Many more pages follow. The whole is wound up by the following touching words: 'Louis Philippe having been judged severely by some, harshly by others, it is only natural who is himself at present nothing more than a that one who has known that monarch, and shadowy being, should come and give his evidence for him in the face of History. evidence, be it what it may, is at least disinterested; one shadow may be allowed to console another; to share a common darkness gives a right to praise; and we need not fear of its being said of two tombs in exile: This one

flattered the other.'

This

out talent against mediocrity, clever at playing | and if his mind had been as much imbued with off parliamentary majorities against those mys- a sympathy for what was great as with a sense terious unanimities which keep growling beneath of what was useful.' a throne; open-hearted, sometimes open to the verge of imprudence, but catching himself when thus tripping with wonderful address; fertile in finding expedients, and in putting on a face and a mask; making Europe a bugbear to France, and France to Europe; loving beyond all dispute his country, but preferring his family; prizing mastery more than authority and authority more than dignity-a tendency this which is so far untoward, that, being bent on compassing success, it counts cunning among its instruments and does not exclude baseness, but which is so far beneficial that it preserves the policy of a country from violent crises, the state from fractures, and society from catastrophies; painstaking, accurate, vigilant, attentive, sagacious, indefatigable; sometimes giving himself the lie; showing a bold front to Austria at Ancona, making a dead set at England in Spain, bombarding Antwerp, and paying Pritchard; sing ing the Marseillaise and singing it with zest; inaccessible to dejection, languor, to a taste for the Beautiful and the Ideal, to inconsiderate generosity, to Utopias, to chimæras, to anger, to vanity, and to fear; capable of every known form of personal valour; at Valmy a general, at Jemappes a common soldier; eight times the butt of a regicide, and never with a smile off his face; brave as a grenadier, courageous as a thinker; never uneasy but at the prospect of a European convulsion, and ill-suited for great political schemes; always ready to risk his life, never his throne; making his will felt rather than seen, that the obedience might be paid to the mind more than to the monarch; gifted with observation, not with divination; not troubling himself about currents of thought, but a good judge of men, that is, forced to see before he could decide; full of good sense, prompt and keen, of practical wisdom, ready of speech and with a prodigious memory; to that memory having hourly recourse-his only point of resemblance with Caesar, Alexander, and Napoleon; knowing facts, details, dates, names, but ignorant of the tendencies, the passions, the habits of thought of the multitude, the inward aspirations, the hidden and obscure fermentations of the soul, in a word, of everything which might be called the invisible currents of the conscience; accepted by the surface of France, but not much liked by the lower strata; getting out of the difficulty by finessing; governing too much and not reigning enough; his own Premier; dexterous at stemming the immensity of ideas with the trifles of realities; combining a genuine creative power of civilisation, order, and organisation, with a kind of pettifogging and quibbling spirit; the founder and the Procureur of a dynasty; having in him a dash of Charlemagne and a dash of an attorney; in a word, a man of lofty and original mind, a prince who made his rule felt in spite of the uneasiness of France, and his influence in spite of the jealousy of Europe, Louis Philippe will be classed among the eminent men of his time, and would be ranged among the illustrious Rulers of history, if he had only had a little love of glory,

On the social and political opinions of which these numerous digressions are made the vehicle, it is difficult for an Englishman to speak without impatience and surprise; impatience at the amazing ignorance of the rudiments of social and political philosophy which even such a man as Victor Hugo displays in every line; surprise at the stolidity which prevents the author from seeing that the events which are either the pretext or the cause of his becoming and remaining an exile were but the natural and only possible fruit of those doctrines, which are paraded with so much emphasis and apparent sincerity. Not often has greater genius been placed at the service of greater nonsense. Had we followed the example of certain critics of Les Misérables,' we should have indulged in ridicule of these digressions and this nonsense, to the exclusion of almost all that really constitutes the true beauty and grandeur of the work. Nothing could have been easier than such a task. Possibly the love of detraction, which holds so firm a place in the human heart, might have rendered this treatment more palatable to the public than that which we have adopted. We venture to think, however, that we have chosen the better-we are certain that we have chosen the more laborious-part. We hold, with Winckelmann, that, of all canons of criticism, one of the most important to bear in mind is this-always to set yourself to find out what is beautiful in a work of art before you begin to criticise the defects. Whatever may be the blemishes observable in this work-and we have not been slow to point them out-it bears undoubted traces of having been the produce of much honest toil, and many noble aspirations. Qualities such as these are not of such common occurrence that we should treat their possessor with sarcasm and contempt because he indulges at times in extravagances which test the patience of the reader.

