neces seen sae sees ef SSeS Sea ie io 2) ~ oO Zz, ~— el il pam fea © are reasons for disciplinary action and may ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN result in dismissal from the University. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books UNIVERSITY OF 1 oO Nae OTS ao — — Oo CO U4 ps a ee) J San a c Fae Pet ae aa nd). HW = ae} bo 8 es 3 bo © wn Bw Sy Sa (io) n vO ne oO O sedge re o & ee Ay H a Latest Date stamped below. —— dl a , % P wu 0 hh fe ee} ae . OF ieee 1 = ~ ives AG Oe diet Pal ig * i . | 4%, Ay al vit yi tea ry Vieni ad Wa / : Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2022 with funding from University of Illinois Uroana-Champaign Alternates eo coommesimobe nse \ é 1% ; ne ‘oF age on Weees , TH E HUNDRED GREATEST MEN PORTRAITS OF THE ONE HUNDRED GREATEST MEN OF HISTORY REPRODUCED FROM FINE AND RARE ENGRAVINGS VOLUME Ni Aistory HISTORIANS, ORATORS, CRITICS WITH AN INTRODUCTION By Tue Very Reverenp A. P. STANLEY, Dean or Westminster TAOINED OLN SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, AND RIVINGTON CROWN BUILDINGS, 188 FLEET STREET 1880 (AW rights reserved) : = Tax ¥ y ory = ’ Lt 4 nh i TO nin Wadena viz INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME V. Every one knows the story, that when Sir Walter Ralegh was writing the “ History of the World,” in the Tower of London, he overheard two boys quarrelling over the facts of an incident that had happened the day before, and said to himself, “If these two boys cannot agree on an event which occurred almost before their own eyes, how can any one be profited by the narrative which I am writing of events which occurred in ages long past ?” Like to this is the story that Sir Robert Walpole, when someone in his old age offered to read to him a volume of history, replied, “ Anything but history ; I, by my long political experience, know that all history is lying.” The sentiment expressed by these two celebrated men finds a response in many minds, when they are invited to judge of the value of history. It is a natural objection founded on the supposed impossibility of arriving at the truth of past events. And to this has been added in modern times the yet deeper prejudice that the narrative of human affairs, with its com- plexities, uncertainties, and ambiguities, falls into the shade before the steadfast, immovable, demonstrable march of scientific truth. To both these objections the answer may be found in the primary sense of the word “ History.” It means an inquiry, a sifting, a cross- examination of previous events, with the endeavour of eliciting from them their most vital and essential points. First, even with regard to that more superficial difficulty suggested by the two English statesmen, it may be truly said that the careful history of the complex events of past times is more to be depended upon than the conflicting statements of contemporaries and eye-witnesses, such as bred in Sir Walter Ralegh and Sir Robert Walpole an incurable suspicion of all history. At the time when events are taking place, rumours, passions, prejudices, combine in obscuring both the facts themselves and the minds by which those facts are received. It is only after years have 1943067 il INTRODOCLTIONGLOSOLOMESY, elapsed that the documents, the letters, the despatches, the rectifications of contradictions, are fully brought to light; and thus the narratives of' careful historians are almost always more trustworthy than any single narratives of those who lived at the time. It is in this aspect of history that the value of what may be called its antiquarian accessories comes most fully to view. Traditions of personages unknown at the time, but handed on from generation to generation, may in the century afterwards, for the first time, appear above the surface and then become imbedded in the solid substratum of the whole record. Legal documents, state papers, which could not be seen by passing partisans, are revealed at Simancas or the Vatican, or in the Venetian archives, to the careful inquirer; and in this way truth is discovered and falsehood exposed by methods which the aged statesman could not disclose nor the two boys in the street have known. There is an ancient maxim, Quod non est in actis non fuit in factis (‘‘ what cannot be proved by legal acts cannot have a place in historic facts”); but it is equally true, Quod est in actis fuit in factis (“what is witnessed in a legal act is the best proof of what has actually occurred in fact”). The story of Edwy’s marriage with Elgiva, or of Tracy’s shipwreck on the coast of Apulia, long discredited, has been corroborated beyond dispute by finding signatures, under particular circumstances, attached to a charter or a will. Geography also contributes its consolidating testimony. When every living witness has perished, the mountain and the river still remain to bear testimony to the accuracy of some narrative which, without these dumb attestations, would have remained in doubt. There is nothing so permanent, said a distinguished antiquarian scholar, as that which is “writ in water;” a spring, a pool may carry conviction of the identity of a locality and an event when every work of man around it has disappeared. Secondly, it is in the power of a careful historian by this sifting process to reproduce the events of the time as they would have appeared, not merely to one or two bystanders, but to the general mind of the period. The saying of the Duke of Wellington, that a battle is like a ball, in which no one knows what is going on except in the particular part in which he is engaged, may be true enough at the moment; but it is the privilege of the military historian to make himself present in all the parts of the battle at once, and thus to place the reader in the position not merely of one who is engaged in a particular battalion, but of one who follows battalion from battalion to every part of the field. It is this which makes Macaulay’s *! te ° INTRODOCTIONELTOSALOLUMELY. ill —. “ History of England” so pre-eminently attractive. We sometimes hear the complaint brought against it that it cannot be true, because it is as interesting as aromance. Rather we may reverse the complaint, and say, that because it is as interesting as a romance, and because the events of the time in which we live are more interesting than any romance to those who enter into them keenly, therefore the probability is that an history so exciting is true. Where, for example, as in the trial of the seven bishops, the historian has reproduced the whole scene from a collection of innumerable particulars in caricatures, gazettes, private letters, public pleadings, we have a security that the event is placed before us, it may be, perhaps, as it would have appeared to an active partisan, but still to a partisan who took in, as far as was possible, all the streams of excitement with which the atmosphere was at that time pervaded. Thirdly, it is almost a necessary process of the sifting and critical character of history that the faculty of discrimination, the sense of pro- portion, so necessary to a right appreciation of all events, should be brought into operation. The fury of party spirit, however much it may be prolonged in ages subsequent to the events which called it forth, is at any rate brought under some kind of control; and characters, like Joan of Are or Spinoza, which were utterly beyond the reach of the contending factions of the time to discern, assume, as before a divine judgment-seat, something of their true value; and it is in this respect that history assumes one of its noblest attributes, because it tends to keep alive in the human mind that detestation of evil and that admiration of good which form the most secure guarantees of the immortality of the human spirit. When Matthew Paris, the best of early English chroniclers, questioned in his own mind whether it was worth his while to attempt the history of his country, he was consoled by the reflection of the sacred text, “The just shall be had in everlasting remembrance.” It is because history keeps the just in everlasting remembrance, separates the just from the unjust, and preserves the balance between the complex shades of all the characters which hover in the interval, that it has become an important element in religion itself. No doubt the principle of religion in the human mind is independent of any external facts, whether of science or history ; but the sense of solidity given by history to the conception of those great spiritual qualities which are of the essence of religion, is of itself an almost indispensable aid to the continuance of religion in the heart of man. iv INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME V. Fourthly, the careful and impartial investigation of facts, so far from reducing history to a merely prosaic description or calendar of passing events, brings it at once within the reach and demands the assistance of the highest exercise of imagination. It was not without reason that the ancients represented Clio, the genius of history, to be the first of the Muses. In many branches of theology and of philosophy the first requirement is to perceive likenesses in the midst of differences; but in history almost the first requirement is to be able to see unlikenesses in the midst of similarities. Nothing is more difficult than to form an adequate conception of the vast differences which exist between our own epoch and those which have gone before, and it is in the reproduction of these differences in all their vividness that the imaginative quality of the historian is most constantly demanded. No merely contemporaneous records, unless summed up by the calm investigation and vivifymg imagination of later times, can give an insight into the dark, perhaps inscrutable problem of the laws by which the course of human events is regulated. The petty motives, the small contradictions, which occupied the whole horizon of Sir Robert Walpole in his declining age, and of the boys whom Sir Walter Ralegh saw from his prison-window, prevent that wide judgment which alone can take in the various and multiform elements which, from a more distant view, can be perceived. It has been sometimes said that there are only two fields of life in which the idea of an over-ruling Providence is forced upon the mind of man: One is the contemplation of his own individual experiences. That is autobiography ; the other is the progress of events on the largest scale. ‘That is the philosophy of history. Two gioups of instances may be given to illustrate this view of historic philosophy. One is the succession of race to race, of religion to religion, of genius to genius, which to the ancient local chronicler was almost impossible, but which to the modern historian has become almost a new revelation, almost a second nature. The earliest. glimpse of this truth appears in the Book of Daniel; when empire after empire, each with its successive guardian angel, passes before the mind of the prophet. It reached its full develop- ment when in our time complete expression was given to it in Lessing’s “ Education of the Human Race,” or in Hegel's “Philosophy of History.” Comparative mythology, comparative religion, the detection of modern elements in ancient history, and of ancient elements in modern history the general survey of manners, as by Voltaire or Montesquieu, all pertain to LMTRODOGLIONGOsVOLOUMLE TY. Vv this wider investigation of human concerns, and invest it with a philo- sophie, if not a scientific aspect. Another group is that which fixes the mind on what may be called the dramatic and tragical aspect of the life of man. It is true that this aspect will strike contemporary beholders, from the constraining power of natural sympathy; but still, in order for such incidents to have their full force, they must be elevated into a region beyond the obscuring influences of local and personal passions. The failure of the Athenian expedition to Syracuse, the murder of Julius Cesar, the death of Mary Queen of Scots or Charles the First, have an effect on later days such as they could not have produced amidst the disturbing excitements of the moment—that is to say, the appeal to the purely sympathetic, compassionate, and, in the highest sense of the word, philanthropic emotions of the heart, strikes only with full force when the incidents loom through the shadows of the past without entanglement in the small and trivial particularities of the moment. These critical and catastrophic incidents give to history a richness from which the milk of human kindness and the fire of human passion will always be drawn in unfailing abundance. It is thus that the historical books of the Old Testament were in former times included amongst the books of the Prophets. It is thus that when historians have been not merely chroniclers, but men of genius, their histories rise to the rank of finished works of art. The collision of Asia with Europe as described by Herodotus, is an epic. The vicissitudes of the Peloponnesian war as presented by Thucydides, the lights and shadows of the reign of Tiberius and his suc- cessors as presented by Tacitus, are tragedies. The narrative of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, by Gibbon, of the English Revolution, by Macaulay, where every chapter, every sentence, almost every word, are written with a view to the whole, might stand in the Palace of Art side by side with the Parthenon or the Paradise Lost. The romances of Walter Scott, with all their inaccuracies, are by reason of the marvellous insight of their author into the characteristics of former times, ingredients of the best kind of historical instruction. “Where have you learned the history of England?” it was asked of the greatest statesman of the last century. As Ralegh and Walpole began, so Lord Chatham’s reply shall end these words—“ In the Plays of Shakespeare.” A. P. STANLEY. elie © BR Orvis ide IN THE FIFTH VOLUME HERODOTUS | MONTAIGNE THUCYDIDES MONTESQUIEU DEMOSTHENES VOLTAIRE CICERO DIDEROT TACITUS LESSING PLUTARCH GIBBON HERODOTUS 484-406* B.C. {Wield ViRishidla, 10M) leslie ik(OuEy Nd % THE earliest of Greek historians, in the proper sense of the term, was a native of Halicarnassus, a Doric colony in Caria, which, at the time of his birth, was governed by Artemisia, a vassal queen of the great king of Persia. His father was named Lyxes; his mother, Dryo, was sister of Panyasis, one of the revivers of epic poetry, and the author of an “‘ Hereacleas,” which was highly esteemed by the ancients. It is supposed that the poet superintended the education of his nephew, and inspired him with that love of the beautiful and the true, that desire to know and to see, which is the essential quality of a good historian. Probably Herodotus commenced, in early life, that series of visits to distant lands in the course of which he amassed those precious materials that were afterwards so artisti- cally worked up in his immortal history. Nothing positive is recorded, however, of the studies which occupied his early years, or of the circum- stances which favoured the development of his genius. When he was about thirty years of age a rebellion broke out at Halicarnassus. Panyasis was put to death by Lygdamis, grandson of Artemisia, and Herodotus was compelled to flee to Samos, which became his second country. There he found devoted and powerful allies, who assisted him in freeing his compatriots from the 2 JIERODOTOS yoke of Lygdamis; but after he had satisfied his vengeance, he experienced so many disappointments, that he quitted Greece Proper, and fixed his residence at Thurii, near the ancient Sybaris, in Lucania, where he spent the remainder of his days. -Several ancient authors, indeed, call him “the Thurian,” on account of his prolonged residence in that city. The passion to know, to see, and to relate, appears to have taken possession of the mind of Herodotus in his youthful days. First of all he visited Egypt, and ascended the Nile as far as Elephantis, and passed through Libra, Phoenicia, Babylon, and probably Persia. He also travelled in Macedonia, Thrace, and Scythia, beyond the Danube and the Borysthenes. He penetrated to the extremity of the Pontus Euxinus, and sojourned for some time in every place which contained anything likely to gratify his insatiable curiosity. It is needless to say that if the great historian visited the countries of the East, the Greek cities of Asia, and the northern extremities of the Hellenic world, he did not neglect to make himself acquainted thoroughly, and in detail, with all the localities of European Greece—with the cities, temples, and battle-fields of the continent and of the isles. Tradition has it that on the conclusion of these voyages he placed in order the information he had acquired, and that when he had completed this great work he read it to the Greeks who were assembled for the Olympian Games. His auditors were so charmed with the recital that they gave the name of one of the Nine Muses to each of the nine books into which his history is divided. It is added that Thucydides, then fifteen years of age, who was present at this reading, could not help shedding tears of admiration, and that Herodotus, noticing his tears, predicted for the young man a brilliant future. Criticism has proved this pretty story to be a mere invention; but another statement, which carries with it a greater appearance of truth, is that when thirty-eight years old Herodotus went to Athens on the occasion of the grand Panathenian festivals, and there read in public fragments of his work, still incomplete, but certain portions of which were already in the state in which they have been handed down to us. The audience received the work with enthusiastic applause, and awarded to the incomparable narrator a prize of ten talents, besides bestowing upon him by acclamation the title of “ Father of History.” Up to that period the narration of past events had been undertaken only by the logographers, or chroniclers, who merely described what had ¥ " | | | | Hii} | | | || WTNH \| | | {| {| | | WIN | | I | | | Nik } | | Hi | | 4” | iH | i] | LISRARY QF THE LINVERSITY OF ILLINS'S HERODOTUS 3 occurred in their own or in foreign countries, people by people, and town by town, without any connexion. Herodotus made an immense advance in historical composition, by giving unity to a multitude of apparently discon- nected occurrences which had taken place in Europe and in Asia. The link connecting the whole he sought for and found, not like the more advanced of the chroniclers in the traditional series of genealogies, but in an idea—the idea, as profound as it is true, as dramatic as it is popular, of the old quarrel between the East and the West. Herodotus raised prose narrative to the height of poetry. Ancients and moderns have alike been struck, in various points of view, by the analogy between the work of Homer and that of the Father of History. Homer sang; Herodotus wrote; but both were animated with the same inspiration, with the same thought, at once national and poetic, for they both addressed themselves to Greece in order to glorify her in her past, to delight and to instruct her people. The veracity of Herodotus has been sometimes questioned, even by the ancients, but the researches of modern travellers, and the discoveries of science, show that his detractors were not unfrequently in the wrong. As to his style, the most able critics of antiquity proclaim its perfection, not because it is entirely free from irregularities of construction, but because the phraseology is always simple, clear, harmonious, and brilliant, displaying all those qualities which are