In nearly all religions God remains far from man. I say in nearly all religions: for in Brahmanism the unity, not the union, of the human soul with Brahma is recognised as the highest aim. This unity with Deity, together with phenomenal difference, Jesus expressed in part through the _Logos_, in part through the Son. There is nothing so closely allied as thought and word, Father and Son. They can be distinguished but never separated, for they exist only through each other. In this matter the Greek<b> philosophers considered all creation as the thought or the word of God, and the thought 'man' became naturally the highest _Logos_, realised in millions of men, and raised to the highest perfection in Jesus. As the thought exists only through the word, and the word only through the thought, so also the Father exists only through the Son, and the Son through the Father, and in this sense Jesus feels and declares himself the Son of God, and all men who believe in Him His brethren. This revelation or inspiration came to mankind through Jesus. No one knew the Father except the Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, and those to whom the Son willeth to reveal Him. This is the Christian Revelation in the true sense of the word.
Then it is said, Is not Christ God? Yes, He is, but in His own sense, not in the Jewish nor in the Greek sense, nor in the sense which so many Christians attach to that article of their faith. Christ's teaching is that we are of God, that there is in us something divine, that we are nothing if we are not that. He also teaches that through our own fault we are now widely separated from God, as a son may be entirely separated and alienated from his father. But God is a perfect and loving Father--He knows that we can be weak, and yet be good, and when His lost sons return to Him He receives them and forgives them as only a father can forgive. Let us bestow all praise and glory on Christ as the best son of God. Let us feel how unworthy we are to be called His brothers, and the children of God, but let us not lose Christ, and lose our Father whom He came to show us, by exalting Jesus beyond the place which He claimed Himself. Christ never calls Himself the Father, He speaks of His Father with love, but always with humility and reverence. All attempts to find in human language a better expression than that of son have failed. Theologians and philosophers have tried in vain to define more accurately the relation of Christ to the Father, of man to God. They have called Christ another person of the Godhead. Is that better than Christ's own simple human language, I go to my Father?
What is true Christianity if it be not the belief in the true sonship of man, as the Greek<b> philosophers had rightly surmised, but had never seen realised on earth? Here is the point where the two great intellectual currents of the Aryan and Semitic worlds flow together, in that the long-expected Messiah of the Jews was recognised as the _Logos_, the true Son of God, and that He opened or revealed to every man the possibility to become what he had always been, but had never before apprehended, the highest thought, the Word, the Logos, the Son of God.
To assume that every word, every letter, every parable, every figure was whispered to the authors of the Gospels, is certainly an absurdity, and rests only on human ... authority. But the true revelation, the real truth, as it was already anticipated by the Greek<b> philosophers, slowly accepted by Jews, like Philo and the contemporaries of Jesus, taught by men like Clement and Origen in the ancient Greek Church, and, in fine, realised in the life of Jesus, and sealed by His death, is no absurdity: it is for every thinking Christian the eternal life, or the Kingdom of God on earth, which Jesus wished to establish, and in part did establish. To become a citizen of this Kingdom is the highest that man can attain, but it is not attained merely through baptism and confirmation; it must be gained in earnest spiritual conflict.
It was exactly because the doctrine of Christ, more than that of the founders of any other religion, offered in the beginning an expression of the highest truths in which Jewish carpenters, Roman publicans, and Greek<b> philosophers could join without dishonesty, that it has conquered the best part of the world. It was because attempts were made from very early times to narrow and stiffen the outward expression of our faith, to put narrow dogma in the place of trust and love, that the Christian Church often lost those who might have been its best defenders, and that the religion of Christ has almost ceased to be what, before all things, it was meant to be, a religion of world-wide love and charity.
