names frequently as- 
 cribed by the natives is, that they were derived from some vegetable or 
 animal" being common in the district which the family inhabited.' 
 
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 _ Examples of Steam, Air, and Gas Engines. 4to. 70s. 
 
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 Buckton's Our Dwellings, Healthy and Unhealthy. Crown Svo. 3s. U. 
 Crookes-s Select Methods in Chemical Analysis. Svo. 2 is. 
 CuUey's Handbook of Practical Telegraphy. Svo. 16s. 
 Fairbaim's Useful Information for Engineers. 3 vols, crown Svo. 31s. %d. 
 
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 Ganot'3 Elementary Treatise on Phvsics, by Atkinson. Large crown Svo. 15s. 
 
 _ Natural Philosophy, by Atkinson. Crown Svo. 7s. M. 
 Grove's Correlation of Physical Forces. Svo. 15s. 
 Haughton's Six Lectures on Physical Geography. Svo. 15s. 
 Heer% Primseval Worid of Switzerland. 2 vols. Svo. 12s. 
 Helmholtz on the Sensations of Tone. Royal Svo. 2Ss. 
 Helmholtz's Lectures on Scientific Subjects. 2 vols, crown Svo. 7s. M. each. 
 Hudson and Gosse's The Rotifera or 'Wheel Animalcuks.' With 30 Coloured 
 
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 Hullah's Lectures on the History of Modern Music. Svo. 8s. 6d. 
 
 _ Transition Period of Musical History. Svo. 10s. 6cf. 
 Jackson's Aid to Engineering Solution. Royal Svo. 21s. 
 Ja^'o's Inorganic Chemistry, Theoretical and Practical. Fcp. Svo. 2s. 
 Kerl's Metallurgy, adapted by Crookes and Rbhrig. 3 vols. Svo. £4. 19s. 
 Kolbe's Short Text-Book of Inorganic Chemistry. Crown Svo. 7s. 6d. 
 Lloyd's Treatise on Magnetism. Svo. 10s. 6rf. ,„ „, 
 
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 Macf arren's Lectures on Harmony. Svo. 1 2s. 
 
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8 
 
 General Lists of Works. 
 
 Miller's Elements of Chemistry, Theoretical and Practical. 3 vols. 8vo. Part I. 
 
 Chemical Physics, 16,f. Part II. Inorganic Chemistry, 24a\ Part III. Organic 
 
 Chemistry, price 31j. 6d. 
 Mitchell's Manual of Practical Assaying. 8vo. Zls. 6c?. 
 Northcott's Lathes and Turning. 8vo. 18*. 
 Owen's Comparative Anatomy and Pliypiology of the Vertebrate Animals. 
 
 3 vols. 8vo. 73*. 6d. 
 Payen's Industrial ChemLsti-y. Edited by B. H. Paul, Ph.D. Svo. 42.?. 
 Piesse's Art of Perfumery. Square crovvn Svo. 21*. 
 Reynolds's Experimental Chemistry. Fcp. Svo. Part 1. 1*. 67. Part II. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Part III. 3*. 6</. 
 Schellen's Spectrum Analysis. Svo. 31*. Gd. 
 Sennett's Treatise on the Marine Steam Engine. Svo. 21*. 
 Smith's Air and Rain. Svo. 24*. 
 
 Stoney's Tlie Theory of tlie Stresses on Girders, &c. Royal Svo. 36*. 
 Swinton's Electric Lighting : Its Principles and Practice. Crown Svo. 5?. 
 Tilden's Practical Chemistry. Fcp. Svo. 1*. 6d. 
 Tyndall's Faraday as a Discoverer. Crown Svo. 3*. 6J. 
 
 — Floating Matter of the Air. Crown Svo. 7..'. Qd. 
 
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 — Heat a Mode of Motion. Crown Svo. 12*. 
 
 — Lectures on Light delivered in America. Crown Svo. o*. 
 
 — Lessons on Electricity. Crown Svo. 2*. 6d. 
 
 — Notes on Eh^ctrical Phenomena. Crown Svo. 1*. sewed. Is. Qd. cloth. 
 
 — Notes of Lectures on Light. Crown Svo. 1*. sewed, Ia-. 6«7. cloth. 
 