most calculated to captivate the mind. The author used the Ionian dialect in the composition of his History, which comprises the most remarkable occurrences within a period of 240 years, from the reign of Cyrus, the first king of Persia, to that of Xerxes, when the historian was living. That which charms the readers of Herodotus is, as a foreign critic has justly observed, that childlike simplicity of heart which is ever the companion of an incorruptible love of truth, and that happy and winning style which cannot be attained by any art or pathetic excitement, and is found only where manners are true to nature; for while other pleasing discourses of men roll along like torrents, and noisily hurry through their short existence, the silver stream of his words flows on without concern, sure of its immortal source, everywhere pure and transparent, whether it be shallow or deep; and the fear of ridicule, which sways the whole world, affects not the sublime simplicity of his mind. HERODOTUS CHRONOLOGY OF HIS LIFE HERODOTUS BORN. LEAVES HALICARNASSUS . : . : : . AGE READS PART OF HIS HISTORY AT OLYMPIA . : ~ IN EGYPT : : : : : : ‘ : me READS HIS HISTORY AT THE PANATHEN AA . “ 3 WITH SAMIANS OVERTHROWS TYRANT OF HALL CARNACSUSMEMEMr - 5 |. |) GOES TO THURII . : : : : : : ‘ _ AT ATHENS . : : ; : : : : r “ STILL WRITING HIS HISTORY . : ; : : 9 HHRODOTUS: HIS WORKS ABSTRACT OF CONTENTS FROM THE HISTORY. First Book: CLuIio. Causes of the War between Greece and Persia. Conquests of Crcesus. Visit of Solon to the Court of Croesus. State of Athens under Pisis- tratus. Early History of Sparta. Account of Cyrus. Reduction of Asiatic Greeks. Description of Babylon, &c. SEcoND Book: EvuTERPE. Accession of Cambyses; he invades Egypt. Description of Egypt. Con- nection of the Religions of Egypt and Greece. Cheops, his Pyramid. Invasion of Sennacherib. Egyptian Mysteries, &c. Tutrp Book: THALIA. Causes of Quarrel between Persia and Egypt. Invasion of Egypt. Severities of Cambyses towards the Egyptians. Darius obtains the Kingdom. Persian Expedition against Samos. Revolt and Reduction of Babylon, &c. FourtH Book: MELPOMENE. Description of Scythia. Hatred of Foreign Customs. March of Darius through Scythia. Customs of the Libyans, &c. Firra Book : TERPSICHORE. Customs of the Thracians. Submission of Macedonia. Recent History of Sparta. “Recent History of Athens. Defeat of the Greeks. Persians recover the Hellespont, &c. 8 HERODOTUS: HIS WORKS Srxto Book: Erato. Miletus threatened by the Persians. Fall of Miletus. Phoenicians Ravage the Chersonese. Submission of Atgina and the Islands. Account of Miltiades. Persians land at Marathon. Division among Athenian Generals. Battle of Marathon. Return of the Expedition to Asia, &c. SEVENTH Book: POLYMNIA. Preparations of Darius against Greece. Death of Darius. Preparations of Xerxes. Xerxes reaches Sardis. Reviews his Troops. Alarm of the Greeks. Themistocles. Pass of Thermopylae. Death of Leonidas. Passage of the Persians, &c. E1autuH Book: URANIA. The Greek Fleet at Artemisium. Proceedings of Themistocles. Terrible Storm. Discomfiture of the Persians. Persian Fleet at Phalerum. Battle of Salamis. Exploit of Aristides. Xerxes’ March to the Helles- pont. Honours paid to Themistocles, &c. NintoH Book: CALLIOPE. Mardonius marches against Athens. Warned by the Argives Retreats. Battle of Plateea. Mardonius Slain. Siege of Thebes. Battle of Mycalé. Persians retreat to Sardis. Athenians return, bringing the Shore Cables of Xerxes’ Bridges, &c. THUCYDIDES 471*-402 B.C. GREATEST GREEK HISTORIAN THUCYDIDES was a native of Halimus, a demos of Attica, dependent upon the phyle Leontis. He was related to Cimon, son of Miltiades, the hero of Marathon, and was also allied to the kings of Thrace, Cimon having married one of them—Olorus. The father of Thucydides was likewise named Olorus, and the future historian married, at an early age, a very rich lady of Scapte Hyle, who was the owner of gold mines in that part of Thrace which is opposite to the island of Thasus. Thucydides was educated in philosophy by Anaxagoras, and in eloquence by Antiphon. It is recorded that when Herodotus read fragments of his History at the Olympian Games (B.C. 456) the applause he elicited aroused the enthu- siasm of Thucydides, then fifteen years of age, who at once resolved to follow in the footsteps of the Father of History. As to the authenticity of this story critics are divided in opinion. At all events a long time elapsed before he gave outward proofs of his vocation, for up to the mature age of forty-five, Thucydides was known only as one of the most wealthy per- sonages of his day. His enormous riches, indeed, gave rise to all kinds of suspicions, and finally were the cause of his losing the popular favour. In the eighth year of the Peloponnesian war he was entrusted with a THUCYDIDES: & military command in Thrace, and resided at Thasus. At that period Thrace was partly under the dominion of Athens. Amphipolis, besieged by Brasidas, implored the assistance of Thucydides, who, if his political adversaries are to be believed, was so very slow in getting his troops together, that he was unable to prevent the capture of Amphipolis, and only succeeded, with the utmost difficulty, im saving Hion, where he had taken refuge, and whither Brasidas went to besiege him. Thucydides, on the contrary, maintains that his conduct was without reproach; that he sacrificed a considerable part of his private fortune in equipping the troops and hastening the expedition ; and that if he were unable to save Amphi- polis it was owing to the circumstance that Brasidas, dreading his approach, bribed some of the principal citizens to surrender the place, as soon as he knew the Athenian general was encamped near Eion, and this, of course, rendered useless the succour which the latter brought to the besieged city. However this may be, the demagogue Cleon accused Thucydides, and easily procured the condemnation of a man whose military capacity appeared doubtful, and whose immense wealth made him an object of suspicion. Thucydides was accordingly sent into banishment. The majority of his biographers assert that he withdrew to Thasus, and there undertook the composition of his “ History of the Peloponnesian War,” which has given immortality to his name; but in point of fact Thasus remained for thirteen years longer under the dominion of Athens, and con- sequently he could not have resided there after his banishment. It is probable that Thucydides passed those thirteen years in the Peloponnesus itself, that is to say in the enemy’s country. He says himself that he was thoroughly conversant with the affairs of Lacedamonia, “on account of his exile”; and as a conscientious and veracious historian he must have made it his duty to visit the scene of the events which he intended to narrate. At great expense he collected for his History a mass of documents and authorities which could not have been so complete if they had not been gathered on the spot. Thucydides passed the latter years of his life at Scapte Hyle, where he possessed extensive domains. It was there that he gave the finishing touch to his book, which he brought down only to the twenty-second year of the Peloponnesian war, from which period it was continued by Theopompus and Xenophon. Hy SSN = y WSK SSS SS S==S== ——— LIBRARY. OF THE UDIVERSITY OF ILLINGT3 THUCYDIDES 3 Thucydides obtained permission to return to Athens when Thrasibulus restored the democratic government and proclaimed an amnesty. A special decree was, however, necessary for the recall of Thucydides, who as a descendant of the Pisistratidse, was excluded from the operation of the general pardon. The decree was granted at the instance of Oenobius, to whom, on account of this good action, a statue was erected in the Akropolis. It is far from certain whether Thucydides ever took advantage of this decree and revisited his native land. He came to a tragic end, being assassinated by robbers, most probably at Scapte Hyle. Thucydides excelled in the two great points which form a just his- torian, truth and eloquence. The voice of antiquity is unanimous in lauding his veracity ; never is the slightest doubt raised in this respect. He was uninfluenced by fear or flattery, and, as he himself says, his only thought in writing was for posterity. It is not the historian, but the history itself, that seems to speak. He wanted no opportunities of knowing the truth, and he does not appear to have misrepresented it ; for though some have fancied him to be a little malevolent towards his country, because the usage he had received would have made most men so, yet he has not written anything that discovers such a passion. His manner of writing is coherent, perspi- cuous, and persuasive, yet close, strong, and pithy. The ancients have spoken of him in the highest terms; and if Herodotus, as his senior, obtained the title of “The Father of History” it is generally admitted that Thucydides is the better historian. Plutarch says that Thucydides “aims always at this, to make his auditor a spectator, and to excite in his reader the same passions with those who were beholders.” Then, enume- rating some examples, “these things,” he says, “are so described, and so evidently set before our eyes, that the mind of the reader is no less affected, than if he had been present in the actions.” Confiding in-the consciousness of his genius, Thucydides did not fear to predict that his work would go down to the remotest ages as a monument ever profitable to all; and the succeeding ages have confirmed his prophecy. Nothing now remains of the masterpieces of the great painters of his time, and we possess but a few fragments of the works of the illustrious sculptors and architects who were contemporary with him, but the work of Thucydides himself still exists, and can never perish, so that in future ages men will always admire Pericles, Brasidas, Nicias, Alcibiades, Antiphon, and the other great men whose characters he has drawn. DEMOSTHENES 385-322 B.C. GREATEST ORATOR OF THE WORLD THE greatest of the orators of antiquity was a native of the demos of Peeania near Athens, being the son of an armourer, who had acquired, by the exercise of his calling, a handsome fortune. ‘The father, at his death, entrusted his son to the guardianship of two of his cousins and one of his friends. These guardians, unfaithful to their trust, recklessly squandered nearly the whole of the property. It appears nevertheless that Demosthenes received an excellent education. According to a tradition handed down by Plutarch, and generally adopted, it was while listening to the eloquence of Callistratus, one of the glories of the Athenian bar, that Demosthenes first felt within him a strong desire to become an orator. On coming of age he summoned his guardians before the public tribunals, and pleaded against them with such success that one of them was condemned to pay him ten talents. This was the first time Demosthenes distinguished himself by his eloquence, but these attempts revealed to him his shortcomings as an orator. He had to contend with serious physical defects, and the means he employed to remedy them have been frequently cited as an example of rare energy and 2 DEMOSTHENES perseverance. He had an impediment in his speech, which for a long time would not suffer him to pronounce the letter R. Moreover he had a weak voice, a short breath, and a very uncouth and ungracious manner; yet by dint of resolution and infinite pains he overcame all these defects. He accus- tomed himself to climb up steep and craggy places to facilitate his breathing and strengthen his voice ; he declaimed with pebbles in his mouth to remedy the imperfection in his speech; he placed a looking-glass before him to correct the awkwardness of his gesture; and he learned of the best actors the proper graces of action and pronunciation, which he thought of so much con- sequence that he made the whole art of oratory in a manner to consist of them. But whatever stress he laid upon the exterior part of speaking, he was also very careful about the matter and style, forming the latter upon the model of Thucydides, whose history for that purpose he transcribed eight several times. So intent was he upon his study that he would often retire into a cave of the earth, and shave half his head, so that he could not with decency appear abroad till his hair was grown again. He also accustomed himself to harangue on the sea-shore, where the agitation of the waves gave him an idea of the motions in a popular assembly, and served to prepare and fortify him against them. Doubtless it was this energetic application to study which led those who envied his success to say that his orations “smelt of the lamp ;” but he could truly retort that his lamp did not shine on the same kind of works as theirs. _ An interval of several years elapsed before he reappeared in the . tribune, but this time his eloquence achieved the most signal and the most brilliant success. His orations laid the foundation of his reputation, which became so great that in 355 B.c. he was raised to the dignity of a member of the council. He was now about to enter into the most brilliant phase of his career, when he showed himself to be at once an ardent patriot, a consummate statesman, and an irresistible orator. He exerted all his influence and all his eloquence to thwart the ambitious designs of Philip, king of Macedonia, who, meditating the subju- gation of Greece, developed his plan of aggrandisement and made slow but sure progress towards the attainment of his object, by employing, in turn, deceit, power, and corruption. Demosthenes was the first to divine the real character of Philip’s policy ;. he watched its gradual development ; and when he thought the opportune moment had arrived, his voice, echoing from the u 4 i st coe : ] Mit ‘i LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINT'S DEMOSTHENES 3 tribune of Athens to every corner of Greece, denounced the ambitious projects of the tyrant. Each new undertaking and every fresh invasion was the signal for a renewed outburst of fervid eloquence on the part of Demosthenes; and, for more than fifteen years, Philip was unable to take a step in advance without finding himself confronted by this unyielding adver- sary, whom he feared more than all the fleets and armies of the Athenians. It was against the King of Macedonia that he directed those marvellous orations which are known under the name of the “ Philippics,” or “Qlynthiacs”; and he succeeded at last in forming against that monarch a league, at the head of which were Athens and Thebes. The orator was himself present at the battle of Chzeronea, which placed Greece at the mercy of Philip. On the death of that king the hopes of Demosthenes revived, and at his instigation the Greek cities again formed a league against Macedonia. Alexander repressed this renewed attempt at independence by the destruction of Thebes, but he pardoned Athens and her patriotic orator. In the years which followed these events the city resounded with accusations of venality. Aischines, the representative of the Macedo- nian party, indirectly brought a charge against Demosthenes by attacking Ctesiphon, who had promoted the decree under which Demosthenes had been crowned for his patriotism. This gave rise to the famous discourse “Of the Crown.” Being compelled to justify himself for having given to his country advice which only brought about disasters, the. grand orator triumphed over his base adversary by opposing to the materialist doctrine of interest the sublime philosophy of duty, of honour, and of devotion to one’s country. He was less successful when the same antipathies obliged him to exile himself from Athens in consequence of a charge— apparently calumnious—of having accepted a bribe from the governor of Babylon. After Alexander’s death Demosthenes was restored, his entry into Athens being marked with every demonstration of joy. He became the soul of a new league which was formed among the Greek cities against the Macedonians. The confederacy was broken up, however, by Antipater, and Demosthenes retired to theisland of Calauria off the coast of Argolis, where, being still pursued by the satellites of Antipater, he terminated his life by poisoning himself in the Temple of Neptune. The orations of Demosthenes, of which sixty-one have been preserved, are the most sublime monuments of human eloquence and patriotism. 381 366 364 396 355 352 349 346 344. 343 341 338 330 324 322 DEMOSTHENES CHRONOLOGY OF HIS LIFE DATE OF BIRTH. ADMITTED TO CITIZENSHIP . ACCUSES HIS GUARDIAN BEGINS CAREER AS STATESMAN . “IN ANDROTIONEM,” “IN LEPTINEM,” “IN ZENO- THEMIM” ‘PHICIEE Geis SOLYNTHIACS ail eit AMBASSADOR TO PHILIP obo LEE PIG RE : : AMBASSADOR TO PELOPONNESUS “PHILLIP PIO Asia Vane AT CHATRONEIA “DE CORONA” : - : : : : : PROSECUTED FOR RECEIVING BRIBES FROM HARPALUS DIED AT CALAURIA 15 Ly, 25 26 29 32 35 37 38 40 43 51 57 59 CICERO 106-43 B.C. GREATEST CRITIC OF ANTIQUITY History, says Coleridge, is resolvable into a series of biographies of a few earnest and powerful men. For the large results of human action, which are the proper subject of history, are traceable ultimately, not to the masses that play their noisy bustling part upon the stage of life, but to a few com- manding minds that move them. In some cases this control is exercised by one who takes no part in the actions he has inspired; in others, by men who themselves act with those they lead. To the latter class belongs M. Tullius Cicero, the great Roman orator, perhaps, with one decisive exception, the greatest master in all time of the art of eloquent speech. For more than thirty years he was one of the most conspicuous figures in the political and forensic fields of the Roman republic, holding public office for more than twenty years, and wielding so powerful an influence that each political party coveted to have him on its side, and felt its strength augmented or impaired by his accession or withdrawal. His lot was cast in the last age of the great Republic; a turbulent time, full of harsh discords and brutal deeds, the out- come and the evidence of conflicting personal ambitions and rivalries, which rushed in to fill the place left almost void of the old pure patriotism. 