In the essential principles laid down by both philosophers as to the relation of the state to education, and in the corollaries they drew from that relation, they were not at variance with the accepted Greek theory on the subject. It is true that the actual practice of Greek states departed, and often widely, from this ideal, for, especially in later centuries, the Greek always tended to live his own life. The nearest approach to the theory was found in Sparta, where the end of the state as a military organization was kept steadily in view, and where, after early childhood, the young citizens were trained directly by the state in a kind of barrack life--the boys to become warriors, the girls the mothers of warriors. It was this feature of Spartan education, together with the rude simplicity of life it enforced, which attracted Plato, and, to a less extent, Aristotle. In Athens there had of old been state laws insisting on the attendance of the children of the free citizens at school, and, in some degree, regulating the schools themselves. But at the time of Plato these had fallen into desuetude, and the state directly concerned itself only with the training of the ephebi, for which, we learn from Aristotle's _Constitution of Athens_, somewhat elaborate provisions were made by the appointment of officers, and the regulation of both intellectual and physical pursuits. For children and youths under the ephebic age there was no practical regulation of schools or palaestra by the state. Yet there is no doubt that the education really given was in conformity with Athenian ideals of culture and life, and that it was generally received by the children of free citizens, though of course the sons of the wealthy, then as now, could and did continue their attendance at school to a later age than their poorer brethren. The education of girls was essentially a domestic training. What Plato and Aristotle, with the theorist's love of official systematic regulation, regarded as the greatest defect of Athenian education was in reality its strongest point. In practice, the harmony between individual liberty and social claims was much more nearly attained under a system of free working out of common thoughts and ideals than would have been the case under one of the irresistible imposition from without of a rigid mould. Entry: I
GYMNASTICS AND GYMNASIUM, terms signifying respectively a system of physical exercises practised either for recreation or for the purpose of promoting the health and development of the body, and the building where such exercises are carried on. The gymnasium of the Greeks was originally the school where competitors in the public games received their training, and was so named from the circumstance that these competitors exercised naked ([Greek: gymnos]). The gymnasium was a public institution as distinguished from the palaestra, which was a private school where boys were trained in physical exercises, though the term palaestra is also often used for the part of a gymnasium specially devoted to wrestling and boxing. The athletic contests for which the gymnasium supplied the means of training and practice formed part of the social life of the Greeks from the earliest times. They were held in honour of heroes and gods; sometimes forming part of a periodic festival, sometimes of the funeral rites of a deceased chief. In course of time the Greeks grew more attached to such sports; their free active life, spent to a great extent in the open air, fostered the liking almost into a passion. The victor in any athletic contest, though he gained no money prize, was rewarded with the honour and respect of his fellow citizens; and a victory in the great religious festivals was counted an honour for the whole state. In these circumstances the training of competitors for the greater contests became a matter of public concern; and accordingly special buildings were provided by the state, and their management entrusted to public officials. The regulation of the gymnasium at Athens is attributed by Pausanias (i. 39. 3) to Theseus. Solon made several laws on the subject; but according to Galen it was reduced to a system in the time of Cleisthenes. Ten _gymnasiarchs_, one from each tribe, were appointed annually. These performed in rotation the duties of their office, which were to maintain and pay the persons who were training for public contests, to conduct the games at the great Athenian festivals, to exercise general supervision over the morals of the youths, and to adorn and keep up the gymnasium. This office was one of the ordinary [Greek: leitourgiai] (public services), and great expense was entailed on the holders. Under them were ten _sophronistae_, whose duty was to watch the conduct of the youths at all times, and especially to be present at all their games. The practical teaching and selecting of the suitable exercises for each youth were in the hands of the _paedotribae_ and _gymnastae_, the latter of whom also superintended the effect on the constitution of the pupils, and prescribed for them when they were unwell. The _aleiptae_ oiled and rubbed dust on the bodies of the youths, acted as surgeons, and administered the drugs prescribed. According to Galen there was also a teacher of the various games of ball. The gymnasia built to suit these various purposes were large buildings, which contained not merely places for each kind of exercise, but also a stadium, baths, covered porticos for practice in bad weather, and outer porticos where the philosophers and men of letters read public lectures and held disputations. Entry: GYMNASTICS