 — Sound, with Frontispiece and 203 Woodcuts, Crown Svo. 10*. Gd. 
 Watts's Dictionary of Chemistry. 9 vols, medium Svo. £15. 2*. 6d. 
 Wilson's Manual of Health-Science. Crown Svo. 2*. Qd. 
 
 THEOLOGICAL AND RELIGIOUS WORKS. 
 
 Ariiold's (Rev. Dr. Thomas) Sermons. 6 vols, crown Svo. 5*. each. 
 Boultbee's Comm* utary on the 39 Articles. Crown Svo. 6*. 
 Browne's (Bishop) Exposition of the 39 Articles. Svo. 16*. 
 Colenso on the Pentateucli and Book of Joshua. Crown Svo. G*. 
 Conder's Handbook of the Bible. Post Svo. 7*. 6(7. 
 Conybeare & Howson's Life and Letters of St. Paul :— 
 
 Library Edition, with Maps, Plates, and Woodcuts. 2 vols, square crown 
 Svo. 21*. 
 
 Student's Edition, revised and condensed, with 46 Illustrations and Maps. 
 1 vol. crown Svo. 7*. Gd. 
 Cox's (Homersham) The First Century of Christianity. Svo. 12^. 
 Davidson's Introduction to the Study of the New Testament. 2 vols. Svo. 30*. 
 Edersheim's Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah. 2 vols. Svo. 42*. 
 
 Prophecy and History in relation to the Messiah. Svo. 12*. 
 
 Ellicott's (Bishop) Commentary on St. Paul's Epistles. Svo. Qalatians, 8*. Cd. 
 
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 Lectures on the Life of our Lord, Svo. 12*. 
 
 Ewald's Antiquities of Israel, translated by Solly. Svo. 12*. Gd. 
 
 History of Israel, translated by Carpenter & Smith. Vols. 1-7, Svo. £5, 
 
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 Macdonald's (G.) Unspoken Sermons. Second Series. Crown Svo. 7*. Gd. 
 Manning's Temporal Mission of the Holy Ghost. Crown Svo. Ss. Gd. 
 Martineau's Endeavours after the Christian Life. Crown Svo. 7s Gd. 
 
 — Hymns of Praise and Prayer. Crown Svo. 4*. 6d. 32mo. 1*. 6(f. 
 
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 Monsell's Spiritual Sougs for Sundays and Holidays. Fcp. Svo. 5* ISmo. 2*. 
 Muller's (Max) Origin and Growth of Religion. Crown Svo. 7*. Gd. 
 
 — — Science of Religion. Crown Svo. 7*. Gd. 
 Newman's Apologia pro Vita Sua. Crown Svo. 6*. 
 
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 2 vols, crown Svo. 6*. each 
 
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 Overton's Life in tlie Englisli Clmrch (1660-171 1)- Svo. 14*. 
 Rosers's Eclipse of Faith. Fcp. Svo. 5*. 
 
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 Smith's Voyage and Shipwreck of St. Paul. Crown Svo. Is. Gd. 
 Sunernatural Religion. Complete Edition. 3 vols. Svo. 3G*. 
 
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 Tulloch's Movements of Religious Thou-ht in Britain during the Nmecccnth 
 
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 Aldridce's Ranch Notes in Kansas, Colorada. &c. Crown Svo. 5*. 
 Alpine Club (The) Map of Switzerland. In Four Sheets. 42*. 
 Baker's Eight Years in Ceylon. Crown Svo. 5*. 
 
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 Ball on Alpine Travelling, and on the Geology of the Alps, 1*. 
 
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Bent's The Cyclades, or Life among the Insular Greeks. Crown Svo. I2s. Qd. 
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 — Voyage in the Yacht ' Sunbeam.' Crown Svo. 7*. 6^. School Edition, 
 
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 Crawford's Across the Pampas and the Andes. Crown Svo. 7a-. 6d. 
 
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 Beaconsfield's (Tlie Earl of) Novels and Tales. Hughenden Edition, witli 2 
 Portraits on Steel aud 11 Vignettes on Wood. 11 vols, crown Svo. £2. 2a-. 
 Cheap Edition, 1 1 vols. fcp. Svo. 1*. each, sewed ; Is. 6d. each, cloth. 
 