2 CERI Among his eminent contemporaries were Sylla, Pompey, Cesar, Cato, Antony, Brutus, and Cassius. The orator was the eldest son of M. Tullius Cicero and his wife Helvia, both of honourable descent, and was born at the family seat near Arpinum,— the birthplace likewise of Caius Marius—January 3, B.c. 106. His father spared no pains to give him the best education then to be had, especially with a view to fitting him for the public service. Neither his health nor his tastes qualified him for a soldier’s life; he therefore chose, as the next best path to advancement, the profession of the law. He applied himself to a wide variety of studies under the most eminent teachers, and attended diligently the pleadings in the law courts and the public speeches of the magistrates. He cultivated poetical composition and produced several original works and translations; but this was merely boyish play and was soon dropped. He served one campaign in the Social War, under Cn. Pompeius Strabo, father of Pompey the Great, and then he had done with soldiering. At length, in B.c. 81, when Sylla had overthrown not only the Marian party but the constitution itself, and had assumed the dictatorship, Cicero made his first appearance as a pleader. By his second oration, in defence of Sextus Roscius against a charge of parricide, he won high distinction, and also ran the risk of the dictator's displeasure. He soon after left Rome, and continued his studies at Athens, in Asia Minor, and at Rhodes for two years. After the death of Sylla he returned to Rome, and in 75 entered upon his official career as queestor in Sicily. By his justice and integrity in this capacity he endeared himself to the people. At the request of the Sicilians he undertook in 70 the impeachment of Verres, who, as praetor in the island, had been guilty of scandalous extortion and cruelty. So gross was the case, and so overwhelming the evidence, that Hortensius, the advocate of Verres, threw up his brief, and the defendant went into exile. Meanwhile, Cicero had been elected edile. In the year of his preetorship (66) he delivered the great speech (pro lege Manilia), which secured for Pompey the command in the Mithridatic war, and the virtual dictatorship of the East. The object of his highest ambition was attained in 64, when he was chosen one of the consuls for the ensuing year. At this election one of his competitors was Catiline; and in order to exclude the latter the senatorial and popular parties joined their forces in supporting Cicero. The Fase BRR Se al LIBRARY QF THE >, UIMVERSITY OF ILLING'TS CICERO 3 orator now allied himself with the aristocratic party, and step by step alienated his former friends. His consulship was rendered memorable by his discovery and frustration of the conspiracy of Catiline. The decisive energy which he displayed in this emergency was hardly paralleled on any subsequent occasion. ‘The service which he had rendered was nothing less than the salvation of the republic, for which he was abundantly honoured, and received the title of “father of his country.” But his vanity showed itself offensively in continual boasting; and this, with other causes, con- tributed to the decline of his popularity. Early in 58 proceedings were begun by Clodius, as Ceesar’s tool, to bring about the banishment of Cicero. The friends he had trusted in left him to his fate, and by the advice of Cato he quitted Rome and Italy to wait for better times. But his courage failed him, and he poured forth unmanly lamentations. Rome, with its Senate- house and its forum, was his world. “ Hence banished is banished from the world, And world’s exile is death.” A bill, however, was passed the next year for his recall; and his return along the Appian Way was a kind of triumph. Liberal compensation was awarded to him for the loss of his property and the destruction of his houses. He now confined himself mostly to professional pursuits, and avoided entangling himself in political affairs. In 53 he was admitted to the College of Augurs, and the next year he reluctantly accepted the post of governor of Cilicia. When he returned to Rome at the beginning of 49 the second civil war was on the point of breaking out between Cesar and Pompey. After much hesitation Cicero joined Pompey in the East. The next year, however, Ceesar, victor at Pharsalia, became master of the Roman world, and Cicero turned his back on the vanquished; but he did not venture to show himself at Rome until the autumn of 47, when Cesar visited him in his retreat at Brundisium, and gave him permission to return. Cicero now shut himself up with his books, and busied himself with the composition of his works on philosophy and rhetoric. But domestic troubles pressed upon him in his seclusion. He had now reached his sixty-first year, and after more than thirty years of married life he divorced his wife Terentia. The reasons for this step are not clearly known, but are con- ceivable. Almost immediately afterwards he married his young and wealthy 4 CIGZKOG ward Publilia. He was embarrassed with debt at the time. Soon after this second marriage his only daughter, Tullia, deeply beloved, died in childbed. This was the sharpest sorrow of his life. He had but just before parted with his only son, and before the year closed he had divorced his young wife, in whom he did not find the sympathy and consolation he needed. From public failures and private distresses he turned the more earnestly to his books and his philosophy. During this period he appeared to be the intimate friend of Cesar; but when Cesar had fallen by the hands of Brutus and his fellow con- spirators (Ides of March, 44), Cicero openly applauded the deed, and took the part of the republicans. There is no evidence that he was privy to the conspiracy, but it is hardly possible to believe that he knew nothing of it. He fled from Rome, but soon returned, and, rising to the height of the great occasion, he displayed, in opposition to Antony, a vigour and an energy long unusual with him. In rapid succession he now delivered the series of fourteen orations against Antony, which he named after the ‘ Philippics” of Demosthenes, and which rank among the most powerful of his speeches. This magnificent effort cost him his life. Antony could not forgive him; and when a proscription was planned by the Triumvirs, Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus, Antony demanded the life of Cicero. As soon as the tidings reached him at his Tusculan villa, he fled, hoping to escape by sea; but he was overtaken in a wood by night, and, forbidding his attendants to resist, his head and hands were struck off by the pursuers (December 7, 43). They were sent to Rome, and with unpardonable brutality were exposed, by command of Antony, on the rostra, the scene of the orator’s living triumphs. The character of Cicero has been depicted by panegyrists, and by calumniators. As usual, the truth probably lies between the extreme views. As a man he was distinguished by steadfast integrity and justice, “ faithful among the faithless” of the time. Learned, philosophic, and genial, he won a host of friends, and was singularly free from envy and jealousy of rivals. As a statesman, indeed, he failed to fulfil the promise of his early manhood, chiefly for want of the robustness of character which was needed to cope with the difficulties and dangers of the evil times on which he had fallen. As an author, both by his orations and his writings on speculative and political philosophy, he takes a very high place, and has reaped the admiration and CICERO 5 love of thoughtful students through generation after generation. He does not, indeed, bear the palm of the originator or discoverer in philosophy, but the merit of lucid expositor. He loved Plato chiefly, and founded his dialogues “The Republic” and “The Laws” on the great works of Plato bearing the same titles. In other treatises. or dialogues, the “ De Officiis,” “ Academica,” “ De Finibus,” “ Tusculanz Disputationes,” “‘ De Natura Deorum,” &c., he sets forth and discusses the doctrines of various Greek philosophers on the most concerning questions of human existence. Last, not least, among his writings are to be named his “ Familiar Letters,” of which about eight hundred are extant, half of them being addressed to his lifelong friend Atticus. “These,” says Middleton, his admiring English biographer, “ may justly be called the memoirs of the times, for they contain not only a distinct account of every memorable event, but lay open the springs and motives whence each of them proceeded.” His works as a whole form the most authentic monuments of the events of his age. Moreover, in addition to their intrinsic worth, philo- sophical, historical, and biographical, they possess the charm of consummate literary style, and present to us the Latin language at its highest pitch of development. CICEHRO CHRONOLOGY OF HIS LIFE 106 BORN AT ARPINUM. 91 RECEIVES THE TOGA 87-84 “DE INVENTIONE RHETORICA . 81 BEGINS TO PLEAD 79-77 TRAVELS AND STUDIES; AT ATHENS, ASIA MINOR, RHODES 75 QUAUSTOR IN SICILY 70 “IN VERREM ACTIO” 63 CONSUL; DEFEATS CONSPIRACY OF CATILINE 62 “PRO P. CORNELIO SULLA” 58 RETIRES TO THESSALONICA . 54 “PRO CRASSO;” “PRO AAMILIO SCAURO” 51 PROCONSUL OF CILICIA; “DE REPUBLICA” 45 DEATH OF DAUGHTER TULLIA 43 PHILIPPIC I. TO IV.; PUT TO DEATH CICERO: HIS WORKS WORKS OF CICERO CLASSIFIED. [FROM SMITH’S DICTIONARY. | I. PHILOSOPHICAL. A. Puitosopuy oF Taste: On Rhetoric, Oratory, &. B. PorrricAL Putmosopuy: Republic, Laws, Jurisprudence, &c. C. Puitosopuy oF Morats: De Offcus, Virtue, Cato, Old Age, Friend- ship, &c. D. SPECULATIVE PuiLosopHy: De Finibus, Tusculum Disputations, Tim- meus, Protagoras, &c. E. TuHEroLtocy: Nature of God, Divination, Fate, &c. II. SPEECHES. Quincrius, Roscius, VARENUS, VERRES, MANLIUS, CATILINE, &c. II. CORRESPONDENCE. Famintiar Lerrers; Episttes to Arricus; LETTERS To A BROTHER; LETTERS To BRUTUS. IV. POLITICAL, HISTORICAL, AND MISCELLANEOUS. Translations from Homer, Poems upon his own Life, Elegiac and Epigrammatic Fragments, History of his own Consulate, Adaptation of Economy of Xenophon, &c. ne ‘ey PACTLUS Aeros lelcs GREATEST OF THE HISTORIANS Carus CorNELIvus Tacitus is supposed to have been a native of Interamna (Terni), in Umbria, and it has been assumed, with every appearance of probability, that he was the son of Cornelius Tacitus, a procurator appointed by the Emperor to manage the Imperial revenue and govern a province in Belgic Gaul. In his youth he cultivated poetry, as we learn from his correspondence with the younger Pliny; and it has been conjectured that he sat at the feet of Quintilian, though on this point there is no direct evidence. It is not known, indeed, where he was educated, but it is clear that he did not imbibe the smallest tincture of that frivolous science, and that vicious eloquence which in his time debased the Roman genius. His character, most probably, was formed upon the plan adopted in the time of the republic ; and, with the help of a sound scheme of home discipline, and the best domestic example, he grew up, in a course of virtue, to that vigour of mind which gives such animation to his writings. His first ambition was to distinguish himself at the bar. At an early age he married the daughter of Agricola, and this matrimonial alliance is a sufficient proof that he occupied a position of considerable rank in Rome. 2 "TACITUS He himself informs us that he began his career of civil preferment during the reign of Vespasian. ‘ Vespasian,” he says, “began my fortune; Titus increased it ; Domitian completed it.” Under Domitian he was Preetor, and also a Senator. In the seventh year of that tyrant’s reign Tacitus and his wife left the city of Rome, and absented themselves for more than four years. Some writers, willing to exalt the virtue of Tacitus, and to aggravate the injustice of Domitian, assert that Tacitus was sent into banishment. This, however, is mere conjecture, without a shadow of probability to support it. In the reign of Nerva he was raised to the dignity of Consul. It was at this period that he delivered the funeral oration on the celebrated Virginius Rufus, who had twice been offered by his legions in Germany the title of Emperor, before and after the death of Nero, and who had on both occasions refused it. In honour of Virginius the Senate decreed that the rites of sepulture should be performed at the public expense. Tacitus delivered the funeral oration from the rostrum, and the applause of such an orator, Pliny says, was sufficient to crown the glory of a well-spent life. This discourse unfortunately has not been preserved. Tacitus had, it appears, already written the “ Dialogue on the Causes of the Decline of Eloquence”; and at the close of Nerva’s reign he composed the “ Life of Agricola,” his father-in-law, which is regarded as the master- piece of historical panegyrics. ‘To Englishmen this life is peculiarly interesting, as Britain was the scene of the great exploits of Agricola, who carried the Roman eagles even to the base of the Grampian mountains. To the same period belongs the famous treatise “On the Manners and the Peoples of Germany,” which throws much light on the primitive customs of the Teutonic race. About the time when this work appeared Tacitus gained a great oratorical success by preferring, along with Pliny, on behalf of the province of Africa, a charge against the proconsul Marius Priscus. The “ Life of Agricola” and the “Manners of the Germans” had already appeared when Tacitus wrote his “ Histories.” Of this grand work, which gave an account of contemporary events from the reign of Galba to the death of Domitian, we possess only the first four books, and the beginning of the fifth, but we can form an estimate of the loss history has sustained if we reflect that the portions now extant only comprise one year and a few months. od rs aA avy re a LIBRARY ~ a OF THE LAIVERSITY OF ILLING'S it TAGLLOS 5 The “ Annals” followed, including a period of fifty-four years. The style of these “ Annals” differs from that of the “ Histories,” which required stately periods, pomp of expression, and harmonious sentences. The “ Annals” are written in a strain more subdued and temperate; every phrase is a maxim; the narrative goes on with rapidity; the author is sparing of words and prodigal of sentiment; the characters are drawn with a profound knowledge of human nature, and when we see them figuring on the stage of public business, we perceive the internal spring of their actions; we see their motives at work, and, of course, are prepared to judge of their conduct. His “ Pleadings,” his collection of “ Witty Sayings,” and his “ Poems” are lost. Of the life of Tacitus we really know scarcely anything, and even the date of his death has not been ascertained. With respect to his private life nothing has been recorded; we only know that he was on terms of the closest friendship with Pliny the younger. There is every reason to believe, however, that Tacitus was a celebrity at Rome, as well as his friend, and on this point a charming anecdote has been preserved. Tacitus being present one day at the games of the circus, he entered into conversation with a Roman knight, who asked him whether he was an Italian or a provincial. “JT am not altogether unknown to you,” replied Tacitus, “and it is to literature that I owe this advantage.” “Then you are either Tacitus or Pliny,” rejoined the stranger. The commentators assume that he must have left issue, because they find that M. Claudius Tacitus, who was created Emperor in A.D. 275, deduced his pedigree from the historian. We are told, besides, that the Emperor ordered the statue of Tacitus, and a complete collection of his works, to be placed in the public archives, with a special direction that twelve copies should be made every year at the public expense; but when the mutilated state in which the author’s works have come down to posterity is considered, there is reason to believe that the orders of this Emperor, who reigned only six months, were never executed. Grammatically considered, the language of Tacitus has grave defects, but in style, that is to say, colour, movement, harmony of expression, poetry, and soul—the life of all eloquence—there is hardly any author, either in prose or verse, who is superior to Tacitus. Racine has not equalled him in 4 | PACTEUS his description of the death of Britannicus, while Virgil’s episode of the death of Priam and the desolation of Troy can at most only be compared with the picture of the death of Galba and the revolution of Rome. It is this deep and true pathos which makes the historical narrative and the philosophy of Tacitus rise superior to the rapid and vigorous declamation of Sallust. 61 88 96 97 98 99 LUT AP ia (@ IEE UE fe CHRONOLOGY OF HIS LIFE DATE OF BIRTH. PRASTOR . “VITA AGRICOLA” CONSUL SUFFECTUS “ HISTORLA” CONDUCTS PROSECUTION OF MARIUS. DATE OF DEATH AGE BOOK th. Il. III. Ve WA XI. Ea NeN ATE SOT aAT@ ERs ABSTRACT OF CONTENTS. The Family of Augustus. Character of Tiberius. Accession of Tiberius. Sedition in Pannonia. Disturbances in Germany. Policy of Tiberius, &e. Commotions in Parthia. Defeat of the Germans. War in Africa. Death of Germanicus, &e. Agrippina returns to Rome. Accusation of Lepida. Nero, son of Germanicus. Insurrection in Gaul. Tiberius on the Luxury of the Times, &c. Corrupt Practices of Sejanus. Drusus poisoned. End of African War. Insurrection in Thrace.. Tiberius retires to Campania. Increased power of Sejanus, &c. . Agrippina and her son accused. Tiberius accuses his grand- children. A counterfeit Drusus in Greece. Remarkable Letter of Tiberius. Death of Agrippma. Intrigues among the Parthians. Fire at Rome. Death of Tiberius, &c. . Asiaticus and Poppeea accused. Acts of Claudius as Censor. Marriage of Messalina and Silius. Messalina denounced and executed, &c. Agrippina chosen Empress. Successes in Parthia. War in Britain. Caractacus brought to Rome. Nero and Britannicus. Claudius poisoned, &e. 8 ANNALS OF TACITUS “BOOK XIII. Nero succeeds to the Empire. Britannicus poisoned. Agrippina accused. XIV. Influence of Poppa. Attempt to drown Agrippina. Nero's remorse. Nero appears on the Stage. The Britons under Boadicea. Seneca calumniated. Sylla and Plautus assassinated. Octavia put to death, Wc. XV. Armenia invaded by Vologeses. Roman Legions besieged. Nero’s daughter Augusta. Great fire at Rome. Christians accused. Last moments of Seneca, &c. XVI. Nero performs on the Stage. Character of C. Petronius. Thrasea accused. Senate intimidated. Thrasea prepares to die. PLUTARCH ail. Sia TPA PATHER OF BIOGRAPHY Turis great philosopher and historian of antiquity was a native of Cheronea, in Beeotia, but he was far from partaking of the proverbial dulness of the people of that country. He belonged to a good family, members of which occupied those high municipal offices that he himself in turn filled when he went back to settle at Cheeronea after his long travels. He held it to be a point of honour to give to the place of his birth some of the celebrity he had himself acquired. “Born in a little town,” he used to say, with simple pride, “I love to live there in order that it should not become still smaller.” Plutarch prosecuted his studies at Athens, under Ammonius of Alexandria, in whose house he dwelt. His preliminary education having been completed, he set out upon his travels, first visiting Egypt, where he began to accumulate his vast stores of historical and mythological lore. In his treatise of “Isis and Osiris” he has described the principal ideas he entertained of the Egyptian religion, and this work possesses for us a singular interest. From this period Plutarch systematically wrote down descriptions of what he saw, diligently examined public and private records, and composed collections of memoirs which eventually were of the greatest use to the historian and the moralist. On his return to Greece he visited 2 PLUIARGIA the principal academies, and resided for some time at Sparta for the express purpose of studying on the spot the mechanism of its ancient government and of its legislation. Wherever he went he gathered facts and notable sayings, consulting, for the purpose, books, statues, medals, inscriptions, and paintings. ‘“ He appears,” says one of his ancient bio- graphers, “to have had his memory always engaged in collecting informa- tion, and his judgment ceaselessly occupied in discerning what it was necessary to reject or to retain.” Applying the same attention to the study of the positive sciences, and then to medicine, to the laws of health, and to other matters of a practical kind, and being eager, above all things, to become acquainted with the history and the developments of the philo- sophical sects, Plutarch remained ignorant of nothing that was known in his time. This laborious preparation gives us a sufficiently lofty idea of the multifarious study and research necessary to be pursued by those who wished to follow the profession of a sophist, for that was the profession to which Plutarch