of Scipio." There is no space here to dwell upon the rich poetry of the piece, the tribune of the fourth legion caught up into the Milky Way under the guidance of his majestic ancestor Africanus, beholding new heavenly wonders, hearing the deep, awful harmony of the revolving worlds, — a description which may have suggested to Shakespeare the peerless burst in "The Merchant of Venice":

"There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,

Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins."

There is no space for any full quotation respecting the matter directly under consideration. We may discern, it is true, traces of a defective philosophy. We do not believe, as the shade of Africanus is here made to teach, that the soul is of the same substance as the heavenly bodies. It is an unjust slur upon our earthly existence to say, "That which is called your life is really death." There is a taint of undue severity when the body is called a prison, from whose fetters it is only a relief to escape. But these are trifles, mere spots upon the effulgence of the sun, only discoverable through some prying telescope of hypercriticism, not to be counted when a heaven is so distinctly promised as a destination for the good and just, a heaven toward which the aspirations of all great and good men are tending, the path to which is a life of justice and piety, given as a consequence of virtue, but most distinctly not to be sought as a reward for virtue, for virtue "should attract to true glory by her own beauties."

But some space must be devoted to the less grateful task of illustrating the defects in the teaching of Cicero. As we have seen, with respect to his general theory of morals, there is little room for criticism. The moral law is universal, is made known by the conscience. Man is under obligation to obey, and his motive to obedience, according to the general tenor of Cicero, is the very highest. When we descend to particulars, however, we sometimes find occasion to dissent. The whole department of religious obligation, if we admit that ethics is concerned with this, receives insufficient attention. In the department of social obligation, though for the most part we approve, we must sometimes condemn. An enumeration is

made of the circumstances which authorize the accusing of a fellow-man, where Cicero says it may be done, among other motives, "for the sake of revenge." The case is supposed of a father committing a crime. The question is then asked, Should his son inform of him to the magistrate? "To do that, indeed," is Cicero's reply, "would be impiety. Nay, he ought even to defend his father if he were accused of it." † This is generous, but we can hardly admit that filial affection should so override justice. Slaves are mentioned, but there is only an injunction to be honorable in selling them, without any condemnation of the holding of them. We may notice here, too, what can hardly be called an ethical blemish, but a singular blindness in one whose vision of truth in most respects was so acute and comprehensive. The gains of all hired workmen whose source of profit is not their art, but their labor, are stigmatized as necessarily inelegant and mean. Retail merchants can only be despicable. All mechanical labors are base, and a workshop can contain nothing befitting a gentleman (ingenuum). Least of all are those trades to be approved that serve the senses, as fishmongers, bakers, butchers, perfumers, &c.§ As to the department of personal duty, though for the most part all is unobjectionable, there are some positive defects, as in the case of the instruction embodied in the last four of the Tusculans. Cicero appears to rise no higher than to say that grief and pain must be endured bravely, with no gleam apparently of appreciation of the blessed help they may be able to afford to the spirit. But here we must leave Cicero. The attempt has been made to give impartially an idea of the ethical speculations of the great sage. His defects have not been veiled. There are positive blemishes, and perhaps still graver shortcomings of a negative character. He is not panting and burning always with aspiration. There is in him, perhaps, an insufficient sense of human frailty, -no thorough, humble conviction of sinfulness; but after every deduction, so lofty in general is his treatment of these sublime themes, the candid can do no otherwise than bend reverently, as in the presence of a clear-seeing and

* De Off. II. 14.

† Ibid. III. 23.

Ibid. III. 17. § Ibid. I. 42.

most venerable spirit, - fresh from the crowded forum ringing with his denunciation of Catiline or Verres, or broken-hearted from the tomb of his cherished Tullia, in senatorial robe, and Olympian dignity of mind, seeking repose for his spirit in majestic contemplations upon God and duty and immortality. But Cicero merely reproduced and adapted the speculations of his predecessors. Let us follow the stream of ethical thought to the wells of Greek philosophy. The contrast is striking in point of style between Aristotle and his broadbrowed Athenian teacher. The speculation of the latter is overlaid with elaborate imagery, a system draped with attire so rich and so glittering with embellishment, that its outline becomes obscured, and, as in gazing on the figure of some sumptuous Athenian citizen habited in luxurious robes, the beholder is often in doubt as to the true contour of the body and limbs beneath. In Aristotle, on the contrary, the thought stands forth a simple skeleton, — articulated, precise, but hard, dry, and cold. In his treatises the parts are poised almost like mathematical equations; nor can the student despatch them off-hand any more than he can a book of conic sections. The moral theory of Aristotle is principally contained in the Nicomachean Ethics, and from this work we propose to illus trate his teaching.