ART. II.—The Platonic Dialogues for English Readers. By William Whewell, D.D. 3 Vols. 1859-1861.

by E. Poste, Esq., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. The first-named publication is already passing through a second edition, and is undoubtedly a very meritorious work. But it can scarcely convey to a reader who is unacquainted with the Greek anything like an adequate impression of the poetical and dramatic power manifested in the 'Republic.' The perusal of it will convince any one who is familiar with the original how difficult it is even for good scholars to translate Plato. The art of translating is like the art of preserving: it is impossible to keep the colour and the aroma in their first freshness, and yet the degree in which this point is approached is the test of skill. Many of the finer touches of Plato's masterpiece have disappeared in this copy.*

Mr. Poste has been more successful. His version, while fastidionsly accurate, combines a certain antique dignity with ease and smoothness. Still it tastes a little too much like the dried fruit. The Philebus' could not by any means be presented to English readers as a popular treatise; but with all the complexity of its massive structure, it has a light and graceful beauty and an harmonious movement, which we would fain have seen more perfectly rendered.

The Platonic Dialogues, as Dr. Whewell has introduced them to us, come before us with a more engaging air. It must be ad

It is one of Mr. Ruskin's dicta that an intelligent and rightly bred youth or girl ought to enjoy much even in Plato by the time they are fifteen or sixteen.' Dr. Whewell is not less sanguine in his expectations. He has acted on the supposition that a large portion of the Platonic Dialogues' can be made intelligible and even interesting to ordinary readers of English literature.' We sympathize with him in his hope, and we applaud the spirit of his undertaking. It may be, indeed, that his endeavour to popularize the way of thinking' known as Greek Philosophy is not throughout inspired with the highest reverence for the genius of these writings, which he prizes chiefly for their educational value. He has not unsphered the spirit' of the great Athenian. But the work presents so many traces of a genuine liking and almost enthusiasm for Plato, and in many parts is executed with so much vigour, that we desire to accept it cordially, not only as an additional proof, if that were needed, of the universality of its author's interests and powers, but as a timely contribution to the Platonic literature of our country. There was certainly room enough in Eng-mitted that they afford very pleasant reading. land for a fresh attempt to make Plato accessible to those who cannot 'enjoy' him in the original. Until late years the only English translation of the whole of Plato's works was that in five thick quarto volumes by Sydenham and Taylor (1804). Sydenham's dialogues (including the Symposium, Meno, and Philebus) leave comparatively little to be desired; but unfortunately the great bulk of the work is done by Taylor, who, though he has turned some things gracefully, is frequently deficient both in style and accuracy. Shelley's Symposium is in parts exquisite in point of language and rhythm, but he has fallen into some errors which were avoided by Sydenham. More recently a complete version of the Dialogues by different hands has been published by Mr. Bohn. The three volumes are of unequal merit, but none of them can pretend to first-rate excellence. To these, and to the elegant little volume of Selections in which Lady Chatterton has brought together some of the most impressive passages of Plato, translated by herself, we can only allude in passing. Besides these, two translations of separate dialogues have lately peared, which have a more serious claim to be considered: of the Republic,' by Messrs. Davies and Vaughan, late Fellows of Trinity College, Cambridge; and of the Philebus,'

They have no lack of perspicuity, nor of freshness and vigour of expression. If other translators, in preserving some nicety of meaning, have occasionally suffered some of the pith and force of the original to escape them, Dr. Whewell, by keeping a tough hold of his author's drift, and of the Saxon idiom, moves with a firm step, even where he may have too hastily let go the finer clue of literal interpretation. But as we have already hinted, we feel a want in reading him which troubles us more than mistakes of construing. The translator has not sufficient faith in his author. For what Wordsworth says of the poet ap

In some cases the rendering appears to be (we write under correction), not merely imperfect, but mistaken: eg p. 373 (St.)—i úr, 'to causes which;' 882, ψεύδεσθαι τε καὶ ἐψεῦσθαι, to lie or to be the victim of a lie;' 421, ¿nioráμeða, 'we are well aware that we might; p. 449, To opoos Touro, 'this word right; p. 492, διαφθειρομένους τινὰς ὑπὸ σοφιστῶν νέους, 'certain individuals corrupted by Sophists in their youth; ib., allocar nos mas aperiv, a character 528, or Troet gedoiws Exe, because it is studied that will regard virtue with different feelings; absurdly; p. 536, obkov was y' ipoi axpoury. A ap-s èpoí, ny d'èyw, pńropi, At least, in listening, I did Well, in speaking it struck me that for it; p. 612, rá ráλa dneλvoápeta rộ Máyty, • And I did;' p. 579, ovdiv dɛóμeros, Without any excuse have we not divested ourselves of all secondary considerations in the course of the argument ?`

not think so.