aspired, and which he practised for a long time in Rome. Before repairing to that great capital, he was sent by his fellow-citizens on a mission to the proconsul of Achaia—a circumstance which attests the public esteem he was already beginning to enjoy. It was long believed, on the authority of Suidas, that he was the tutor of Trajan, who, on being raised to the Imperial purple, appointed him consul, and heaped honours and wealth upon him. This is, however, a mere invention. It is probable that Plutarch’s residence in Rome, which extended over more than a quarter of a century, was interrupted by frequent visits to Greece. During his long stay in the Eternal City he did not find time, according to his own admission, to acquire a knowledge of the Latin tongue. He learnt, indeed, the names of ordinary objects, but it was not till late in life that he applied himself to the study of Latin literature. Many celebrated Greeks attended his courses of philosophy, and not a few of his auditors belonged to the Roman aristocracy, Plutarch spoke fluently, being aided by notes carefully prepared beforehand, which in his old age he edited, and gave to his thoughts the form in which they have descended to us. In the same way he has preserved in his “Table Talk” the substance of familiar conversations which he held, chiefly at Rome, with men of rank and talent; so that it is possible to follow the development of his ideas and his doctrines during that long space of time. Ay My + Llon, sat Oh THE LiAiVERSITY OF ILLINGD3 PLUTARCH 3 From various passages in his works it appears that while at Rome he was also entrusted by his fellow-citizens with some kind of public office, like that of the modern chargé @affaires, and it is to be regretted that he has not more fully explained the nature and the duties of this post. The period at which he returned to establish himself at Cheronea is uncertain. He was there elected archon, and then he filled the humble post of inspector of buildings. His renown was at this time spread all over Greece. Athens accorded to him the right of citizenship; Corinth and Elis invited him to their grand civic feasts; he was priest of the Oracle of Apollo at Delphi. Foreigners who visited the principal cities of Greece went to see him, and accounted it an honour to be received at his house. His home was that of a sage, and he lived in tranquillity in the midst of his family. In this quiet retirement Plutarch, reposing at the close of an extremely laborious life, put in order his voluminous notes and documents, and com- posed the works which have made his name immortal—the “ Moralia,” or Ethical works, and the famous “ Parallel Lives.” The “ Moralia” consist of the lectures and improvisations which, according to the fashion of the time, he delivered wherever he went. They possess great and varied merits, but are inferior to the “ Lives,” which contain an account of forty-six Greeks and Romans, arranged in pairs. Some scholars have underrated the value of Plutarch’s “ Lives,” and have charged him with inaccuracy and plagiarism. In spite, however, of certain reserves that criticism might make, the ‘ Parallel Lives” is assuredly one of the most excellent books which honour humanity. In it are found a remarkable moral elevation, a rare knowledge of the human heart, immense erudition, and marvellous skill of narration. It has been, in modern times, the book of antiquity which has had the most powerful attractions for statesmen, moralists, and dramatic authors, that is to say, for the men who want to know the human heart in order to make use of it, to direct it, or to depict it. Shakspeare has taken from Plutarch the subjects of three of his plays; and an able scholar of our own day has truly remarked that Plutarch’s “ Lives” is, and will remain, in spite of all the fault that can be found with it by plodding collectors of facts and small critics, the book of those who can nobly think, and dare, and do. It is a mirror in which all men may look at themselves. PLUTARCH’S LIVES GREEK AND ROMAN HEROES COMPARED. . Theseus and Romulus. . Lycurgus and Numa. . Solon and Publicola. . Themistocles and Camillus. . Pericles and Fabius Maximus. . Alcibiades and Coriolanus. . Timoleon and Paulus Aimilius. . Pelopidas and Marcellus. . Aristides and Cato the Censor. . Philopemen and T. Q. Fla- minius. . Pyrrhus and Caius Marius. . Lysander and Sylla. . Cimon and Lucullus. . Nicias and Marcus Crassus. XV XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XOX, SOME XXII. XOX TLL YORU OY, OV: Eumenes and Sertorius. Agesilaus and Pompey. Alexander and Julius Cesar. Phocion and Cato the Younger. Agis, Cleomenes, and Tibe- rius and Caius Gracchus. Demosthenes and Cicero. Demetrius and Antony. Dion and Brutus. Artaxerxes. Aratus. Galba. Otho. MONTAIGN E 1533-1592 THE MODERN ESSAY For the clear manifestation and further discovery of truth, it cannot but be desirable that every mood natural to the human mind should be well repre- sented in literature. In all fields of inquiry we have knowledge, belief, opinion, and doubt; and it is well that in books, besides the exposition of the things we know, believe, or opine, room should be found for the statement of honest doubt. There are, indeed, men and societies of men with whom it is a settled axiom that “doubt is devil-born.” If this were true, the only wise course, if a possible one, would be war to the death against it. As well strike at Hamlet’s ghost ; “For it is as the air invulnerable, And our vain blows malicious mockery.” Without going so far as to accept the paradoxical suggestion that a church should be founded for the doubters, it is clearly the part of a wise and fair- minded man to lend an ear not only to the man who says “I know,” and to him who says “I believe,” but also to him who says “ I doubt.” Outside the circle of systematic philosophies, Montaigne is the greatest representative of the doubting habit of mind or of Scepticism. He was the first writer of his age to adopt it, and he more than any other contributed to make it current in his own country. By translations his work soon 2 MONTAIGNE became known in other lands; and his reputation has widened and grown stronger with the lapse of time. At the present day his name is one of the few great ones ever on the world’s large tongue; the facts of his biography are the subject of ever-renewed investigations; and his writings rank with the greatest treasures of cultivated minds in all nations. His countrymen have coined a special term to designate the study of his life and works— Montaignologie. Michel, seigneur de Montaigne, was born at the family seat, the chateau of Montaigne in Périgord, in 1533. The sixty years of his life covered one of the great periods of French and European history. At the time of his birth Luther was just completing his German Bible, having struck the first note of the Reformation fifteen years before; Calvin was about to begin preaching; and the Society of Jesus already existed in embryo in the brain of Loyola. In his manhood France was in the paroxysm of her religious wars, the climax of horrors being reached on the day of St. Bartholomew. The family name was Eyquem, from which some have conjectured that it might be of Flemish or even of English origin. The father of Michel was a noble, but not rich. The child was put out to nurse in a village, was habituated to a rude diet, and thus making acquaintance with the life of poor men became capable of a sympathy with their toils and sufferings which he never lost. He was taught Latin from his cradle, and heard no other language till he was six years old, when he was sent to the College of Guienne, at Bordeaux. Here he remained seven years, and then applied himself to the study of law. At the age of twenty-four he was appointed one of the judges of the parliament of Bordeaux. This position he held for thirteen years; but the period is almost a blank in his biography. He made several visits to Paris and the court, thus enlarging his experience of men, became acquainted with L’Hépital, and formed a friendship with Etienne de la Boétie, which was too soon terminated by the death of the latter. On succeeding to the seigneurie (1570), he resigned his office of judge, appeared again at court, and was appointed Gentleman-in-ordinary of the Bedchamber. He had married the year before, less, he says, to please himself than his friends and the world. He now spent twelve years in strict retirement in his chateau, busy with his thoughts, his books, and his pen; managing his estate; and keeping up social intercourse with his neighbours, by whom he was held in high esteem for his practical wisdom ny) f ‘ vi) iH LIBRARY GF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINT'S MONTAIGNE 3 and complete integrity. He began the composition of his famous “ Essays ” in 1572, the year of the Bartholomew massacre; and they were published in 1580. For the sake of his health, which, though seldom good after middle age, he would never entrust to a doctor's direction, he spent about two years in travelling in Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. At Rome he was presented to Pope Gregory XIII., who gave him the freedom of the city. The private record which he made of this visit to Italy, after being lost sight of for two centuries, was discovered and published in 1774. During his absence in Italy he was elected mayor of Bordeaux; and being re-elected at the close of his term, held the office for four years. He then returned to his country seat. But in consequence of the war of the League and an outbreak of the plague he was driven away (1586), and for a time led an unsettled life. While at Paris (1588) he was visited by a young lady, Marie de Gournay, who from reading his “ Essays” had apparently fallen in love with him. She was accompanied by her mother. Thus began a romantic and lifelong friendship, Montaigne accepting her enthusiastic homage as that of an adopted daughter. The same year Montaigne, with. several friends, men of note, was at Blois at the time of the meeting of the States-General and the murder of the two Guises. While there he conducted the negotiation of an arrangement between the Duke of Guise and Henry of Navarre. In 1589 his friendship with Pierre Charron began. But the end was now approaching. Montaigne was subject to several painful diseases, which he bore with determined stoicism, adhering stoutly to his inherited repugnance to drugs and doctors. In the autumn of 1592 he was attacked with quinsy, and lost his voice A small party of his neighbours gathered about his bed, and mass was said. The dying man, so far as his strength allowed, showed his participation in the act of worship, and so participating died (September 13, 1592). Marie de Gournay, with her mother, made the difficult and dangerous journey across a large part of France, to mingle her sorrow and sympathy with those of the widow and only daughter of her friend in his own home. His remains were ultimately interred at Bordeaux, where a monument was erected which is still to be seen. The chateau of Montaigne, still standing, is a place of pilgrimage for many admiring students of all countries. Five editions of Montaigne’s ‘“‘ Essays” appeared in his lifetime, and another, under the care of Marie de Gournay, in 1595. From 1580 to 1650 thirty-one editions are counted. Between 1659 and 1724 no new issue was 4 MONTAIGNE called for ; but since that time new editions have continually succeeded each other. The “Essays” have been translated into almost all European lan- guages. An English translation by Florio appeared in 1603; and this is especially interesting as one of the only two books known to have been in Shakspeare’s library. His copy, bearing his autograph, is in the British Museum; and it has for companion, by a surprising chance, the copy of the same work which belonged to Ben Jonson, bearing his autograph. Another English version of a far higher character appeared in 1685. Its author was Charles Cotton, now best known as the friend of Izaak Walton. Written in racy English, and in a pithy style akin to that of Montaigne himself, it has passed through many editions, and is still a favourite. Montaigne is facile princeps among egotists. There are egotisms and egotisms. Milton was an egotist, of a very high and noble kind. Montaigne takes his place in a lower rank. Although it is idle to quarrel with facts, in literature or in life, the wish may be forgiven that he had not dealt out to us with so much relish and with so lavish a hand his personal confidences on all manner of ignoble matters. Something must be allowed for the coarse character and free customs of the age; and it must be remembered that a bookish woman was then a rara avis. After all abatements on the score of refinement, the “ Essays” remain one of the richest, most sincere, and most fascinating of books. When the king told Montaigne that he liked his book, Montaigne replied—‘“ Then your Majesty must needs like me; my book is myself.” He wrote not to please the town, not with the fear of “irresponsible reviewers” before his eyes, not by critical rule, but to please himself. Although he pours out before us abundant fruits of varied reading, chiefly of the wiser ancients, the real and resistless charm of his book is the frank revelation made in it of himself. The portrait, exposing follies and frailties as freely as their opposites, has attracted the admiring esteem of the wiser readers generation after generation. Speaking mainly out of his own experience he seems to be the spokesman of “the collective experience of humanity.” His book has been called “the breviary of free-thinkers.” It may be this, but it is much more besides. It must not be forgotten, that while Montaigne saw and insisted on the feebleness of human reason and the exceedingly narrow limits of human knowledge, he accepted, as Locke did, the authority of divine revelation, and lived and died “a good Catholic.” The biography of Montaigne by Mr. Bayle St. John forms a serviceable introduction to his works. MONTAIGNE CHRONOLOGY OF HIS LIFE 1533 BORN IN PERIGORD. 1539-46 STUDIED AT BORDEAUX 1554 1569 1580 1581 1586 1588 1592 COUNSELLOR TO PARLIAMENT OF BORDEAUX MARRIED : : : “ESSAYS”; VISITED GERMANY AND ITALY “JOURNAL DU VOYAGE DE MICHEL DE MON- TAIGNE,” ETC. ‘ : d : DRIVEN FROM HIS CHATEAU BY WAR OF THE LEAGUE : : : MEDIATED BETWEEN HENRY OF NAVARRE AND DUKE OF GUISE. DIED AT MONTAIGNE, PERIGORD AcE 6-13 99 21 36 AT MONTAIGNE: HIS WORKS LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ESSAYS. On Sorrow. On Idleness. On Liars. On Constancy. On Prognostications. On Fear. Philosophy Teaches us how to Die. On Pedantry. On Wearing Clothes. On Friendship. On Cannibals. On Democritus and Heraclitus. On Age. On Conscience. On Prayers. On Honours and Rewards. On Age. On Books. On Cruelty. On Human Ignorance. On Posts. On Bad Means employed to a Good End. On not Counterfeiting Sickness. On Thumbs. On Three Good Women. On the Resemblance of Children to their Fathers. MONTESQULIEU 1689—1755 WEE PEEEOSOPEY OF HISTORY THE eighteenth century has been as gravely disparaged by some thinkers, men of a noble type that must be heeded, as the Middle Ages by others ; and equally vigorous pleas in defence and honour have been urged in both cases. The cause of the eighteenth century must be considered as still sub judice. Whatever the ultimate judgment as to its character, its products, and its tendencies may be—and we may hope that in this, as in so many instances, the poet’s saying will be fulfilled— “And after praise and blame cometh the truth”— one fact is clear, that it has left the world the richer by some noble monu- mental works of human intellect. It has given us no “ Hamlet” or “ Lear,” no “ Paradise Lost,” nor any works of creative imagination to rank with or near these. Its labours were mostly in the region of facts, and its chief literary monuments are to be found in the fields of history, philosophy, science, and politics. Among these Montesquieu’s masterpiece, the “ Esprit des Lois,” holds a high place. Charles de Secondat, Baron de Bréde et de Montesquieu, was born of a noble family at the Chateau de la Bréde, near Bordeaux, January 18th, 1689. It was at the crisis of the English Revolution ; France was suffering from the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, effected four years earlier ; re) MONTESQUIEU and five years later Voltaire, and with him potentially a whole new world, was born. The young noble’s great abilities were early apparent, he devoted himself passionately to study, and was efficiently aided by his father. Destined for the profession of the law, he accumulated a large mass of extracts from the Civil Law, which proved to be the first part of his preparation for his great work. He began at the same time to think for himself on some deep and difficult subjects; and at the age of twenty wrote a tract to show that the idolatry of the heathen—he already loved Socrates and Plato, Cicero, Plutarch and Seneca—did not deserve eternal punishment. From prudential motives this piece was either not published or quickly sup- pressed. In 1714 he became a judge in the parliament of Bordeaux, the very court in which a century and a half before Montaigne had held the same office; and in 1716 he succeeded his uncle as president. Physical science was at this time engaging his attention—a further step in his necessary culture and training. In 1721 he astonished his countrymen with a small book entitled “ Lettres Persanes,” in which, under the guise of a travelled Persian and a mask of mirth, he satirised their follies and vices, their levity, vanity, extra- vagance, and quarrelsomeness, hitting hard and sparing no one. For the sake of contrast he held up the example of England, under the guise of a virtuous race of Troglodytes. The book appeared anonymously, but its authorship was not long concealed. Its success was immense. Montesquieu himself records that publishers, eager for other the like profitable surprises, would catch hold of authors as they passed, and beg them to write some more “ Persian Letters.” This sparkling work was translated into English by Qzell, in 1730. Its method was adopted by Goldsmith in his “ Letters from a Citizen of the World.” Montesquieu did not relish the law as a profession, his thought moving in awider sphere. “After leaving college,” he says, “they gave me law books, but I was in search of the spirit.” Having held his judicial office for ten years, he sold it and retired. In the following year he was a candidate for a seat in the French Academy; but Cardinal Fleury, then first minister, told him that the king, Louis XV., would never consent to the admission of the writer of the “ Persian Letters.” Determined not to let slip the honour of election, he altered—so states Voltaire—the offensive passages in the “ Letters,” had a new edition rapidly printed off, and presented a copy himself to the minister, who then took the trouble to read it. (The story HVA i W) = ai y J iad - ; a 3 mh LIBRARY GF THE LIVERSITY OF ILLING'S oo MONTESQUIEU 3 is differently told by D’Alembert in his “Eloge.”) The way was now opened, and in January 1728 Montesquieu was received as one of the Forty. For the enlargement of his knowledge he now spent several years in foreign travel, visiting first the Imperial Court, then Hungary, Italy, Switzer- land, Germany, Holland, and England. At Vienna he met Prince Eugene; at Venice the notorious Law, projector of the Mississippi scheme; and at Rome he associated with Cardinal Polignac. Accompanying Lord Ches- terfield to England, he was presented to Queen Caroline, who delighted in the society