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 Harte (Bret) On the Frontier. Three Stories. 16mo. 1^. 
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 Melville's (Whyte) Novel-. Cheap Edition. 8 vols. fcp. «vo. Ia. ejich, .st-wi'd ; 
 1*. 6d. each, cloth. 
 
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 each, cloth 
 
 By the Earl of B!.acon---fieM. K.G. 
 Lothair. 
 Sybil. 
 Coningsby. 
 Tancred. 
 Venetia. 
 
 Henrietta Temple. 
 Contariui Fleming. 
 Alroy, Ixiou. &ic. 
 The Young Duke. &lc. 
 Vivian Grey. 
 Endyinion. 
 
 By Bret Harte. 
 
 In the Carquinez Woods. 
 
 By Mrs. Oliphant. 
 
 In TriLst, the Story of a Lady 
 and her Lover. 
 
 By James Payn 
 
 By Anthony Ti'ollope. 
 
 Barchester Towers. 
 
 Tlie Warden. 
 By Major Whyte Melville. 
 
 Digby Grand. 
 
 General Bouiu-e. 
 
 Kate Covontr\'. 
 
 The Gladiators. 
 
 Good for Nothing. 
 
 Holmby House. 
 
 The Interpreter. 
 
 The Queen's Marios. 
 By Various Writers. 
 
 The Atelier du Lys. 
 
 Atherstone Priory. 
 
 The Burgomaster's Family. 
 
 Elsa and her Vulture. 
 
 Mademoiselle Mori. 
 
 The Six Sisters of the Vallej s. 
 
 Unawares. 
 
 Thicker than Water. 
 
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 Reader's Fairy Prince FoUow-my-Lead. Crown Svo. 5s. 
 
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 gilt edges, price 3a. 6d. each : — 
 
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 Amy Herbert. Cleve Hall. 
 The Earl's Daughter. 
 Experience of Life. 
 Gertrude. Ivors. 
 
 A Glimpse of the World. 
 Katharine Ashton. 
 Lanetou Parsonage. 
 Margaret Percival. Ursula. 
 
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 11 
 
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 — — Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Fcp. Svo. Is. 
 
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 POETRY AND THE DRAMA. 
 
 Bailey's Festus, a Poem. Crown Svo. I2s. 6d. 
 
 Bowdler's Family Shakespeare. Medium Svo. 14a-. 6 vols. fcp. Svo. 21s. 
 Dante's Divine Comedy, translated by James Innes Minchiu. Crown Svo. 15s. 
 Goethe's Faust, translated by Birds. Large crown Svo. 12a. 6d. 
 
 — — translated by Webb. Svo. 12s. Gd. 
 
 — — edited by Selss. Crown Svo. 5s. 
 
 Ingelow's Poems. Vols. 1 and 2, fcp. Svo. 12s, ^'ol. 3 fcp. Svo. 5s. 
 Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome, with Ivry and the Armada. Illustrated by 
 Weguelin. Crown Svo. 3s. 6(/. gilt edges. 
 
 The same, Annotated Edition, fcp. Svo. Is. sewed, Is. 6<7. cloth, 2s. 6d. cloth extra. 
 The same. Popular Edition. Illustrated by Scliarf. Fcp. 4to. 6d. swd.. Is. cloth. 
 Macdonald's (G.) A Book of Strife : in the Form of the Diary of an Old Soul; 
 Poems. 12mo. 6s, 
 
 Penneira (Cholmondeley) 'From Grave to Gay.' A Volume of Selections. 
 Fcp. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Reader's Voices from Flowerland, a Birthday Book, 2s. 6d. cloth, 3s. 6d. roan. 
 
 Robinson's The New Arcadia, and other Poems. Ciown Svo. 6s. 
 
 Shakespeare's Hamlet, annotated by George Macdonald, LL.D. Svo. 12.v. 
 
 Southey's Poetical Works. Medium Svo. 14s. 
 
 Stevenson's A Child's Garden of Verses. Fcp. Svo. 5s. 
 
 Virgil's JEneid. translated by Conington. Crown Svo. 9s. 
 
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 Dunster's How to Make the Land Pay. Crown Svo. 5s. 
 