plies with at least equal force to the philoso- | ready to appreciate the moral grandeur of pher: You must love him, ere to you he will the whole position (even though coloured seem worthy of your love.' And Dr. Whe- here and there with 'Platonic exaggerations'). well is not in the fullest sense a lover of Plato. Had he lived in Athens at the time of its Either his mind has not been cast in the greatest glory, when philosophy had its birth same imaginative mould, or possibly a whole- there, it is more than doubtful whether he some reaction against the high-flying inter- would have accompanied Plato far, but he preters has carried him a little too far. What would have been found with Plato, Euclides, ever may be the cause, he does not appear to and Antisthenes at the feet of Socrates, and be quite an enthusiastic admirer of the Plato- would not have been lightly absent from his nic wisdom, and he is not always a satisfac- master's death. The aspect of Plato's mind tory interpreter of Plato's thoughts. which he has presented to us is perhaps the most universally interesting, and certainly has the nearest affinity to English modes of thought.

To stimulate intelligence, to rouse the mind to seek for clear definitions of familiar notions, especially of those which are at once most familiar and most indefinite, namely, our moral ideas: these objects, common to Plato and Socrates, Dr. Whewell fully recognises, and he exhibits with considerable pith and raciness the inductive' method of catechizing by which they are pursued. But Socrates was something more than an acute reasoner about ethics in their infancy; and the intensity of his personal character was accomin-panied with a corresponding loftiness of intellectual aim. He sought with religious pertinacity not merely knowledge of moral relations, but knowledge as such. And that which binds Plato's dialogues together is the continuation of this speculative impulse and the consciousness of it ever becoming more distinct until it has reached the whole extent of previous and contemporary thought, and has travelled over every surrounding aspect of Hellenic life. The same spirit rules amidst the rich variety of the Phædrus and the comparative simplicity of the Protagoras and

The defect adverted to is not merely that the style is inadequately rendered-that for instance the various music of the Phædrus (παναρμόνιοι ρυθμοί) and the simple grace of the Protagoras are represented by the same rough and occasionally frigid manner-nor merely that the fragmentary mode of treatment is ill adapted for the reproduction of a work of art it is rather that some part of what lay deepest in Plato and of what he most valued is thrown into the background, if not ignored. Hence the gradations through which his philosophy unfolded itself are traced imperfectly, and the real harmony which pervades this diverse body of writings' is obscured and marred. There are elements, deed, of Plato's life-work, to which Dr.Whewell has given fresh prominence, and which a less cool and unexcited handling has sometimes eliminated. For the meteor-light of German philosophy our author has substituted the candle of English common sense; while in his command of geometry he holds a thread which reaches almost directly to the Academy. He has done wisely in protesting against certain crude methods by which Plato's meaning is overlaid with modern thought,' and disguised under the language of Descartes or Hegel. He has further avoid-Meno. ed the mistake of aiming at a formal consistency, while sacrificing the obvious meaning of a particular writing. One bond of connexion between the several dialogues he has brought into full relief; the common presence in them of the direct, unswerving, merciless appeal to common sense, and the absolute determination to uphold an immutable morality. Our author, if not deeply imbued with Platonism, is a genuine Socratic. He is strongly attracted by what Antisthenes called the Socratic vigour (Expatixv iv), the inexorable sequence, the keen wit, the imperturbable good humour, the homely, yet sublime, moral attitude of the Father of Philosophy. He thoroughly enjoys the way

in which Socrates sets the young men athinking; he is entertained with the discomfiture of the Sophist, though he is no less pleased when the adversary makes a good fight of it and dies hard; and he is ever

This ever present spirit of inquiry is the very life of Plato; and it is this which Dr. Whewell appears frequently to overlook. The cause may be partly gathered from his own words in the preface to his first volume :

'If I have been led in many cases to views of the purport of these dialogues different from the views which have been put forth by modern translators and commentators, I have tried to discussed the interpretations proposed by others. give my reasons for my interpretation, and have To those who have been accustomed to the usual style of commenting upon the "Platonic Dialogues," I shall probably appear, especially in the earlier Dialogues of this series, to see in Plato a less profound wisdom than has been com

monly ascribed to him. But I hope the reader will find in the Dialogues themselves, as here presented, and in their connexion with each other, a justification of my views as to the purpose and object of the arguments used. In every part my rule has been to take what seemed the