of the wise and learned, and was the friend of Butler and Berkeley. He made acquaintance also with many eminent men, studied the principles and the working of the English government, and was chosen a fellow of the Royal Society. His travels were followed by a studious retirement of two years; and he then gave to the world his weighty work, the ‘“ Considérations sur les Causes de la Grandeur des Romains et de leur Décadence” (1733). Henceforth he devoted himself to the preparation of the magnum opus which he had long meditated. Like Milton, he was in no hurry to publish, but was content to wait the slow furnishing of his mind and the ripening of his faculties. After entering upon his task, the growing sense of its vastness almost paralysed him, and he several times dropped and resumed it. When he had at length completed it, he sought the opinion of his friend Helvetius. This opinion was unfavourable ; and Helvetius, sup- ported by another friend, Saurin, strongly advised the author not to publish it. It would, he said, be the ruin of his reputation. He did not however alter a word ; and in 1748 the “ Esprit des Lois” appeared in two quarto volumes, printed at Geneva. It found an audience immediately, ran through twenty- two editions within eighteen months, and was famous over all Europe. The purpose of the “ Esprit des Lois” was not to set forth what governments ought to be; but to find in nature and in history the explana- tion of existing maxims and institutions of various nations; to show how diversities in physical and moral circumstances have contributed to produce diversities in government and municipal institutions. Its special interest is in its exposition of relations between sets of phenomena apparently un- related to each other. To its author pertains the distinction of being the first fully to apprehend and luminously exhibit the inward natural con- nexions between history, philosophy, politics, and jurisprudence. Fore- shadows indeed of these connexions had been seen; but the originality of 4 MONTESQUIEU Montesquieu’s views justified the proud motto on his title page—Prolem sine matre creatam. The work is pervaded by an earnest love of freedom, which in its sobriety is akin to English rather than to French aspirations. Many hostile attacks were made on the book; but only one of these, involving a charge of atheism, provoked any reply. The author published a “ Défense de l’Esprit des Lois”; and the Sorbonne, which had a sharp eye on the original work, refrained from the condemnation which it was about to issue. The influence of the “ Esprit des Lois,” which was translated into English by Nugent in 1750, is believed to have been more powerful in Great Britain than in France. It is distinctly traceable in the “ Wealth of Nations,” which appeared about thirty years later, of which Gibbon said—“ The strong ray of philosophic light on this subject which broke over Scotland in our times was but a reflection, though with a far steadier and more concentrated force, from the scattered but brilliant sparks kindled by the genius of Montesquieu.” Mackintosh, in his “ Discourse on the Study of the Law of Nature and Nations,” pronounces a noble (not a blind) eulogy on the book, and says that he never names the author without reverence. It was a favourite handbook of the lovers of “ regulated liberty,” as distinguished from the fanatics of the Revolution. Voltaire, though no friendly critic, recognised its literary quality, and said—“ Le genre humain avait perdu ses titres ; Montesquieu les a retrouvés et les lui a rendus.” The sudden blaze of reputation did not turn the head of so sober and wise a man as Montesquieu. His few remaining years were spent partly at his country seat and partly at Paris. He was a welcome guest in culti- vated society; and was beloved by the country people around his home. His private character and life were irreproachable. He married in 1715, and had two daughters and a son. His eyesight, never strong, almost entirely failed him in his later years. His health too gradually broke up; and during a visit to Paris in 1755 he had a severe illness, and died there on the 10th of February of that year. In _ his last illness he was annoyed by attempts on the part of the Jesuits to convert him; but, while avowing his regard for religion, he would have nothing to do with them. In addition to the works above named, Montesquieu wrote and appended to the “ Considérations,” a “Dialogue de Sylla et d'Eucrate,” a powerful sketch of the Dictator and of the Roman people cowed by his tyranny; a miniature classical romance entitled “ Le Temple de Gnide”; and a “ Histoire physique du Monde ancien et moderne.” The last was an early work. 1689 1714 1716 1721 1725 1728 MONTESQUIEU CHRONOLOGY OF HIS LIFE BORN AT CHATEAU DE LA BREDE. COUNSELLOR TO PARLIAMENT OF BORDEAUX PRESIDENT A MORTIER “LETTRES PERSANES” “LE TEMPLE DU GUIDE” RECEIVED AT FRENCH ACADEMY 1729-31 VISITED ENGLAND; ELECTED F.R.S. 1734 1748 1755 “CONSIDERATIONS SUR LES ROMAINS,” ETC. ‘“BSPRIT DES LOIS ” DIED AT PARIS 40-42 VII. MONTESQUIEU: HIS WORKS CONTENTS OF THE SPIRIT OF LAWS. Of Laws in General. . Of Laws directly derived from the Nature of Government. . Of the Principles of the three kinds of Government, Democracy, Aristocracy, Monarchy. . That the Laws of Education ought to be in relation to the Principles of Government. . That the Laws given by the Legislator ought to be in relation to the Principles of Government. . Consequences of the Principles of different Governments, with respect to the Simplicity of Civil and Criminal Laws, the Form of Judg- ments, and the inflicting of Punishments. Consequences of the different Principles of the three Governments with respect to Sumptuary Laws, Luxury, and the Condition of Women. . Of the Corruption of the Principles of the three Governments. . Of Laws in the Relation they bear to a Defensive force. . Of Laws in the Relation they bear to Offensive Force. . Of the Laws which establish Political Liberty, with regard to the Constitution. MONTESQUIEU: HIS WORKS XVII. XVIII. SUB . Of the Laws that form Political Liberty in relation to the Subject. . Of the Relation which the Levying of Taxes and the Greatness of the Public Revenues bear to Liberty. . Of Laws in relation to the Nature of the Climate. . In what manner the Laws of Civil Slavery relate to the Nature of the Climate. . How the Laws of Domestic Slavery bear a Relation to the Nature of the Climate. How the Laws of Political Servitude bear a Relation to the Nature of the Climate. Of Laws in the relation they bear to the Nature of the Soil. Of Laws in relation to the Principles which form the general Spirit, the Morals and Customs of a Nation. . Of Laws in relation to Commerce, considered in its Nature and Distinctions. VOLTAIRE 1694-1778 GREATEST CRITIC OF MODERN TIMES “ WHEN the right sense of historical proportion is more fully developed in men’s minds, the name of Voltaire will stand for as much as the names of the great decisive movements in the EHuropean advance, like the revival of learning or the Reformation. The existence, character, and career of this extraordinary person constituted in themselves a new and most prodigious era. The peculiarities of his individual genius changed the mind and spiritual conformation of the West with as far-spreading and invincible an effect as if the work had been wholly done, as it was actually aided, by the sweep of deep-lying, collective forces. A new type of belief and of its shadow, disbelief, was stamped by the impression of his character and work into the intelligence and feeling of his own and following times. We may think of Voltairism somewhat as we think of the Catholicism of the Renaissance or Calvinism. It was one of the cardinal liberations of the growing race, one of the emphatic manifestations of some portions of the minds of men, which an immediately foregoing system and creed had either ignored or outraged.”—Morley. Voltaire, or to give him the name of his family and youth, Francois Arouet, was the second son of a wealthy notary, and was allied to the nobility 2 VOLLALTRE by his mother. He was born at Chatenay, near Sceaux—endowed with a most surprising intelligence, but an extremely feeble constitution. His first instructors were the Jesuit fathers of the College Louis-le-Grand, who remarking the bent of his genius, and being often witness of his witty penetration, predicted that he would become the Corypheus of Deism. He was encouraged in these early predispositions by the privately-avowed unbelief of a friend of his father’s, the Abbé Chateauneuf, who became a kind of patron to the young Arouet, and introduced him to those circles in Paris where the hypocrisy of the Court and religious orthodoxy alike were held in great contempt. Launching out into literature, he became speedily noted for his scathing wit. Unjustly accused of the authorship of a satire against Louis XIV., he found himself for some months a prisoner in the Bastile, but devoted his confinement to writing his first play, “Cidipus,” which was brought out in 1718. His father tried to draw him from literature and Paris by getting him an appointment with the French Ambassador to the Hague, but he soon returned to his former life, and in 1726 was imprisoned a second time for having offended the powerful Chevalier de Rohan. On his release he was ordered to leave France. He came to England, where there was more freedom of tongue and pen, acquired the language with remarkable facility, and entered into friendly relations with Bolingbroke, Tindal, and Collins, and learned to admire Newton, Locke, and Pope. In 1735 he published his “ Letters on the English,” which were publicly burned in Paris. In 1755 the storm which he had raised in France had so far subsided as to enable him to return, but not to Paris. He settled at Cirey, with Madame du Chatelet, varying the monotony of his residence in a solitary chateau by visits to Frederick the Great of Prussia, being once charged with an affair of diplomacy. In 1750 his connection with Madame du Chatelet came to an end by reason of her death, and he accepted the invitation to reside at the Court of Frederick. But after three years of amicable relations a misunderstanding with Maupertius, succeeded by a quarrel between Voltaire and the Great Frederick, caused him abruptly to leave. During his residence at Cirey and Berlin he had composed his “ History of Charles XII. of Sweden,” finished “ Si¢cle de Louis XIV.,” and written “La Pucelle,” and many tragedies, and occupied himself with the physical LIBRARY GF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLING'S VOLTAIRE 3 sciences. With Madame du Chatelet he had studied Newton and Leibnitz, wrote a popular exposition of the discoveries of Newton, became a candidate for the prize of the Academy, and published a memoir in which he ranged himself on the side of Descartes and Newton against Leibnitz and Bernouilli. | But if ever a man was called, not to science, metaphysics, theology, or poetry even, but to literature alone, that man was Voltaire. Literature is really an art of form, as distinguished from those efforts of the intellect which strive to increase knowledge. “ Voltaire is the very first man in the world,” says a contemporary of his day, “ at writing down what other people have thought”; and after Euler had borne away the prize at the Academy, and death had removed the scientific Madame du Chatelet, Voltaire suc- cumbed to the dictates of his own reason, and the advice of friends, and devoted himself to literature alone. After leaving Prussia he spent some months in Alsace, for the publica- tion of his “ Essay on Manners” had added another barrier to his return to Paris. At last he settled at Ferney, a small village near Geneva, and for the next twenty years gazed upon the busy world from this retired spot. Madame Denis, his niece, presided over his house, and having a yearly income of about £10,000 he exercised the duties of hospitality in a princely manner, and was never without guests, being visited by the great, the learned, and the curious of all countries. But he was not simply the charming and irresistible host, all these years, he was the indefatigable worker, seeming to sustain a feeble body by the energy of his soul. At Ferney were written some of his most important works, “On the Natural Law,” “ History of Russia,” “ Philosophical Dictionary,” many tragedies and romances, and much matter contributed for the Encyclopeedia of Diderot. He interested himself in many cases of oppression and injustice: he protected the innocent and unfortunate, using his wealth and influence in their behalf. Every one knows the story of his efforts in behalf of Admiral Byng, of the Protestant Calas, the Count Lally, etc. The two words which sum up his teachings and writings are, toleration and humanity. For sixty years he struggled to convert the world to an acceptance of his doctrine, and he lived long enough to see in Russia, Denmark, and Poland, in Prussia, and a good part of Germany, a firm footing given to liberty of conscience and freedom of thought. 4 VOLTALIRE In his eighty-fourth year he yielded to the importunities of friends and journeyed to Paris, where he was received in triumph, féted, and crowned in the theatre. But the excitement proved too strong for the feeble old man, and shortly after his arrival he died. His body remained in the Abbey of Sellieres until the Revolution, when it was deposited in the Pantheon. , “Voltaire’s ascendancy,” says Morley, “sprung from no appeal to those parts of human nature in which ascetic practice has its foundation. Full exercise and play for every part was the key of all his teaching. He had not Greek serenity and composure of spirit, but he had Greek exultation in every known form of intellectual activity, and this audacious curiosity he made general. Voltairism was primarily and directly altogether an intellectual movement for this reason, that it was primarily and directly a reaction against the subordination of the intellectual to the moral side of men, carried to an excess that was at length fraught with fatal mischief.” While regretting the lengths to which Voltaire allowed his hatred of the hypocrisies of the day and generation to carry him, we must claim for him the highest honours, in regard to his sincere and vehement abhorrence of the military spirit, for his repeated protests against bloodshed. Bossuet had already brought his rhetoric to bear; Voltaire, with Montesquieu, in a grandly comprehensive and philosophic manner, boldly attacked the subject. It is said his “ Essay on Manners” is one of the foundations of modern history. He was one of the few historians who combine in one the three kinds of persons who write history: the analyst, the states- man, and the philosopher. He strove always to separate history from geography, statistics, and anecdote, and give it an independent character. He rested his theory on two principles : first, that laws, customs, and arts are the real things to be treated of; and, secondly, that trifling details embarrass the mind for nothing. “I would rather have details,” he said, “about Racine, Molicre, Bossuet, and Descartes, than I would about the battle of Steinkirk. A picture by Poussin, a fine tragedy, a truth established, are all of them a thousand times more precious than the annals of a Court, or the narratives of a campaign.” Voltaire’s greatest quality, as well as his great fault, is clearly set forth in the latest work of M. Taine, “The Ancient Régime,” and this judgment may be accepted as the final decision in a difficult case. VOLTALIRE, On “ An entire philosophy, ten volumes of theology, an abstract science, a special library, an important branch of erudition, of human experience and invention, is thus reduced in his hands to a phrase or to a stanza. From the enormous mass of riven or compact scoriz he extracts whatever is essential, a grain of gold or of copper as a specimen of the rest, presenting this to us in its most convenient and most manageable form, in a simile, in a metaphor, in an epigram that becomes a proverb. In this no ancient or modern writer approaches him ; in simplification and in popularisation he has not his equal in the world. Without departing from the usual conventional tone, and as if in sport, he puts into little portable phrases the greatest discoveries and hypotheses of the human mind, the theories of Descartes, Malebranche, Leibnitz, Locke, and Newton, the diverse religions of antiquity and of modern times, every known system of physics, physiology, geology, morality, natural law, and political economy, in short all the generalised conceptions, in every order of knowledge to which humanity had attained in the eighteenth century. His tendency in this direction is so strong as to carry him too far ; he belittles great things by rendering them accessible. Religion, legend, ancient popular poesy, the spontaneous creations of instinct, the vague visions of primitive times, are not thus to be converted into small current coin; they are not subjects of amusing and lively conversation. A piquant witticism is not an expression of all this, but simply a travesty.” Carlyle has declared that Voltaire is the Eighteenth Century. It may also be said that he is France. Without him, indeed, France would be what England would be without Shakspeare and Cromwell. Vi Oo lee See ale CHRONOLOGY OF HIS ULEE 1694 BIRTH OF VOLTAIRE AT CHATENAY. 1717 IMPRISONED IN THE BASTILLE . : : ; See AGH 2s 1718 LIBERATED; “ GEDIPE ” ; Oey) 1722 VISITED ROUSSEAU AT BRUSSELS . (oun Timoe 1724 “ HENRIADE ” On ei, 1726 AGAIN IMPRISONED AND LIBERATED a ees) 1726-9 RESIDED IN ENGLAND . ea S005 1730 “HISTORY OF CHARLES XII.” . ; , Panes 6 1731 “LETTRES PHILOSOPHIQUES” . ; Bo ni 1734 RESIDED AT CIREY WITH MADAME DE CHATELET ae a eA 1736 CORRESPONDENCE WITH FREDERICK OF PRUSSIA. ,, 42 1740 VISITED FREDERICK AT CLEVES toe aed G 1746 ADMITTED TO THE ACADEMY . : , nS 1750 RESIDED WITH FREDERICK AT POTSDAM » 56 1755 “LA PUCELLE” . : => 61 1756 “ESSAI SUR LES MURS” . . : eo 0662 1760 SETTLED AT FERNEY . : » 66 1764 “ DICTIONNAIRE PHILOSOPHIQUE eat See eonre 7 () 1778 VISITED PARIS; DIED THERE . ; , eee he EXTRACT FROM VOLTAIRE Bs gee en ee ©) B®) WLS Sexe LEV At periods have given birth to heroes and politicians, all nations have been subject to revolutions, and all histories are almost alike with regard to a writer who intends to frame a narration of events; but a person who thinks, and, what is more rare, a person possessed of taste, reckons but four ages in the history of the world. The first of these ages which shines with true glory is that of Philip and Alexander, or that of Pericles, Demosthenes, Aristotle, Plato, Apelles, Phidias, Praxiteles, and this honour was confined within the limits of Greece, the rest of the globe being overspread with ignorance and barbarism. The second age is that of Julius Cesar and Augustus, which is likewise denoted by the names of Lucretius, Cicero, Livy, Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Varro, Vitruvius. The third is that which followed the taking of Constantinople by Mahomet II. The Medicean family invited to Florence the polite arts which the Turks were driving out of Greece, their ancient seat. Italy then shone with superior glory. The sciences rose then to new life. The Italians honoured them with the name of Virtue, as the Greeks had distinguished them by that of Wisdom. Then appeared a tendency in all things toward perfection. M. Angelo, Raphael, Titian, Tasso and Ariosto flourished; engraving was invented; true architecture re-appeared in greater beauty and splendour than when Rome was in its triumphant state. 