The most distinctively oriental title of the Greek Aphrodite is Urania, the Semitic "queen of the heavens." It has been explained by reference to the lunar character of the goddess, but more probably signifies "she whose seat is in heaven," whence she exercises her sway over the whole world--earth, sea, and air alike. Her cult was first established in Cythera, probably in connexion with the purple trade, and at Athens it is associated with the legendary Porphyrion, the purple king. At Thebes, Harmonia (who has been identified with Aphrodite herself) dedicated three statues, of Aphrodite Urania, Pandemos, and Apostrophia. A few words must be added on the second of these titles. There is no doubt that Pandemos was originally an extension of the idea of the goddess of family and city life to include the whole people, the political community. Hence the name was supposed to go back to the time of Theseus, the reputed author of the reorganization of Attica and its demes. Aphrodite Pandemos was held in equal regard with Urania; she was called [Greek: semuê] ("holy"), and was served by priestesses upon whom strict chastity was enjoined. In time, however, the meaning of the term underwent a change, probably due to the philosophers and moralists, by whom a radical distinction was drawn between Aphrodite Urania and Pandemos. According to Plato (_Symposium_, 180), there are two Aphrodites, "the elder, having no mother, who is called the heavenly Aphrodite--she is the daughter of Uranus; the younger, who is the daughter of Zeus and Dione--her we call common." The same distinction is found in Xenophon's _Symposium_ (viii. 9), although the author is doubtful whether there are two goddesses, or whether Urania and Pandemos are two names for the same goddess, just as Zeus, although one and the same, has many titles; but in any case, he says, the ritual of Urania is purer, more serious, than that of Pandemos. The same idea is expressed in the statement (quoted by Athenaeus, 569d, from Nicander of Colophon) that after Solon's time courtesans were put under the protection of Aphrodite Pandemos. But there is no doubt that the cult of Aphrodite was on the whole as pure as that of any other divinities, and although a distinction may have existed in later times between the goddess of legal marriage and the goddess of free love, these titles do not express the idea. Aphrodite Urania was represented in Greek art on a swan, a tortoise or a globe; Aphrodite Pandemos as riding on a goat, symbolical of wantonness. (For the legend of Theseus and Aphrodite hepitagia, "on the goat," see Farnell, _Cults_, ii. p. 633.) Entry: APHRODITE
At the opposite pole stood ancient Greece. Here ceremonial casuistry found no place, because there were no sacred books. "Among the Greeks writing never attained the consecration of religion. No system of doctrine and observance, no manuals containing authoritative rules of morality, were ever transmitted in documentary form. In conduct they shrank from formulae. Unvarying rules petrified action; the need of flexibility, of perpetual adjustment, was strongly felt" (Butcher, _The Greek Genius_, p. 182). For this reason their interest in ethical speculations was all the keener; their great thinkers were endlessly engaged in settling what the relation ought to be between duty and self-interest. Ought one to swallow up the other--and, if so, which should prevail? Or was it possible to patch up a compromise between them? The great Stoic philosophers took the austerest line, and held that duty should always and everywhere be our only law. But it was one thing to enunciate such magnificent theories in a lecture, and quite another to apply them in the market-place. Casuistry came to the aid of average human nature--that is to say, pupils began to confront the master with hard cases taken from daily life. And more than one master was disposed to make large--even startlingly large--concessions to the exigencies of practice. This concrete side of moral philosophy came specially into evidence when Stoicism was transplanted to Rome. Cicero's _De Officiis_ abounds in the kind of question afterwards so warmly discussed by Dr Johnson and his friends. Is it ever right to tell a lie? May a lawyer defend a client whom he knows to be guilty? In selling my goods, is it enough not to disguise their shortcomings, or ought I candidly to admit them? Seneca even made the discussion of such problems into a regular discipline, claiming that their concrete character gave an interest in morality to those who had no love for abstractions; while they prevented those who had from losing themselves in the clouds. And M. Thamin maintains that, if his heroes did not form great characters, at any rate they taught the Roman child to train its conscience. But, then, Cicero and