Lastly, when we remember how closely allied in Plato's mind were the ideas of love and friendship (represented here by the two friends of Lysis, Hippothales and Menexenus), and that love was to him the symbol of the highest philosophy, we shall not be startled if we find this boyish discussion of a boyish affection running up into such questions as 'What would be the case if evil were done away? Would there then be no desire ?* That is not a merely childish discourse, though it might well be suggested by the question of a child, in which we find such words as these: 'Tell me, I beseech you, supposing Evil were destroyed, would there then be no more hungering, nor thirsting, nor any such thing; or would there still be hunger, as a condition of the animal frame, yet so as to do it no harm; and thirst also, and the other desires, only with no touch of evil, seeing that the Evil Nature was destroyed? Or is it not rather vain to ask what would happen or not happen then, for who can tell?'t

a long transition period, in which the Greek was no longer a child, but a growing boy; and when the state, mirrored in the Homeric poems, in which everything in and around the life of man was met with an awestruck, yet loving and familiar reverence, no longer occupied the whole mind of the people, but had retired to the inner chambers of memory, still ready to awake at the touch of the poet into more than imaginary being. Even with the poetical forms, the beginnings of philosophy were ere long inwoven. The fine sense of harmony and proportion inherent in the Greek race was puzzled in comparing past and present, elements of liberty and of order, the Fates and Justice, positive and unwritten law. The Prometheus' of Eschylus, and the Antigone' of Sophocles, had a deeper than the merely poetical interest. Moral reflections, like those of Pindar and Thucydides, began to insert themselves beneath the pictures of Olympus, and to supplant the fear We conclude, therefore, that the hypotheses of the Divine jealousy. The political history of the Lysis' were either seriously put forth of Athens had given scope for the display of by Plato before his own thought on the sub- the highest public qualities, and the exigenject was fully matured, or were seriously in-cies of the state had been a surer guide to tended by him to lead the mind of his reader a few steps in the direction which his own more advanced speculations had taken. The fact that boys are the interlocutors rather favours the latter view; that he is intentionally leading us only part of the way, as children be lifted to catch a momentary glimpse of some pageant which they are not

may

allowed to follow. And it deserves to be re

Themistocles and Pericles than the example, which seemed to animate them, of the heroes of old. The law-courts were training every citizen in the arts of disputation. The more ambitious longed for the power of oratory to sway the Demos. Meanwhile, an ideal philosophy had arisen, and came into contact with this eager, nobile atmosphere of awakened intelligence. Thus Pericles strengthened his hy-mind with the converse of Anaxagoras. And while the true meaning of the earliest thinkers passed over the heads of their contemporaries, and wandered, a mere bodiless creation, until it found harmonious utterance through the mind of Plato, their words were eagerly caught up and applied. Hence philosophy This instance may suffice to indicate the stood in danger of being vulgarized, through importance of comparing Plato with himself. being turned to popular uses. The lofty But to be fully understood he must be studied speculation of Parmenides in the form of the with reference to the whole history of the Zenonian logic was transformed into a mere Greek mind. Dr. Whewell is not insensible gymnastic of the brain, a paradoxical means to this necessity; but it is a point on which of pulling the world to pieces, and of bindthe Historian of the Inductive Sciences mighting fast the spirit of inquiry. The scarcely have rendered more valuable assistance than

marked in confirmation of this, that the pothesis already mentioned that the indifferent loves the good because of the presence of some evil-though it is relinquished because of the difficulties surrounding the mutual relations of good and evil in the world, is not expressly and finally set aside.

we have met with in these volumes.

The age of Socrates and of Plato has features peculiar to itself-it is the culminating point of the Greek intellect; but it may be regarded as typical of every age in which intellectual movements have predominated. And a clear likeness of it is preserved for us in Plato's writings. It had been preceded by

Compare 'Theæt., p. 176, ἀλλ ̓ οὔτε ἀπολέσθαι τὰ κακὰ δυνατόν, ὦ Θεόδωρε, † P. 220.

less exalted theory of Heraclitus became the occasion of the merely subjective doctrine of Protagoras, which threatened to make men indifferent to absolute truth. The singular attitude presented by Socrates was the only means of rescuing the world from this result. It was the reverse of dogmatism, yet it was not the attitude of scepticism but of inquiry. Two things are implied in this:* the belief