8 EXTRACT FROM VOLTAIRE Lastly, the fourth age is called the age of Louis XIV., and of the four this is, perhaps, the one which comes nearest to perfection. Enriched with the discoveries of the other three, it made in its way more progress than all these together. The arts, indeed, were not carried to a greater height than under the Medicean family, under Augustus, or under Alexander, but the rational faculties of man were much more cultivated and improved. True philosophy was not known till this era, and the revolution effected in our arts, our genius, manners and government, diffused so bright a glory over France as will distinguish it to the latest posterity. This happy influence has spread into England, carried taste into Germany, and the sciences even to Russia, and has given new life to Italy, which was in a drooping condition. Europe owes its Politeness to the age of Louis XIV. DIDEROT 1713-1784 (Esha Gey Gill © PAD ale Dents DipErot was the eldest son of a cutler of Langres. At the age of nine he entered the school of the Jesuits, and later was sent to Paris to the Collége d'Harcourt. After finishing the college course, and refusing to study either law or medicine, he found himself thrown on his own resources, and until his thirtieth year led the sort of vagabond existence not uncommon to literary men of his century. After 1743 he gained some notoriety as an author by publishing his “Essay on Merit and Virtue,” “ Philosophical Thoughts,” “Interpretation of Nature,” and “ Letters on the Blind.” For the religious views contained in the latter he was imprisoned at Vincennes. In 1749 he undertook the “ Encyclopeedia,” the grand work of his life and of the century, and perhaps of modern times, Associated with him, at first as co-editor, was d'Alembert, who abandoned the enterprise when it was attacked so vehemently by the Catholics, and when all who were not for it were against it. Diderot bore the brunt of the battle alone, and the immense amount of work he accomplished seems almost incredible. For years he never knew a day of repose, nor of security. Yet no man of that century was better fitted to carry such a burden. Besides moral energy, Diderot DIDERGL s) united two other qualities not less essential to the founder of such a vast work,—a sincere love of truth, and consequently great zeal in seeking it, and an aptitude which may be called an encyclopaedic faculty. His learning was prodigious, and, further, he could learn anything he chose. Being charged with the department of the arts and sciences, he began to study from life all the machines and processes he had to describe, often learning the trades themselves, in all their details. In 1758 appeared the seventh volume of the “Eneyclopeedia,” and two plays by Diderot, “The Father of the Family,” and “The Natural Son.” In 1765, after reaching its seventeenth volume, the “ Encyclopeedia ” was finished, and Diderot found himself poor, approaching old age, with a daughter to provide for. He resolved to sell his library. The Empress Catherine of Russia became the purchaser, but made him its librarian, paying his salary “ fifty years in advance.” In 1773 Diderot went to St. Petersburg to thank his benefactress, whom he greatly pleased. She consulted him on all her plans, overwhelmed him with benefits, and he returned to France escorted by a gentleman of her court. Although he did not meet the fate of Descartes at the court of Christina, he returned to Paris with altered health, but put himself instantly to work and soon published “ Voyage in Holland,” “Jacques le Fataliste,” “La Religieuse,” and his more important work, “ Essay on the Reigns of Claudius and Nero” (a defence of Seneca). In 1784 he fell ill; recovermg somewhat, he was removed to the elegant apartments prepared for him by Catherine's continued bounty ; but after enjoying them twelve days the end came, and in his seventy-first year he passed away. Tue EncyctopepiA. Diderot was first asked to edit a translation of Chambers’s “ Encyclopeedia” but the philosopher was not pleased with this meagre work, and conceived the idea of another more complete. He first thought of arranging a table or inventory of human knowledge, where all the results of progress and civilisation would be found classified in an immense collection. But in such a prodigious undertaking he clearly saw that there was need of a second person, and laid the plan before d'Alembert, who was an admirable man for such an enterprise. The idea expanded, and in 1750 appeared the prospectus, which called the work a picture of human knowledge, and is a chapter to the “glory of the arts and sciences and ease SST SSS SSS a AS es NUNN AY SSS . SN LISRAXY GF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLING'S DIDEROT Oo manual labour.” With almost prophetic instinct he dwelt on the subject, and ‘here,’ says M. Martin, “ Diderot, so often exaggerated, so often emphatic, is simple, because he is truly great. He felt the importance of a work which was to be the rehabilitation of labour, which until that time had been called servile ; he made himself the historian of the long line of past generations who had no history, but to whom civilisation owes its well-being, its intelli- gence, and its indispensable instruments. He announces that he will raise a monument to them, by the exposition of the science of the arts and trades, the admirable legacy of anonymous genius to the lower classes.” He says, “The matter of our ‘ Encyclopeedia’ may be ranged under three heads. We shall begin with the consideration of the Sciences, proceed to the Liberal Arts, and conclude with the Mechanical Arts. Our conduct in the Mechanical Arts requires great pains and attention. Too much has been written upon the Sciences, scarcely anything upon the Liberal and Mechanical Arts. Chambers has added little to what he translated from French writers, and hence we have been obliged to have recourse to the workmen themselves. We have visited and questioned them, cleared up and methodised their information, and learned the proper terms used in their arts. We were often obliged to procure the machines, construct them, and serve, as it were, an indifferent apprenticeship with a view of instructing others how to do better. By this method we have become convinced of the general ignorance that prevails with regard to most of the objects of common life, and the difficulty of enlightening it. The method we have followed is this. We treat, 1. Of the materials, the manner of preparing them, and the places where they are found. 2. Of the principal things made of them, and the process. 3. The name and description of utensils, tools, and machines employed. 4. We explain and represent the hand at work. 5. We collect and define all the peculiar terms of each art. As simply reading a treatise on the Mechanical Arts makes the clear apprehension of them difficult, we have found an absolute necessity of illustrating our work with plates. The bare view of an object, or its figure, may give more information than pages of words.” - ONO FOE ESTIMATE OF THE MAN AND THE WorRK. “'The ‘ Encyclopeedia,’” says Morley, “ was virtually a protest against the old organisation no less than against the old doctrine. Broadly stated, the great central moral of it was this, that human nature is good, that the world is capable of being made a desirable abiding-place, and that the evil of the world is the fruit of bad education and bad institutions. It was the great counter-principle to asceticism in life and morals, to formalism in art, to absolutism in the social ordering, to obscurantism in thought.” It was this band of writers, organised by a harassed man of letters, and not the nobles swarming around Louis XV., nor the churchmen singing masses, who first grasped the great: principle of modern society, the honour that is owed to productive industry. They were vehement for the glories of peace and passionate against the brazen glories of war. The union of all these secular acquisitions in a single colossal work invested them with something imposing. Secular knowledge was made to present a massive and sumptuous froat. It was pictured before the curious eyes of that generation as a great city of glittering palaces and stately mansions; or else as an immense landscape, with mountains, plains, rocks, waters, forests, animals, and a thousand objects, glorious and beautiful in the sunlight. Men grew to be conscious of the vastness of the universe. Diderot struck a key-note of difference between the old Catholic spirit and the new social spirit, between quietist superstition and energetic science, in the casual sentence in his article on almshouses and hospitals :— “It would be far more important to work at the prevention of misery, than to multiply places of refuge for the miserable.” The eighteenth century called Diderot the philosopher, the nineteenth century calls him the critic. The judgment of Ste.-Beuve is as follows :— “ Before Diderot, criticism in France had been exact, curious, and fine with Bayle; elegant and exquisite with Fénelon; honest and useful with Rollin; but none of it had been lively, fruitful, or penetrating. It was Diderot who first gave the soul to criticism. He had in the highest degree that faculty of demi-metamorphosis, which is the triumph of the critic, and which consists in putting himself in the place of the author and examining the subject from his point of view. He excelled in being able at will to DIREROL 5 seize the inspiration of the author, and, in warming not only his imagina- tion but his heart also, he often did the work better than they themselves. Then it was that he showed himself the great journalist of modern times, intelligent, eloquent, and generous; the friend of everybody and everything, giving to all the world, to readers, authors, and artists, not a lesson simply, but a feast. At the same time that we regret the exaggeration of which he accuses himself, the lack of discretion and sobriety, a certain license of manner and defects of taste, we render homage to the good nature, the sympathy, and cordial intelligence, to the richness and breadth of his views, and to the admirable freshness which he always kept in spite of his incessant toil. He is the first great writer of the period who belongs decidedly to modern demo- cratic society. He points out the way, and sets the example. Putting the Academies to one side, he addresses himself to the public at large. Always to give, never to receive; ‘to work out rather than rust out’: this was his whole maxim of life; this was the guiding-star that directed his energy and devotion to the end. Amidst all the varied pursuits of this great man something durable has been saved; and he teaches us how to attain a future and posterity, though it be by the débris saved from the wreck of everyday work.” 1713 1722 1732 1742 1743 1746 1749 Dat Det h Oak CHRONOLOGY OF HIS BORN AT LANGRES. SENT TO JESUITS’ COLLEGE REFUSED TO CHOOSE A PROFESSION. INTRODUCED TO ROUSSEAU MARRIED : : ‘“‘PENSEES PHILOSOPHIQUES ” “LETTRE SUR LES AVEUGLES,” ETC.; IMPRISONED AT VINCENNES . 1751-61 CHIEF EDITOR OF “ENCYCLOPAEDIA” . 1773 1784 VISITED COURT OF RUSSIA DIED AT PARIS LIFE essed 8 DIDEROT HISTORY OF ENCYCLOPADIAS TABLE OF SUBJECTS. Puiny, 2ND CENTURY. Cosmography, Astronomy, Meteorology, Geography, Zoology, Botany, Medicine, Magic, Metals, Fine Arts, Mineralogy. Marrianus CAPELLA, 5TH CENTURY. Grammar, Rhetoric, Dialectics, Geometry, Arithmetic, Astronomy, Music. IstDORE OF SEVILLE, 7TH CENTURY. Grammar, Rhetoric, Dialectics, Arithmetic, Geometry, Music, Astronomy, Medicine, Chronology, God and Angels, The Church, Languages, Man, Animals; The Universe, Buildings, Metals, Farming, War, Ships, Domestic Life. VINCENT DE BEAvvalis, 13TH CENTURY. God and Angels, Work of the Six Days, viz., Light, Colours, Demons, Firmament, Waters and Earth, Plants, Birds, Fishes, Monsters, Animals, Man. Miracles, Sin, Nature of Things and Human Life, The Fall, Studies, Doctors, Dictionary, Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, Poetry, Monastic Science, Economy, Law, Mechanical Arts, Medicine, Physics, Mathematics, Meta- physics, Theology, Chronology. DIDEROT ALSTED, 16TH CENTURY. Hexologia, Technologia, Archeologia, Didactica, Lexica, Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, Oratory, Poetry, Metaphysics, Pneumatics, Physics, Arith- metic, Geometry, Cosmography, Uranometica, Geography, Optics, Music, Ethics, Economics, Politics, Scholastics, Theology, Jurisprudence, Medicine, The Arts, Agriculture, Printing, Architecture, Magic, Alchemy, Mnemonics, Dipnosophistics, Tabaccologia, We. CHAMBERS, 18TH CENTURY. Natural History, Natural Philosophy, Metaphysics, Pure Mathematics, Ethics and Theology, Chemistry, Mixed Mathematics, Medicine, Agri- culture, Ferrying and Hunting, Grammar, Heraldry, Rhetoric, Poetry. Diverot, 18TH CENTURY. IT) History -— ie bo Pe Ecclesiastical: Traditions and History of the Church. Civil: Memoirs, Antiquities, Chronicles. Literary. Natural: Uniformities and Wonders of Nature. The useful Arts: Work in Gold, Silver, Work in Precious Stones, in Iron, in Glass, in Leather, in Stone, in Silk, in Wood. TiS PeILOSOPH y= oR ww bo Metaphysics: Science of Being in General, Theology: Natural and Revealed Religion. . Science of Man: Grammar, Logic, Moral Philosophy. . Mathematics: Arithmetic, Geometry, Medicine, Astronomy, Optics, &e. . Special Physics: Anatomy, Physiology, Meteorology, Geology, Botany, Mineralogy, Chemistry. IIL Portry :— Narrative: Epic, Romance, &c. Dramatic: Tragedy, Comedy, Opera, Pastoral. Art: Sculpture, Painting, Architecture, Music. LESSING 1729-1781 GERMAN CRITIC AND DRAMATIST GoTTHOLD EpHraim Lesstna, who has frequently been styled the Luther of German literature, of the German drama, and of German art, was born at Kamenz, a small town in Upper Lusatia, a province of what was then the Electorate of Saxony. In early infancy his education was directed by his father, who was a learned pastor of the Lutheran Church, and by one of his cousins, who acted as a private tutor. At the tender age of eight he was admitted into the public grammar-school of his native town, and he was afterwards removed to the school of St. Afra at Meissen, where he studied the Latin, Greek, English, French, and Italian languages, philosophy and mathematics, with such eager assiduity that he often spent over his books the hours set apart for recreation and repose. In 1746 he entered the University of Leipzig. His early friendship with Schlegel, Mylius, Zacharie, and Weisse, the acquaintance he made with some of the actors at the Leipzig theatre, and, above all an irresistible inclination for the dramatic art, led him to renounce the theological career for which his parents had destined him. At the age of twenty-two he brought out a piece entitled “The Young Scholar.” It was followed by the “Jews,” the “ Freethinker,” and other plays of the same kind, which were loudly applauded. Later in life he himself criticised with just severity these crude productions of his youth ; 2 LESSING indeed, he went so far as to disavow the authorship of certain works which, through the indiscreet zeal of friends, had been given to the world without his knowledge. In 1750 he undertook, conjointly with Mylius, a quarterly periodical devoted to the drama. It appeared at Berlin and was carried on for one year. At this period he studied the English and Spanish poets; and pub- lished a volume of original poems, under the title of “ Trifles.” Going to Wittenberg he took his degree of Doctor in Philosophy, and there resumed a life of study, without attending classes, and passed his days in his own modest apartment, or in the University Library, opened to him by a friend who held the post of under-librarian. On his return to Berlin he gained a precarious livelihood by contri- buting literary articles to the Voss Gazette. A monthly supplement to that journal quaintly entitled “The newest out of the Kingdom of Wit,” was edited and almost entirely written by Lessing. Here he had free scope, and first exhibited the real powers of a genius which won for him afterwards the proud title bestowed by Macaulay, of being “beyond all dispute the first critic in Europe.” During a brief retreat at Potsdam he composed “ Miss Sara Sampson,” a tragedy, acted subsequently with success at Leipzig. This play contributed largely to free German literature from the prevalent imitation of French writers, and to give it a new and original character. In fact it marks a period, not only in Lessing's writings, but in the development of the national literature. The title, the names of the personages, as well as the place of action, sufficiently announce its source of inspiration. It is a domestic drama after the English pattern, the immediate materials being clearly derived from “ Clarissa Harlowe” and Lillo’s “ London Merchant.” At Berlin he formed a close intimacy with the famous Moses Men- delssohn and the celebrated publisher Nicolai. During his second residence in the Prussian capital his reputation gradually and imperceptibly increased ; his lively discussion with Pastor Lange, who had published a translation of Horace, drew upon him the attention of learned Germany; truth and talent were declared to be on his side; and the accomplished Michaelis of Gottingen publicly complimented the young controversialist. Lessing was about to visit Italy, and had already made preparations for his departure, when the events of the Seven Years’ War compelled him to relinquish the design. He now went back to Leipzig, where he conducted the “ Library of Belles Lettres,” a literary journal. — SS Vw S \N SK SQ @“ SS SN SSsss3x_s5, LIBRARY, OF THE UIVERSITY OF LLNS LESSING 3 In the course of a third residence at Berlin he composed “ Philotas,” a drama which embodied the heroic sentiments of the period; and published his “Fables” in prose, and “ Letters concerning Contemporary Literature.” The talent he displayed in criticism was so marked that he was elected a member of the Academy of Berlin. These multifarious labours enfeebled his health, and the constant poverty in which he lived induced him to accept the post. of secretary to General Tauentzien, at Breslau. Five years later he withdrew from the uncongenial duties of this office, and returned to Berlin, having firmly resolved never to accept any other appointment which was not immediately connected with his favourite occupations. He now published the “ Laocoon,” by many regarded as his greatest work, which has exerted a permanent influence upon both literary and artistic criticism; and his most faultless drama, “ Minna von Barnhelm.” The latter is a genuine character comedy, a healthy delineation of real life ; not a one-sided impersonation of human vices or weaknesses. In 1768, Lessing, attached as Director to the Grand Theatre of Hamburg, gave expression, in his Dramaturgie, to his opinions on dramatic art, and on the masterpieces of the great French writers for the stage. His primary object was to destroy the predilection of the Germans for the false classicism of the French, and to justify Shakspeare and the romantic school. Lessing had just published his “ Antiquarian Letters,” and a charming little essay, “‘ How the Ancients represented Death,” when he was invited to Wolfenbiittel, under the powerful protection of Duke Ferdinand of Bruns- wick, who appointed him his librarian with a salary of 600 thalers, “rather that the library might serve him, than he the library.” He, however, dis- dained to regard the office as a sinecure, and in the course of his researches among the manuscripts he had the good fortune to discover the curious treatise of Berengarius on the doctrine of the Eucharist. While at Wolfen- bittel he displayed astonishing literary activity. As a special favour his writings were exempted from the censorship, but this privilege was withdrawn in consequence of an acrimonious controversy in which he engaged with some Lutheran divines. In the midst of these theological wranglings, which rapidly exhausted what remained of his health and strength, Lessing found time to write two of his most admired works, the tragedy of “ Emilia Galotti,” and “Nathan the Wise,” a dramatic poem, intended to inculcate the duty of toleration in matters of religion. 