Without going at length into the psychology of the author, it is sufficient to say that he divides the rational part of the soul into two faculties, one of which, τὸ ἐπιστημονικόν οι vous, is cognizant of the eternal and immutable principles of things; a quality the same, apparently, as that known in German speculation as the "Vernunft," and which in English metaphysics has been called "intuition." Through the possession of this faculty man is enabled to recognize moral distinctions. In this respect Aristotle appears to anticipate the scheme of Kant, which, as was stated, the author of "Intuitive Morals" adopts, and only seeks to popularize. The Greek believed in an eternal moral law, and in the pos session by man of a faculty through which it was to be apprehended. Of man's power to obey this law, when apprehended,

*Eth. Nicom. VI. 1. 5.

there appears to have been no question in the mind of Aristotle, as we judge from his elaborate discussion of the freedom of human choice. Now as to why this moral law should be obeyed. We must here face a question somewhat intricate. Aristotle argues at length of Tò ayalov, the summum bonum, the end at which man should aim, and his conclusion, at first view, is unsatisfactory. It is that evdapovía, a term which we commonly render happiness, is the highest good. But let us look more closely at this term. This evdapovía is not pleasure (dový), for we read, "The generality of mankind seem to be deceived by pleasure; for it appears to be the good, though it is not so."§ We find this evdaiμovía to be "an energy of the soul according to its virtue." || If we may follow Professor Browne, this "energy" is simply "an active state." The notion of Aristotle respecting happiness, then, appears to be simply this, that it is the virtuous activity of the soul. Ritter complains, indeed, that Aristotle's idea of happiness is very indeterminate; ¶ but if we may take it in the sense just given, and what else it can be made to mean it is impossible to see, namely, that it is for the soul to act ever virtuously, no higher object can be proposed as the "great good." That no ulterior profit is to be looked for is taught in the following: "An act to be virtuous must be done with deliberate choice, and deliberate choice on its own account.'

In considering the matter of virtue, the sage insists very luminously upon a most important matter, often not kept in due prominence at the present day, even with our light. A virtue is not a passion or sentiment (málos), not a capacity (divapus), but a habit (is).†† The doctrine is laid down that we are naturally adapted to receive the virtues, but they do not belong to us by nature.‡‡ We acquire the virtues by doing good actions. For instance, by doing just actions we become just, by doing temperate actions temperate, &c. On this point Aristotle is very clear, and insists in an admirable

way on the necessity of beginning at the earliest age the formation of good habits, which are the virtues, and the obligation upon parents to see punctually that children perform good actions, that early and substantial foundation may be laid for excellent character.

Taking up now the particular departments of duty, as to the religious obligations there is almost complete silence. The Deity, indeed, is mentioned; but of any obligation on our part to worship, we can recall in the Nicomachean Ethics no statement. It cannot, indeed, be said, that Aristotle pretends to furnish in this treatise any exhaustive catalogue of particular duties, being concerned rather with the general principles of ethics; yet the exacting critic, applying the language of "Intuitive Morals" to this case, will declare the moral scheme of Aristotle to be acephalous.*

Coming to social duty, however, there is less room for objection. Man is regarded as inseparable from society. Ethics is only a subdivision of politics, or the science of social life, and the obligations under which we lie as members of the human family are made especially prominent. When we come to understand fairly the terminology of Aristotle, there appears to be in this department but little occasion for criticism. It is to be noticed as a feature of especial excellence, that great prominence is assigned to the quality pixía, friendship, or love. Indeed, this quality is made to supersede other, even the most important virtues. "When men are friends (that is, bound by this pixía), there is no need of justice," a sentence which will bring to mind the Scriptural maxim that love is the fulfilling of the law.

As to personal virtue, strict purity is enjoined. Considerable stress is laid upon the quality μeyaλovvxía, which appears to come near to our quality of self-respect, being distinguished on the one hand from vanity, and on the other from self-abasement. Self-love is justified in much the same way as that employed by Bishop Butler. Perhaps we may say that these qualities, as defined by Aristotle, are hardly consistent with the very highest Christian humility and self-forgetfulness.

Intuit. Morals, Pt. II., Introd., p. xi.

† Eth. Nicom. VIII. 1. 4.