to them too similar to allow of a great interval between the two; and even many in which they discover a foretaste of the Timæus, and they might on that account consider the Phædrus as later than the Phædon; whence I explain to myself the fact, that this opinion also has not been without its followers. Whoever, on the other hand, places both works at an equal distance from the Timæus, and is consequently in a condition to survey the whole system uniformly from the two, can hardly, I think, fail to feel surprise when he sees how much more perfect the Phædon appears; wiser, and worthy of more mature age; so that it stands to the Phædrus precisely in the relation of the dying Socrates to him who still hopes to learn much from the people in the market-place. For even the mythical part, to go no further, how much more sober and judicious is it! In this dialogue we hear no more of a supercelestial region, and of a dazzling gaze at ideas, and no necessity arises to assist the dry uncertainty of them by an indistinct image; but it is sufficient, in order to demonstrate the revolution of the soul, to give a theory of the earth, which, though constructed indeed upon lore of poets and wise men, is taken from later sources, and such as contain more of a presentiment of science. Nay, though a special meaning is not to be looked for in every particular, we should, nevertheless, scarcely be disposed to disagree with any one who might suppose that what is said of Socrates' treatment of the Esopic fables, is a justification of the fact, that in the majority of the Platonic myths so little original invention is contained. And how much more finished is the philosophic talent in the Phædon, how much more definite the connection

of the author's own views, how differently, compared with that youthful joy in the first elements, is the philosophical method spoken of, after long practice and complex knowledge; so that certainly in the Phædrus, the young Plato might more easily make Socrates speak so like a youth, than in the Phædon so like a sage. Nay, even if it is to be supposed that Plato, when he wrote the Phædrus, already professed an acquaintance with the Pythagorean writings, which does however to us never seem necessary, how very differently is this school treated of, when it appears in the light of distant mythical wisdom, and here, where Plato sets to work to complete what is insufficient in their doctrines. And then, as to the proof given in the Phædrus, of the immortality of the soul; will any one bring himself to believe that this would be an acceptable supplement, after all the discussion in our dialogue upon that point? Or, must not every one see, on the contrary, that Plato set aside this proof, and as it were disowned it, because he now shrank from calling the soul, as he there does, the original principle; or God, who is the real original principle, soul?

Those, therefore, who believe the Phædon to have been written immediately after the death of Socrates, and the Phædrus not before his Egyptian travels, what proof can they bring forward but that already anticipated in the Introduction to the Phædrus, except perhaps, on the one side, the grand discovery, if we are not the first to make them a present of it, that in the Phædrus Simmias is ranked above Phædrus as an occasion of arguments, because he occasioned those in the Phædon; and on the other side, those particular passages in the Phædrus in which doctrinal points are

enunciated with greater precision than appears suitable to a first piece, and in which words occur, which suppose the existence of investigations not to be found except in subsequent dialogues? But any one must see at once how little that circumstance will avail against all that we have established; and thus, it may be left for every reader to explain for himself, how these few passages in the Phædrus arose from the dialectic tendency of the dialogue, even when the Platonic philosophy was yet in an entirely undeveloped state, so that there may be no occasion for the subterfuge, that they were first introduced on a subsequent elaboration of the work, although they look sufficiently as if they had been so introduced. Finally, without any reference to the Phædrus, there would be nothing to say in favour of so early a position of the Phædon, except that so elaborate a description of Socrates would have been in its place only a short time after his death, and that the passage in the Theatetus about the flight from this world, is intended to be an elucidation of the wish for death in the Phædon; and the allegation of such arguments is sufficiently tantamount to bringing to light the weakness of the cause.

This analysis, into which all that there was to say by way of preface upon the subject of the dialogue, has at the same time spontaneously worked itself, will, it is hoped, secure to the Phædon its place between the Symposium and the Philebus. Beyond this, we find no immediate chronological traces, though several indications do indeed point to a somewhat advanced period. We will draw attention to two only. In the first place, the way in which Socrates not only in the myth describes the locality of the Hellenic education as the

worst district upon earth, but also expressly advises his disciples to seek for wisdom even without Hellas, among the races of barbarians, bears throughout the dress of a late period, where from an acquaintance probably with the Pythagoreans in particular, the passion for the wisdom of the East was excited, and has an entirely different bearing from particular commendations elsewhere bestowed upon the Egyptians, or Locrians, or Getæ. And in the next place, an acquaintance with the writings of Philolaus is manifestly here supposed, and the dialogue itself sufficiently teaches that these had not yet at that time become naturalized in Athens itself, because it is only to his Theban friends that a knowledge of the doctrines of the philosopher, who had lived there, is attributed; and a different style is usually observable in enquiries made after writings already known at Athens; so that the legend certainly acquires a degree of probability, that Plato brought these books home with him from his travels as a present from his friend.

X. PHILEBUS.

FROM the earliest times to the present, the Philebus has been regarded as one of the most important of the works of Plato, and also, as one of the most difficult. Even those who, strangely enough, consider the great majority of his works only as play and pastime, do yet think that he is at last in this dialogue serious for once, and intends to say something that has a meaning. Pity only that this correct sentiment has never

grown into a clearer insight into the work, for those on the one hand, who have in general taken a right view of its most universal bearing, have not been so fortunate in their endeavours to penetrate into the details, and superadd, therefore, to the difficulty of the subject a perplexed style of expression, and confusion of language upon these points; while they who speak easily and intelligibly of the same, display little else than the narrowness of their own capacity to see the meaning of such works, and consequently a very deficient criticism.

Now in this result of the pains we have bestowed upon the dialogue, the place which it occupies, and its connection with the earlier, will contribute much to facilitate the understanding of it, with those who adhere to the indications already given. And, next to these, every reader who pays sufficient regard to the structure of the whole, and the way in which the connection is interrupted and again taken up, may get a clear conception of what is meant beyond what is actually said; following exactly the recommendations we were obliged to give in the case of the Sophist, to which dialogue the present bears an especial resemblance in its principal features. For here also we have a question, and that not an unimportant one, to which of the two, namely, in the life of man, the prize is due, pleasure or knowledge, proposed for decision just at the beginning of the work, and as soon as the question is satisfactorily answered the dialogue concludes, as if in this it had entirely exhausted its subject. But on closer consideration, we see that much that is of weight and importance is intermediately introduced, not essentially connected with the solution of that problem,