4 LESSING The “Fragments of an Anonymous Writer,” a work of ill repute, directed against the dogmas of Revelation, brought upon him formidable enmities which embittered the closing years of his life. These essays are negative and regard all positive creeds as human devices. His wife died in giving birth to his first child, who died with her. This terrible blow completely prostrated him; his spirits sank, and he became weary of existence. His theological conflicts alone afforded him a certain amount of relief; and it was in his desperate struggle with what he considered intolerance that he developed his greatest energy, and the richest resources of his intellect. Worn out in mind and body, he ended his great career at the age of fifty-two, dying so poor that his patron, the Duke of Brunswick, had to defray the expenses of his funeral. Lessing has had many biographers. One of the most recent and the most accomplished, Miss Helen Zimmern, remarks that he was a man in whom two ages, two opposed tendencies of thought, were combined in unique harmony. He exhibited in his person all the good elements of the eighteenth century, while he became the pioneer of the new. It was his peculiar characteristic to be at the same time the representative of his own and of a succeeding generation. For while the eighteenth century was negative and destructive, the nineteenth is affirmative and constructive: Lessing is both. He anticipated the nineteenth century in its tendency to return to the past, and its endeavours to disengage primitive truth from the disfiguring accretions of later ages. In this respect he presents a remarkable contrast to Voltaire: a contrast wholly to his advantage. In art, in religion, he helped towards the liberation of mankind from the shackles of mere tradi- tion and authority as such. But while he destroyed, he built; he did not use the thin weapons of persiflage to undermine both good and bad together, and leave his fellows shelterless. Hence it is that Lessing may lay claim to be the intellectual pioneer of our present culture. There are few depart- ments of thought into which he did not penetrate, and none into which he penetrated without leaving the impress of his genius behind him. So varied and catholic were his interests, that to many he is only known as a theologian, to others as an esthetician, to others again as a dramatist, poet, critic, or philologist. In one point only he did not free himself from a characteristic defect of his age; and this was his indifference to the beauty and significance of Nature. In this respect alone he cannot be ranked as a precursor of Goethe, whom he anticipated in his attachment to the Greeks, to Shakspeare, and Spinoza. 1729 1746 1753 1754 1755 1757 1759 1760 1765 1766 1767 1770 1772 1779 1780 1781 LESSING CHRONOLOGY OF HIS LIFE BORN AT KAMENTZ. STUDIED AT LEIPSIC TOOK M.A. DEGREE AT WITTENBERG; WENT TO BERLIN ees: “POPE ALS METAPHYSIKER” “MISS SARAH SAMPSON” “ BIBLIOTHEK DER SCHOENEN WISSENSCHAFTEN ” . “ LITTERATUR-BRIEF ” SECRETARY TO PRUSSIAN GENERAL AT BRESLAU. RETURNED TO BERLIN 1A OCOON * ©. “MINNA VON BARNHELM ” : KEEPER OF WOLFENBUETTEL LIBRARY VISITED ITALY “NATHAN ” : : : : : : “DIK ERZIEHUNG DES. MENSCHENGESCHLECHTS” DIED AT BRUNSWICK . AGE GIBBON 1737-1794 GREATEST MODERN HISTORIAN Epwarp Grppon, the greatest of English historians, was born at Putney, near London, in 1737. He was an extremely sickly child, and owed his life to the care of a maiden aunt. Ill health interrupted his education till his fifteenth year, when a change for the better took place, and permitted his father to send him to Oxford, where he studied little however. Already he had read many historical works. “Simon Ockley,” he says, “first opened my eyes, and I was led from one book to another till I had ranged round the circle of Oriental history. Before I was sixteen I had exhausted all that could be learned in English of the Arabs and Persians, the Tartars and Turks, and the same ardour urged me to guess at the French of d’Herbelot, and to construe the barbarous Latin of Pocock’s ‘ Abulfaragius.’” As the next step after reading history, he attempted to write it, and began, at fifteen, the chronology of the age of Sesostris, which, it is needless to say, was never finished. | The most noteworthy event in his Oxford career was his conversion, before the end of the first year, to the Catholic religion, through reading Middleton’s “ Free Inquiry” and Bossuet’s “ Variations of Protestantism.” 2 GIBBON Obliged to leave college on this account, it was feared he would become a priest, and his father sent him to Lausanne, in Switzerland, as the pupil of a Protestant clergyman. He studied diligently, became proficient in French and Latin, and by a regular course of “ discussions, arguments, and judicious reading,” he recovered from the Catholic fever, only to relapse, like Bayle, from the profound study of two religions into the condition of a sceptic. During this time he had fallen in love with the daughter of a Calvinist minister, the future Madame Necker. His father would not hear of this “ strange alliance,” and “after a painful struggle,” says Gibbon, “I sighed as a lover, but obeyed as a son.” He returned home in 1758, and shortly after published an “ Essay on the Study of Literature,” which was favourably received in Paris, and also began the formation of his famous library of 7,000 volumes, his “ Seraglio,” so useful to him in after years. For more than two years he served as captain in the Hampshire militia, at the time of the French Invasion panic. This active life improved his health, he says, made him an English- man and a soldier, and corrected the effect of long foreign residence and solitary studies. He found time when off duty to read Horace and review his studies. He had formed many projects for future historical works. Several subjects had been thought of, and some even commenced. He had pitched upon the expedition of Charles VIII. of France; then the crusade of Richard I. had appeared attractive. To these in turn succeeded the history of Edward the Black Prince, Sir Philip Sidney, and Sir Walter Raleigh. But they were all relinquished, and at last he comes to two conclusions— “first, that his subject must not be English; and secondly, it must not be narrow.” The danger of a war with France being over, Gibbon set out to visit Paris and Italy, and it was at Rome, in 1764, “seated amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while barefooted friars were singing vespers in the temple of Jupiter,” that he resolved to write the “ History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.” He returned to England full of his idea, but it was not till after the death of his father in 1770 that he could set himself seriously to work. He settled the estate, moved to London, and began to write, the first volume appearing in 1776, the same year which saw a new empire born in the West. ‘ad Y fi AREA 7 : WU WVHA ARREARS LISKARY OFTHE UIUVERSITY OF ILLINS'S. — GIBBON 3 The publication of the volume created a great sensation, and Gibbon found his reputation established amidst universal applause. Its vast plan so well conceived, and executed in polished and elegant style, gave the work a rapid and brilliant success. Even those who might with justice be considered his rivals—Robertson, Ferguson, and Hume—sent him warm congratulations. Gibbon had in 1774 become a member of Parliament under Lord North’s administration, but as, according to his own account, he had entered upon a public career “‘ without patriotism and without ambition,” he proved but an indifferent politician; and when in 1782 Lord North resigned, he retired to Lausanne to lead a more retired life. Here, in a charming house on the borders of Lake Geneva, he terminated his great history in 1787, and immediately started for England to arrange for its publication. The spring of 1788 saw him again settled at Lausanne, where he resided till 1793, when he resolved on another visit to England, this time to comfort his old friend Holroyd, who had lost his wife. Though Gibbon was now feeble in health, and corpulent to an extraordinary degree, the fatigue and dangers even of the journey were nothing to the affection he felt for his bereaved friends, and he hastened to mingle his tears with theirs. He arrived after a rapid journey in his usual health, but at the end of six months Edward Gibbon was no more. He died in the fifty-seventh year of his age, of dropsy, from which he had suffered for thirty-two years. Cotter Morrison, in his recent life of Gibbon, thus speaks of his work : “The sudden and rapid expansion of historic studies in the middle of the eighteenth century constitutes one of the great epochs of literature. Up to the year 1750 no great historical work had appeared in any modern language. The instances that seem to make against this remark will be found to confirm it. They consist of memoirs, contemporary documents, in short, materials for history, but not history itself. Excellent as were the Scotch historians—Hume, in style nearly perfect ; Robertson, admirable for gravity and shrewd sense—they left much to be desired. It is not doing them injustice to say that these eminent men were a sort of modern Livies, chiefly occupied with the rhetorical part of their work, and not over-inclined to waste their time in ungrateful digging in the deep mines of historic lore. Obviously the place was open for a writer who should unite all the broad spirit of comprehensive survey with the thorough and minute patience of a GIBBON Benedictine, whose subject, mellowed by long brooding, should have sought him rather than he it ; whose whole previous course of study had been an unconscious preparation for one great effort which was to fill his life. When Gibbon sat down to write his book, the man had been found who united these difficult conditions. The decline and fall of Rome is the greatest event in history. It occupied a larger portion of the earth’s surface, it affected the lives and fortunes of a larger number of human beings than any other revolution on record. For it was essentially one, though it had for its theatre the civilized world. Great revolutions and catastrophes happened before it and have happened since, but nothing which can compare with it in volume and mere size. Nor was it less morally. The destruction of Rome was not only the destruction of an empire, it was the destruction of a phase of human thought, of a system of human beliefs, of morals, politics, civilization, as all these had existed in the world for ages. The book is such a marvel of knowledge at once wide and minute, that even now, after numbers of labourers have gone over the same ground, with only special objects in view, small segments of the great circle which Gibbon fills alone, his word is still one of the weightiest that can be quoted. Modern research has unquestionably opened out points of view to which he did not attain, but when it comes to close investigation, we rarely fail to find that he has seen it, dropped some pregnant hint about it, more valuable than the dissertations of other men. As Mr. Freeman says, ‘Whatever else is read, Gibbon must be read too.’” 1737 1749 1752 1753 1754 GIBBON CHRONOLOGY OF HIS BORN AT PUTNEY. AT WESTMINSTER SCHOOL . ENTERED OXFORD ABJURES PROTESTANTISM . RE-CONVERTED AT LAUSANNE . 1760-3 CAPTAIN IN HAMPSHIRE MILITIA . 1764 1774 1776 1783 1788 1794 VISITED FRANCE AND ROME M.P. FOR LISKEARD FIRST VOLUME OF “ DECLINE AND FALL ” WENT TO LAUSANNE TO RESIDE “ DECLINE AND FALL” FINISHED DIED IN LONDON . LIFE 23- 12 15 16 17 26 27 37 39 46 51 57 Vel Ta GIBBON: HIS WORKS CONTENTS OF THE DECLINE AND FALL. . From the Antonines to the Emperors Decius, Gallus, Valerian, &c., and General Irruption of Barbarians, 2nd century—260. . From Reign of Claudius to Victories of Julian in Gaul, 268—359. . From Conversion of Constantine to Final Destruction of Paganism, 386—490, . From Division of Empire between Arcadius and MHonorius to Conquest of Britain by the Saxons, 395—455. . From Zeno and Anastasius, Emperors of the East, to Conquest and Death of Chosroes, 456—628. . From Cyril of Alexandria and First Council of Ephesus to Defeats and Victories of Greek Emperors in the East, 412—963. . From State of the Eastern Empire in the Xth Century to Victory of Genoese over the Venetians and Greeks, 733—1352. From Agressions of Zingis Khan, Moguls and Tartars to Conquest of Constantinople by the Turks, 1206—1453. APPENDIX TO VOLUME V. SOURCES OF THE PORTRAITS HERODOTUS. Line engraving, double-headed marble bust Herodotus and Thucydides. Antique, Rome. Bein del. et sculpsit. Proof. Didot Coll. THUCYDIDES. Antique bust now in the Louvre. Line engraving. Gio. Domenico Campiglia dis. Sylvestro Pomared inc. Tucidide, Bell, Ill. Rhet. num. 89. DEMOSTHENES. From the antique bust in the Louvre. Fine stipple engraving by Vauthier and Mécon. Forms one of a series published by Mécon and Vauthier. Many busts of Demosthenes exist, and nearly all agree. CICERO. One of the series by Mécon and Vauthier. Stipple engraving after the bust formerly in the cabinet of the Duke of Wellington. Portraits of Cicero show great differences, the likeness here being the favourite. TACITUS. Lith. par Julien d’aprés l’antique. The usual portrait with whiskers is spurious. Portraits of Tacitus are rare. PLUTARCH. From an ancient bas-relief discovered at Naples. Painted in grisaille to two- thirds life-size and reduced, il APPENDIX TO VOLUME VI. MONTAIGNE. Fine line engraving by St. Aubin, enlarged one-tenth. The likeness is characteristic, others of Montaigne being more or less idealised. MONTESQUIEU. Line engraving by a French artist, drawn from life, in the style of a medallion, the idea of the artist being to give it a Roman character. VOLTAIRE. Old coloured mezzo-tint engraving from the painting by Garneray. Engraved by Mix. Scarce. DIDEROT. Peint par L. M. Vanloo. Gravé par David. Line engraving. Didot Coll. LESSING. Line engraving by Sichling, from a painting by A. Graaf. One of a series— Portraits of eminent Germans. GIBBON. From a picture after the painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds. This is the only portrait of Gibbon. 4156 dir HUNDRED GREATEST MEN PORTRAITS OF THE ONE HUNDRED GREATEST MEN OF HISTORY REPRODUCED FROM FINE AND RARE ENGRAVINGS VEO Me VL Science MATHEMATICIANS, PHYSICIANS, NATURALISTS WITH AN INTRODUCTION By Prorgessor H. HELMHOLTZ TRO eNeLOUN SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, AND RIVINGTON CROWN BUILDINGS, 188 FLEET STREET 1880 (All rights reserved) | LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, Limiten, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME VI. By Proressorn HELMHOLTZ. Ks ist sehr lehrreich sich in den Gedankenkreis und die Sinnesweise alter Zeiten zuriickzuversetzen; aber man stosst dabei auf unerwartete Schwie- rigkeiten. Vieles, was wir von unserer ersten Kindheit an gewusst und gekonnt haben, ohne dass unserer Erinnerung nach es uns jemand gelehrt hatte, was uns daher als ganz einfach und selbstverstandlich erscheint, das haben, wie wir staunend entdecken, in alten Zeiten auch die leitenden Manner der intelligentesten Nationen nicht gekonnt und nicht gewusst. Gerade bei solcher Gelegenheit tritt am entschiedensten hervor, dass wir der Arbeit der vorausgegangenen Generationen noch viel mehr verdanken, als wir uns gewohnlich klar machen. Solche Gedanken driingen sich uns auf, wenn wir auf die Geschichte der Naturwissenschaften zuriickblicken. Nichts ist einfacher, als die Methode der Forschung dieser Wissenschaften, wie sich dieselbe schliesslich, nachdem viele Irrwege vergebens betreten waren, festgestellt hat. Diese Methode, die unter dem Namen der inductiven beschrieben zu werden pflegt, ist in der That nichts anderes als das Verfahren, welches der sogenannte gesunde Menschenverstand fiir die praktischen Zwecke des tiglichen Lebens ohne alle wissenschaftliche Schulung von selbst einzu- schlagen pflegt, und von dessen Anwendung wir selbst bei den intelligenteren Thieren unverkennbare Spuren finden. Durch Erfahrung suchen wir kennen zu lernen, wie sich die uns umgebenden Dinge unter diesen oder jenen Umstiinden, namentlich auch bei den Eingriffen, die wir durch unsre Handlungen machen, zu verhalten pflegen. Wir setzen dann voraus, dass in jedem neu eintretenden Falle der Verlauf der Dinge der gleiche sein werde, wie in allen friiheren Fallen von hinlinglich ahnlicher Art. iv INTRODUCTIONVIOSVOL CME, Der Unterschied zwischen der wissenschaftlichen Forschung und der allttiglichen Erfahrung liegt nur darin, dass wir in letzterer die Fiille so hinnehmen, wie sie der Zufall uns vorfiihrt, dass wir uns mit den allmalig sich verdunkelnden Erinnerungen des Gesehenen begniigen, wie sie in unserm Gediichtnisse haften bleiben, und dass das einzige Maass, nach wel- chem wir quantitative und qualitative Unterschiede beurtheilen, meist nur durch die Intensitaét und Art der sinnlichen Empfindung gegeben ist. Bei wissenschaftlicher Forschung dagegen suchen wir moglichst grosse Vollstindigkeit in der Beobachtung der einzelnen Falle und ihrer Abin- derungen zu erreichen, indem wir sie entweder aufsuchen, wo sie sich von selbst darbieten, oder sie absichtlich durch den Versuch herbeifiihren. Namentlich suchen wir scharf und bestimmt die Bedingungen abzugrenzen, von denen es abhiingt, ob ein gewisser Erfolg eintritt oder ausbleibt, bezieh- lich in welcher Grosse er eintritt, und ruhen nicht eher, als bis wir in jedem einzelnen neu eintretenden Falle ahnlicher Art vorauszusagen wissen, was geschehen wird. Indem wir das Gefundene in genau definirte Begrifte fassen, in Wort und Schrift fixiren, erweitern wir die Erfahrung jedes Kinzelnen durch die Erfahrung aller Mitlebenden und Vorausgegangenen. Wir sind dabei sicher, dass jede Abweichung von einem fiir wahr gehaltenen Gesetz die allgemeine Aufmerksamkeit um so stiirker erregen wird, je fester der Glauben an seine Richtigkeit war. So bleiben die schon gewonnenen Ergebnisse der Wissenschaft einer dauernden Controlle ihrer Wahrheit oder eventueller Verbesserung unterworfen. Aber alles dies ist im Grunde nichts als eine moglichst sorgfiltige und consequente Ausfiihrung dessen, was ein verstiindiger Mann fir die niichstliegenden praktischen Zwecke auch ohne alle wissenschaftliche Schulung zu thun pflegt. Natiirlich diirfen wir uns nicht dartiber wundern, wenn dem Jiinger der Wissenschaft eine um so schwerere Arbeit des Denkens zugemuthet wird, je umfassender und je schirfer bestimmt die Gesetze werden, welche er verstehen und anwenden soll. Die allgemeinsten Principien der Mechanik in ihrer abstract mathematischen Fassung scheinen freilich von der Anschau- lichkeit eines populiren Erfahrungssatzes weit entfernt zu sein. Sie sind die Zauberformeln geworden, mit deren Hilfe die moderne Menschheit die widerstrebenden Gewalten der Natur in ihren Dienst gebannt hat, und doch sind sie auf demselben Wege gewonnen, der mit kleimen Fertigkeiten und Kunstgriften des hiiuslichen Lebens und des Handwerks begonnen hat. 