 Fitzwygram's Horses and Stables. Svo. 10s. Gd. 
 
 Horses and Roads. By Free-Lance. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 Lloyd, The Science of Agriculture. Svo. 12s. 
 
 Loudon's Encyclopoedia of Agriculture. 21s. 
 
 Miles's Horse's Foot, and How to Keep it Sound. Imperial Svo. 12s. 6d. 
 
 — Plain Treatise on Horse-Shoeing. Post Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 — Remarks on Horses' Teeth. Post Svo. Is. Gd. 
 
 — Stables and Stable-Fittings. Imperial Svo. 15s. 
 Nevile's Farms and Farming. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
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 Steel's Diseases of the Ox, a Manual of Bovine Pathology. Svo. 15*. 
 Stonehenge's Dog in Health and Disease. Square crown Svo. 7s. 6d. 
 
 — Greyhound. Square crown Svo. 15s. 
 Taylor's Agricultural Note Book. Fcp. Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 Ville on Artificial Manures, by Crookcs. Svo. 21s. 
 Youatt's Work on the Dog. Svo. 6s. 
 
 — — — — Horse. Svo. 7s. 6d. 
 
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u::;.':' , 
 
 12 
 
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 SPORTS AND PASTIMES. 
 
 The Badminton Library of Sports and Pastimes. Editea by tlie Ditke of Beaufort 
 and A. E. T. Watson. Witli numerous Illustrations. Crown Hvo. lOs. Gd. 
 each. 
 
 Hunting, by the Duke of Beaufort, ».Vc. 
 
 Fishuig, by H. Cbolmondeley-Pennell, &c. 2 vols. 
 
 Racing, by the Karl of Suffolk, &c. 
 Campbell-Walker's Correct Card, or How to Play at Wliitt. Fcp. Svo. 2^. Gd. 
 Dead Shot (The) by Marksman. Crown 8vo. 105. 6c/. 
 Francis's Treatise on Fishing in all its Branches. Post Svo. 15a-. 
 Jeflferies' The Red Deer. Crown Svo. 4s. 6d. 
 Longman's Chess Openings. Fcp. Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 Peel's A Highland Gathering. Illustrated. Crown Svo. 10s. Qd. 
 Pole's Theory of the Modern Scientific Game of Whist. Fcp. Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 Proctor's How to Play Whist. Crown Svo. 5*. 
 Ronalds's Fly-Fisher's Entomologj'. Svo. 145. 
 Vemey's Chess Eccentricities. Crown Svo. 10*. 6d. 
 Wilcocks's Sea-Fisherman. Pust Svo. 6s. 
 Year's Sport (The) for 18S5. Svo. 2l5. 
 
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 REFERENCE. 
 
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 Acton's Modem Cookery for Private Families. Fcp. Svo. 45. Gd. 
 
 Ayre's Treasury of Bible Knowledge. Fcp. Svo. 65. 
 
 Brande's Dictionary of Science, Literature, and Art. 3 vols, medium Svo. 635. 
 
 Cabinet Lawyer (The), a Popular Digest of the Laws of England. Fcp. Svo. 95. 
 
 Gates's Dictionary of General Biography. Medium Svo. 285. 
 
 Doyle's The Official Baronage of England. Vols. I.-III. 3 vols. 4to. £5. 55. ; 
 
 Large Paper Edition, £15. 165. 
 Gwilt's Encyclopaedia of Architecture. Svo. 525. 6(/. 
 
 Keith Johnston's Dictionary of Geography, or General Gazetteer. Svo. 425. 
 Latham's (Dr.) Edition of Johnson's Dictionarj*. 4 vols. 4to. £7. 
 
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 M'CuUoch's Dictionary of Commerce and Commercial Navigation. Svo. 635. 
 Maunder's Biographical Treasury. Fcp. Svo. 65. 
 
 _ Historical Treasury. Fcp. Svo. 65. 
 
 — Scientific and Literary Treasury. Fcp. Svo. 65. 
 
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 Treasury of Botany, edited by Lindley & Moore. Two Parts, 125. 
 
 Treasury of Geography. Fcp. Svo. 65. 
 
 Treasury of Knowledge and Library of Reference. Pep. Svo. 65. 
 
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