Seneca took common-sense as their guide. They decided each problem on its merits, looking more to the spirit than to the letter, and often showing a practical sagacity worthy of Johnson himself. Quite in the great doctor's spirit is Cicero's counsel to his son, to hear what the philosophers had to say, but to decide for himself as a man of the world. Such advice could not be grateful to the philosophers themselves--then a definite professional class, not unlike the "spiritual directors" of a later Rome, who earned their bread by smoothing away the doubts of the scrupulous on all matters intellectual and moral. Their great weapon was their logic; and a logician, as Pascal says, must be very unfortunate or very stupid if he cannot manage to find exceptions to every conceivable rule. In their hands casuistry became the art of finding such exceptions. From the Greek sophists they borrowed ingenious ways of playing off one duty against another, or duty in general against self-interest--leaving the doubter in the alternative of neglecting the one and being a knave, or neglecting the other and being a fool. Or else they raised a subtle distinction between the act and the intention. To get drunk for the sake of the drink was the mark of a beast; but wine was a powerful stimulant to the brain, and to fuddle oneself in order to think great thoughts was worthy of a sage. No doubt these airy paradoxes were not always seriously taken; but it is significant that a common Roman proverb identified "philosophizing" (_philosophatur_) with thinking out some dirty trick. Entry: CASUISTRY
The characteristics of this practical goodness in Plato's matured thought correspond to the fundamental conceptions in his view of the universe. The soul of man, in its good or normal condition, must be ordered and harmonized under the guidance of reason. The question then arises, "Wherein does this order or harmony precisely consist?" In explaining how Plato was led to answer this question, it will be well to notice that, while faithfully maintaining the Socratic doctrine that the highest virtue was inseparable from knowledge of the good, he had come to recognize an inferior kind of virtue, possessed by men who were not philosophers. It is plain that if the good that is to be known is the ultimate ground of the whole of things, it is attainable only by a select and carefully trained few. Yet we can hardly restrict all virtue to these alone. What account, then, was to be given of ordinary "civic" bravery, temperance and justice? It seemed clear that men who did their duty, resisting the seductions of fear and desire, must have right opinions, if not knowledge, as to the good and evil in human life; but whence comes this right "opinion"? Partly, Plato said, it comes by nature and "divine allotment," but for its adequate development "custom and practice" are required. Hence the paramount importance of education and discipline for civic virtue; and even for future philosophers such moral culture, in which physical and aesthetic training must co-operate, is indispensable; no merely intellectual preparation will suffice. His point is that perfect knowledge cannot be implanted in a soul that has not gone through a course of preparation including much more than physical training. What, then, is this preparation? A distinct step in psychological analysis was taken when Plato recognized that its effect was to produce the "harmony" above mentioned among different parts of the soul, by subordinating the impulsive elements to reason. These non-rational elements he further distinguished as appetitive ([Greek: to epithumêtikon]) and spirited ([Greek: to thumoeides] or [Greek: thumos])--the practical separateness of which from each other and from reason he held to be established by our inner experience. Entry: A
GYMNOSOPHISTS (Lat. _gymnosophistae_, from Gr. [Greek: gymnos, sophistês], "naked philosophers"), the name given by the Greeks to certain ancient Hindu philosophers who pursued asceticism to the point of regarding food and clothing as detrimental to purity of thought. From the fact that they often lived as hermits in forests, the Greeks also called them _Hylobioi_ (cf. the _Vana-prasthas_ in Sanskrit writings). Diogenes Laërtius (ix. 61 and 63) refers to them, and asserts that Pyrrho of Elis, the founder of pure scepticism, came under their influence, and on his return to Elis imitated their habits of life, to what extent does not appear. Strabo (xv. 711, 714) divides them into Brahmans and Sarmans (or Shamans). See JAINS. Entry: GYMNOSOPHISTS
Epicurus died of stone in 270 B.C. He left his property, consisting of the garden ([Greek: Kêpoi Epikourou]), a house in Melite (the south-west quarter of Athens), and apparently some funds besides, to two trustees on behalf of his society, and for the special interest of some youthful members. The garden was set apart for the use of the school; the house became the house of Hermarchus and his fellow-philosophers during his lifetime. The surplus proceeds of the property were further to be applied to maintain a yearly offering in commemoration of his departed father, mother and brothers, to pay the expenses incurred in celebrating his own birthday every year on the 7th of the month Gamelion, and for a social gathering of the sect on the 20th of every month in honour of himself and Metrodorus. Besides similar tributes in honour of his brothers and Polyaenus, he directed the trustees to be guardians of the son of Polyaenus and the son of Metrodorus; whilst the daughter of the last mentioned was to be married by the guardians to some member of the society who should be approved of by Hermarchus. His four slaves, three men and one woman, were left their freedom. His books passed to Hermarchus. Entry: EPICURUS