4NIRODOUCTION TO WOLCME, Vi, Vv Dass die Nationen des classischen Alterthums weniger naturwissen- schaftliche Kenntnisse gehabt haben, als wir, die wir auf ihren Schultern stehen, wird uns nicht in Erstaunen setzen dirfen. Wir wundern uns vielleicht 6fter dariiber, dass sie dieses und jenes gewusst haben, als iiber das Gegentheil. Was uns aber immer wieder in Verwunderung setzt, ist, dass diese Volker, die in der Ausbildung der Sprache, des Rechtes und der staat- lichen Ordnung, in der Geschichtschreibung und philosophischen Abstrac- tion uns in keiner Weise nachstanden, in vielen Richtungen kiinstlerischer Thatigkeit uns sogar entschieden iiberlegen waren, eine auffallende Un- fihigkeit zeigen die richtigen Wege fiir die Losung naturwissenschaftlicher Probleme zu finden, ja auch nur die richtigen Fragen zu stellen. Es macht den Eindruck, als sei ihnen die Methode, welche schliesslich die reichen Friichte gezeitigt hat, zu einfach und zu einfaltig erschienen, um Grosses von ihr zu hoffen, und dass sie geglaubt haben erheblichere Resultate nur durch starkere Anspannung tiefsinnigen Denkens erreichen zu kénnen. Dass ihnen die Fahigkeit, die ich vorher als gesunden Menschenver- stand ohne wissenschaftliche Schulung bezeichnete, auch in der Beobachtung der Aussenwelt nicht gefehlt habe, brauche ich nicht hervorzuheben. Sie ist ausserdem dem kiinstlerischen Talent und der Fahigkeit, charakteristische Typen kiinstlerisch darzustellen, nahe verwandt. Denn ein solcher Typus ist auch die Erscheinungsweise eines gesetzlichen Verhaltens. Wir finden geradezu ein hervorragendes Beispiel einer solchen mehr kiinstlerischen als wissenschaftlichen Begabung in Hippokrates. Er hat die Regelmissigkeiten im Ablauf und in der Verbreitung der Krankheiten aufzufinden und zu beschreiben gewusst und so die erste Ordnung in diesem Gebiete geschaffen, in welchem unverkennbar die Sonderung der verschiedenen zusammen- wirkenden Ursachen am aller schwierigsten ist. Wissenschaftliche Schulung fehlte ihm nicht ganz. Eine ziemliche Anzahl guter medicinischer Kennt- nisse scheint in der Schule der Asklepiaden, aus der er hervorging, iiberliefert worden zu sein, und er kannte, was seine Zeit an wissenschaftlichen Theorien hervorgebracht hatte. Diese waren aber freilich der Art, dass man urtheilen muss, Hippokrates sei troz seiner theoretischen Bildung, nicht durch dieselbe ein grosser Arzt geworden. Er bezieht sich auf seine Theorien eben immer nur da, wo sich ihre Folgerungen den Thatsachen gutwillig anpassen ; wo nicht, tibergeht er sie mit Stillschweigen. Seine Schiiler und Nachfolger aber, denen die Hauptsache, namlich sein ausgezeichnetes Beobachtungstalent vi INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME VI. fehlte, suchten seine Grosse gerade in dem, wo er schwach war, namlich in den Theorien, und zogen aus diesen deductiv Schliisse, die sie nicht etwa an den Thatsachen priifen zu miissen meinten, sondern die sie statt der That- sachen festhielten. Dasselbe Verhaltniss wiederholte sich immer wieder, so oft ein grosser Meister der Beobachtung aufgetreten war, und kann als das charakteristische Zeichen einer Entwicklungsstufe der Wissenschaft ange- sehen werden, wo diese noch nicht zum Bewusstsein der richtigen Principien ihrer Methode gekommen ist. Allerdings haben die Griechen auch zur Auffindung dieser Principien die ersten Schritte gethan. Dass es darauf ankomme in den Beobachtungs- wissenschaften zunachst einen moglichst vollstandigen Uberblick der That- sachen zu gewinnen und die Erfahrungen der Generationen zu sammeln, hat Aristoteles richtig erkannt und sich selbst an das Werk gemacht, um dies fiir die naturhistorischen, zum Theil auch fiir die physikalischen Wissen- schaften zu leisten, Galenus spater fiir die medicinischen, beide mit grosser Einsicht und richtigem Urtheil. Daneben haben Sokrates und Aristoteles auch richtige Anfange der Erkenntnisstheorie entwickelt, ersterer indem er die wissenschaftliche Wichtigkeit der Bildung von scharf definirten Begriffen an Beispielen erlauterte, letztrer indem er die logischen Principien der deduc- tiven Methode, die Entwickelung der Folgerungen aus gegebenen Vorder- satzen, entwickelte. Was beide in dieser Beziehung geleistet haben, machte grossen Hindruck auf ihre Zeitgenossen und erregte tiberschwangliche Hoffnungen. Fiir uns ist es kaum noch moglich uns in einen Zustand der geistigen Bildung zuriickzudenken, wo die Satze der gewohnlichen Logik als neue und iiberraschende Einsichten erscheinen, und doch mag keine geringe Kraft der Abstraction dazu gehort haben, sie das erste Mal klar in Worte zu fassen. Die deductive Methode findet ihre berechtigte Anwendung aber erst dann, wenn richtige und hinreichend allgemeine Vordersitze. gewonnen worden sind, aus denen Folgerungen ftir besondere Falle hergeleitet werden konnen. Dies war dem Alterthum nur in einem Gebiete, dem der Geometrie, gelungen, welche, wie es scheint, zuerst von den Aegyptern ftir praktische Zwecke ausgearbeitet, von Pythagoras den Griechen iiberliefert und von Eukleides in eme schon sehr vollendete wissenschaftliche Form gebracht wurde. Dass auch die Axiome der Geometrie, diese allgemeinen Vorder- siitze, aus denen alle andern Satze dieser Wissenschaft abgeleitet werden INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME VI. vil konnen, aus der Erfahrung und nicht aus der Natur des reinen Denkens abgeleitet sind, habe ich an andrem Orte zu beweisen gesucht. Uebrigens waren auch einige physikalische Gesetze im engeren Sinne schon dem Alterthum bekannt. Pythagoras kannte die einfachen Verhalt- nisse der Linge von Saiten, welche den consonanten musikalischen Inter- vallen entsprechen. Archimedes kannte die Gesetze der Zuriickwerfung des Lichts, und viele Gesetze der Statik, z. B. die fiir das Gleichgewicht des Hebels und fiir das der in Fliissigkeiten eingetauchten schweren Korper. Er begriindete darauf die noch jetzt gebrauchten Methoden, das specifische Gewicht der Korper zu finden. Hero kannte die Wirkungen des Luftdrucks, Claudius Ptolemaeus die Gesetze der Strahlenbrechung in der Atmosphire. Namentlich aber in der Astronomie hatte man schon friih eine ziemlich genaue Kenntniss von der Weise, wie Sonne, Mond, Planeten und Fixsterne sich am Himmel scheinbar bewegen. Auch hier waren Aegypter und Babylonier den Griechen vorangegangen. Der Calender fiir die biirgerliche Zeitrechnung wurde allmalig immer mehr verbessert und genauer mit den Bewegungen von Sonne und Mond in Einklang gesetzt. Die astronomischen Forschungen waren sehr geeignet durch die Anschauung der genauen und unabanderlichen Gesetzmissigkeit in so grossen Verhaltnissen den mensch- lichen Geist zum Aufsuchen einer ewigen Ordnung hinzuleiten; aber die Gesetze, die man zu formuliren wusste, bezogen sich zunachst nur auf die aussere Erscheinungsweise der himmlischen Bewegungen. Wenn auch Vor- stellungen von der wahren Art der Bewegung der Erde um die Sonne gelegentlich aufgetaucht sind: so war weder in der Astronomie der Alten, noch in den musikalischen Beobachtungen des Pythagoras, noch in den medicinischen des Hippokrates die geringste Spur von einem Verstandniss der Mechanik dieser Erscheinungen. Es folgt wihrend des Mittelalters eine lange Zeit geistiger Unselb- stindigkeit, Ueberschitzung der deductiven Methode und der Autoritat der alten Meister, namentlich des Aristoteles und des Hippokrates. Das erste neue Erwachen selbstandiger Forschung musste ein harter Kampf gegen diese Autoritaiten sein, wie ihn Copernicus in der Astronomie, Vesalius in der Anatomie, Harvey in der Physiologie zu ftihren hatten. Der Fortschritt wurde zunachst hauptsachlich durch die Astronomie herbeigefiihrt. Die Gesetzmissigkeit der Planetenbewegungen erschien als eine ausserordentlich viel einfachere und verstiindlichere, seitdem Copernicus vill INTRODUCTION JORVOLOMLET, die Sonne als den feststehenden Mittelpunct des Systems zu betrachten gelehrt und Kepler die regelmissig elliptische Form der Bahn, so wie die einfachen Gesetze, welche die Geschwindigkeit der Fortbewegung jedes Planeten in seiner Bahn bestimmen, aufgefunden hatte. Der entscheidende Schritt aber wurde durch Galilei und J. Newton gethan, indem sie den Begriff der bewegenden Kraft nach seiner wahren Bedeutung entwic- kelten, Ersterer that es zunachst an dem Beispiel der irdischen Schwere. Seine Darstellung ist noch eine bildliche, indem er die Wirkung einer con- tinuirlich wirkenden Bewegungskraft mit der einer Reihe kleiner in kurzen Zwischenzeiten auf einander folgender Anstdsse vergleicht. Newton war im Stande mit Hilfe der scharfer definirten neuen Begriffe der Differential- rechnung die Kraft in rein begrifflicher und ganz scharf bestimmter Form nach Grosse und Richtung durch das Product aus der Masse des von ihr angegriffenen Korpers und seiner Beschleunigung zu definiren. Diese — Definition, angewendet auf die Planetenbewegungen, fiihrte diese verwickelte Reihe von Erscheinungen auf das hochst einfache Gesetz der allgemeinen Anziehung aller schweren Korper gegen einander zuriick, und stellte damit das glanzendste und imponirendste Beispiel fiir die einfache und strenge Gesetzmissigkeit der Natur und das Vorbild ftir die Ziele hin, denen die Wissenschaft nachzustreben habe. Durch das Gravitationsgesetz war der Ort und die Geschwindigkeit jedes Planeten nicht bloss in grober An- niherung, sondern mit den feinsten Messungen iibereinstimmend und fir unabsehbare Zeiten genau quantitativ bestimmt. Was noch fehlte, war die vollstandige Berechnung der sogenannten Storungen, welche die Planeten durch ihre wechselseitige Anziehung auf einander hervorbrachten. Diese Aufgabe wurde hauptsachlich durch Laplace gelost. Was die Theorie anzeigte fand sich in der Beobachtung nachtraglich bestatigt. Moglich wurde die vollstandige Anwendung der genannten mecha- nischen Principien durch die gleichzeitige Entwickelung der Mathematik, namlich durch Descartes, analytische Geometrie, in der alle geometrischen Probleme zu Aufyaben der Rechnung gemacht werden, und durch die von Leibnitz und Newton entwickelte Analysis, d. h. die Rechnung mit continuir- lich verinderlichen Grodssen. Man hatte liingst die letzten verborgenen Ursachen der Naturerscheinungen als Krafte bezeichnet, diese als inhirent den Stoffen, als dauernd bestehend und dauernd wirksam betrachtet. In der schon vor Galilei und von ihm entwickelten Lehre von der Zusammen- INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME. VI. iX setzung verschiedener Krifte, die auf denselben Punct wirken, war die Selbstandigkeit jeder einzelnen und ihre Unabhingigkeit von den gleich- zeitig vorhandenen andern Kriaften anerkannt. Aber bis dahin war die Kraft immer noch ein hypothetisches Abstractum gewesen. Der grosse Fortschritt, der in Galile’s und Newton's Auffassung lag, war, dass sie nun die Bedeutung einer beobachtbaren Thatsache bekam, der Beschleunigung, d. h. der fiir die Secunde berechneten Aenderung der Geschwindigkeit, multiplicirt mit der Masse des bewegten Korpers. Wenn Newton die Kraft von der Entfernung der Korper abhingig machte, so war darin ein un- veranderliches Verhaltniss beobachtbarer Thatsachen ausgesprochen: die Beschleunigungen beider Korper werden von ihrer Lage abhingig gemacht. Es zeigte sich bald, dass die ganze Mechanik, die Lehre vom Gleichgewicht, wie die von der Bewegung aller Arten von Korpern aus diesen Principien entwickelt werden konnte, und Newton's Gravitationsgesetz wurde das Vorbild, nach dem die Erklarungen auch in allen andern Zweigen der Physik durchgefiihrt wurden. Erst die Elektrodynamik hat Probleme eestellt, die sich nicht mehr auf dieses Schema zuriickftihren lassen. Wenn es die Aufgabe der Naturwissenschaften ist zu suchen, was unabanderlich bleibt in dem Wechsel der Erscheinungen, so hatte die Ent- wickelung des Begriffes der Kraft und des durch sie als zwingende Macht anerkannten Gesetzes der Erscheinungen, dieser Forderung nur nach einer Richtung hin Geniige gethan. Es lag auch noch die Aufgabe vor, die unzerstorbaren, mit unveranderlichen Kraften begabten Stoffe zu suchen, die wir jetzt ““chemische Elemente” nennen. Dass diese Aufgabe vorliege, haben auch die Alten richtig gesehen; aber ihre Versuche sie zu ldsen, zeigen nur, wie weit sie von der Einsicht in die richtige Methode entfernt waren. Ihre vier Elemente sind Producte einer Hypothese, die nur die auffallendsten Unterschiede des Aggregatzustandes beriicksichtigte, und bei der an eine thatsiachliche Priifung nie gedacht wurde. Eine solche begann, wenn auch nicht zu wissenschaftlichen Zwecken, bei den Alche- misten des Mittelalters. Die Frage, ob Gold aus andern Stoffen zu machen sei, fiel zusammen mit der Frage, ob es Elementarstoffe gebe, die nicht in einander verwandelt werden konnen. Dass die Elemente nur auf dem Wege des Versuchs zu finden seien, dass ihr Gewicht unveranderlich sein miisse, hat R. Boyle (1627-1691) zuerst deutlich ausgesprochen; aber die Unbe- kanntschaft mit der Natur der Gase, und die damit zusammenhangenden we INTRODUCTIGN WOSVCOL Ucar. Schwierigkeiten der Verbrennungstheorie verzogerten noch ein Jahrhundert lang die richtige Durchfiihrung dieser Principien, bis Lavoisier gestiitzt auf Priestley’s Entdeckung des Sauerstoffs und auf H. Cavendish’s Nachweis, dass Wasserstoff verbrannt Wasser erzeuge, die Rolle des Sauerstoffs bei der Verbrennung richtig erkannte, und sein neues System durch den Nachweis bekraftigte, dass in der That das Gewicht keiner der von ihm als Elemente hingestellten Substanzen durch Schliessung oder Losung einer chemischen Verbindung jemals geandert werde. Damit waren die principiellen Fragen im Wesentlichen entschieden. Die Wissenschaften, welche die lebenden Organismen erforschen, haben sich in den bisher besprochenen Perioden der jedesmaligen Entwickelung der physikalischen und chemischen Theorien angeschlossen. Ihre Aufgabe erschien zunachst zu verwickelt und zu schwierig, als dass von ihnen aus principielle Fragen zu entscheiden waren. Erst in der neusten Zeit ist dies anders geworden. Diese Entwickelung ist aber so neu, dass dariiber kaum Geschichte zu schreiben ist. INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME VI. Ir is instructive to revert to the modes of thought and of perception that were prevalent in ancient times; but unexpected difficulties imme- diately present themselves in any such attempt. Many things that we have known and understood from our earliest childhood, apparently without aid or suggestion from without, and which, therefore, appear to us to be quite simple, and indeed self-evident, we are astonished to discover were unknown and unperceived by the leading men of the most intelligent nations of antiquity. It thus becomes evident that we are indebted, to a much greater extent than is usually admitted, to the labours of past generations. Thoughts like these crowd upon the mind when we look back on the history of Science. Nothing is simpler than that method of investigation which, after many erroneous paths had been successively pursued, is now adopted in every scientific research. This method, usually termed the inductive method, is in fact only the procedure which the healthy human understanding is accustomed to employ in the practical operations of daily life without special instruction, and unmistakeable traces of the application of which may be observed in any of the more intelligent animals. We endeavour by experiment to ascertain how the things by which we are surrounded behave under various circumstances ; and, in particular, how far and in what way we are able to influence them; and we anticipate that, under new conditions, the course of events will be similar to that observed in all previous cases of a sufficiently similar nature. The difference between scientific investigation and ordinary inquiry lies in the circumstance that in the latter case we merely observe the facts presented to us, and are satisfied with the slowly fading impressions of the past as they may Imger in our memory, whilst the only means by which we form an estimate of xl INTRODUCTION Os 0 DOVE aia. quantitative and qualitative differences is derived from the mode and intensity of the sensorial impressions that have been made upon our mind. In scientific research, on the other hand, we endeavour, so far as may be practicable, to obtain a complete knowledge of particular instances, and to ascertain clearly the variations to which they are liable, whilst at the same time we observe whether these variations are spontaneous or can be inten- tionally or experimentally produced. We then seek to define with clearness and precision the conditions upon which each variation depends ; whether a certain effect follows a supposed cause or fails to appear, and if it appear, to what degree or amount; in fine, we continue our inquiries until we are able to anticipate the result in every future case of a similar nature. We endeavour thus to obtain accurate conceptions, to fix them by oral and written description, and at the same time to expand and develop our knowledge of each particular by comparing it with the statements of our contemporaries and predecessors. We are thus certain that every deviation from a law supposed to be correct will arouse attention in proportion to the belief in the accuracy of that law. The results already obtained by scientific inquiry are thus subjected to constant control in regard to their accuracy, and are always amenable to improvement. But all this is, in point of fact, nothing else but an extremely careful and consequent performance of that which an intelligent man is accustomed to execute without scientific training in the performance of the most ordinary acts of everyday life. It is not surprising that by the tyro in science the effort of the mind is held to be greater in proportion as the laws which he understands and can apply are more comprehensive and exact. The general principles of Mechanics in their abstract mathematical form appear, no doubt, to be far enough removed from the simplicity of popular laws derived from simple experience. ‘They constitute the magic spell by whose aid the moderns have compelled the opposing forces of Nature to submit to their control ; yet they have undoubtedly been acquired in the same way as the minor appliances and handy inventions of the household and of the workshop. That the ancients possessed less scientific knowledge than we who inherit what they acquired need not surprise us. We should rather wonder that in many instances they should have been acquainted with so much than be surprised at their knowing so little. But what never ceases to excite our astonishment is, that these nations who, in the formation of their language, INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME SVT. xi in their laws and in their general polity, in the writing of history, and in the philosophical discussion of abstract ideas, stand no whit behind us— who were, moreover, in many branches of art decidedly our superiors—should exhibit so remarkable an incapacity of discovering the correct mode of solving scientific problems, and even of perceiving the more important questions that arise. We seem to feel that the method which has ultimately yielded so rich a harvest to us, appeared to them too simple and uncom- plicated to excite hope, and that they believed they could obtain superior results by deep cogitation and mental exertion. That they were not wanting in that faculty of observing the phe- nomena around us which I have already termed common sense without scientific training, I need scarcely demonstrate. That faculty is nearly allied to Art and the power of representing characteristic types in an artistic manner; for such types represent order and law.