BOPP, FRANZ (1791-1867), German philologist, was born at Mainz on the 14th of September 1791. In consequence of the political troubles of that time, his parents removed to Aschaffenburg, in Bavaria, where he received a liberal education at the Lyceum. It was here that his attention was drawn to the languages and literature of the East by the eloquent lectures of Karl J. Windischmann, who, with G.F. Creuzer, J.J. Görres, and the brothers Schlegel, was full of enthusiasm for Indian wisdom and philosophy. And further, Fr. Schlegel's book, _Über die Sprache und Weisheit der Indier_ (Heidelberg, 1808), which was just then exerting a powerful influence on the minds of German philosophers and historians, could not fail to stimulate also Bopp's interest in the sacred language of the Hindus. In 1812 he went to Paris at the expense of the Bavarian government, with a view to devote himself vigorously to the study of Sanskrit. There he enjoyed the society of such eminent men as A.L. Chézy, S. de Sacy, L.M. Langlès, and, above all, of Alexander Hamilton (1762-1824), who had acquired, when in India, an acquaintance with Sanskrit, and had brought out, conjointly with Langlès, a descriptive catalogue of the Sanskrit manuscripts of the Imperial library. At that library Bopp had access not only to the rich collection of Sanskrit manuscripts, most of which had been brought from India by Father Pons early in the 18th century, but also to the Sanskrit books which had up to that time issued from the Calcutta and Serampore presses. The first fruit of his four years' study in Paris appeared at Frankfort-On-Main in 1816, under the title _Über das Conjugationssystem der Sanskritsprache in Vergleichung mit jenem der griechischen, lateinischen, persischen und germanischen Sprache_, and it was accompanied with a preface from the pen of Windischmann. In this first book Bopp entered at once on the path on which the philological researches of his whole subsequent life were concentrated. It was not that he wished to prove the common parentage of Sanskrit with Persian, Greek, Latin and German, for that had long been established; but his object was to trace the common origin of their grammatical forms, of their inflections from composition,--a task which had never been attempted. By a historical analysis of those forms, as applied to the verb, he furnished the first trustworthy materials for a history of the languages compared. Entry: BOPP
In so far as there is any important difference between the Platonic and the Aristotelian views of human good, we may observe that the latter has substantially a closer correspondence to the positive element in the ethical teaching of Socrates, though it is presented in a far more technical and scholastic form, and involves a more distinct rejection of the fundamental Socratic paradox. The same result appears when we compare the methods of the three philosophers. Although the Socratic induction forms a striking feature of Plato's dialogues, his ideal method of ethics is purely deductive; he admits common sense only as supplying provisional steps and starting-points from which the mind is to ascend to knowledge of absolute good, through which knowledge alone, as he conceives, the lower notions of particular goods are to be truly conceived. Aristotle, discarding the transcendentalism of Plato, naturally retained from Plato's teaching the original Socratic method of induction from and verification by common opinion. Indeed, the windings of his exposition are best understood if we consider his literary manner as a kind of Socratic dialogue formalized and reduced to a monologue. He first leads us by an induction to the fundamental notion of ultimate end or good for man. All men, in acting, aim at some result, either for its own sake or as a means to some further end; but obviously not everything can be sought merely as a means; there must be some ultimate end. In fact men commonly recognize such an end, and agree to call it well-being[3] ([Greek: eudaimonia]). But they take very different views of its nature; how shall we find the true view? We observe that men are classified according to their functions; all kinds of man, and indeed all organs of man, have their special functions, and are judged as functionaries and organs according as they perform their functions well or ill. May we not then infer that man, as man, has his proper function, and that the well-being or "doing well" that all seek really lies in fulfilling well the proper function of man,--that is, in living well that life of the rational soul which we recognize as man's distinctive attribute? Entry: A