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Greek ethics has had a kind of renaissance in the last few years. A number of authors, tired, perhaps, of debates about forms of utilitarianism or technicalities of metaethics, have pointed to the classical Greek theories as offering a wider perspective. Three points in particular have been singled out for praise. First, Greek authors were usually concerned to provide an account of the good life for man – what they called eudaimonia, happiness – as opposed to focusing narrowly on right or good action. Second, this wider scope led them to treat seriously and without philistine prejudices the question of motives for morality, or reasons for wanting to be good – a question that has been an embarrassment to both Kantians and utilitarians. Finally, the Greek philosophers tended to be concerned with virtues of character, the traits that underlie or explain a disposition to act in the right way, more than with principles of right action. This is an advantage for two reasons. First, it would seem that our evaluations of people as distinct from actions must be based on a consideration of their character – indeed, even actions can hardly be understood or evaluated without regard to the agent's motives, and motives have more to do with character than with theoretical justification. Second, it seems that if ethics is to have some beneficial effect, preaching the rules of morality would be a most unpromising way of trying to achieve this.
The puzzle that has led me to put together the story that follows is, I think, one that will be familiar to every reader of early modern philosophy: what is natural about natural law?
The term “natural law” refers, it would seem, to the rules of morality conceived of as a kind of legal system, but one that has not been enacted by any human legislator. By contrast to human legal codes, the natural law is supposed to be valid independently of any formal procedures, and such that it cannot be changed. Besides, this law is supposed to provide the standards by which human legislation is to be judged – laws will be just or unjust depending on whether they do or do not conform to natural law. This is, at any rate, the concept of natural law that I'm going to talk about.
Why should such a code of moral rules be called natural law? What nature is one appealing to here? The nature of the universe? or of man? or of human society? It seems that all those answers have in fact been given, once the term “natural law” had become part of the legal and philosophical vocabulary. So there seems to be no single correct answer to my initial question; but it might still be worth asking how this very flexible notion arose, who introduced it, and for what purpose.
Xenophanes of Colophon was a philosopher and poet of the late sixth and early fifth centuries. Although an Ionian by birth, he evidently lived as an exile in Sicily.
(DK 2, W2, lines 11–19)
… Better than the strength
of men or of horses is my sophia.
And though it is often foolishly believed to be so, it is not just
to prefer strength to good sophia.
For it is not having a good boxer among the people,
or a good pentathlete or wrestler,
or one who is swift of foot – which has the highest
honor in men's contests of strength – none
of these could give a city a good constitution (eunomia).
(DK 15)
But if cows and horses and lions had hands
and could draw with their hands and accomplish what men do,
horses would draw images of gods like horses,
and cows like cows, and each would make statues
of the gods like the bodies they have themselves.
(DK 16)
Ethiopeans make their gods black and snub-nosed,
Thracians make theirs blue-eyed and red-haired.
(DK 11)
Both Homer and Hesiod have attributed to the gods
everything that calls for blame and reproach among humans:
stealing, adultery, and deceiving one another.
(DK 34)
And no man has seen with certainty or will ever know
about the gods or any other thing of which I speak;
even if someone happened to speak with highest perfection,
he still would not know, but opinion is built into everything.
The “Old Oligarch” is the name commonly given by modern scholars to the author of this anonymous treatise on the government of Athens, which was preserved among the writings of the Athenian historian and thinker, Xenophon (born c. 430). Technically it is called pseudo-Xenophon's Constitution of the Athenians. The date of the treatise is uncertain, but the consensus is that it was written after 446 (because of events mentioned in 3.11) but probably before 424 (because of an event not mentioned in 2.5).
The author may be an Athenian in exile, for he speaks of Athenians as “they” (1.1 etc.) but also as “we” (1.12 etc.). He disapproves of their democratic constitution but admires the skill with which they have implemented this system. His style is very uneven, and the purpose of the treatise has long puzzled scholars. In our view the treatise belongs to the fifth-century debate about the relative merits of different constitutions and may have been an exercise that, like the Dissoi Logoi, required the assessment of both pros and cons.
[1] My subject is the constitution (politeia) of the Athenians. I do not approve their choice of this type of constitution, for in making their choice they preferred the well-being of the inferior class (ponēroi) at the expense of the better class (chrēstoi). For this reason, then, I do not approve of it.
Critias was a relative (probably cousin) of Plato's mother, from an old and wealthy Athenian family which, like most such families, traditionally favored close relations with Sparta; he seems to have been a vocal advocate of Spartan customs (see frs. 18–21). He is best known as one of the leaders of the Thirty, a group of oligarchs who with the support of Sparta staged a coup against the democratic government of Athens in 404–403. The Thirty had some reasonable goals but their regime soon turned brutal, and democrats regained power in 403. Critias was killed in the final battle at about the age of fifty. The moderate tone of his surviving fragments seems strangely incongruent with the cruelty and violence that characterized his last year. See the Bibliographical Note, § B.5, for details of the fragments in our selection.
Tragedies
Pirithus
Ancient sources ascribe Pirithus to Euripides, but most scholars accept Critias' authorship.
(DK 21, S 10)
Speaking with a well exercised mind, he was the first
to make his throw, and devised this logos:
“Fortune is an ally to those with good sense.”
(DK 22, S 11)
A good character (tropos) is more certain than a law,
Protagoras was born in Abdera around 485 and enjoyed a career of forty years as a professional teacher. He traveled widely and was richly paid for his efforts. The tradition that he was a student of Democritus is probably false, although he too came from Abdera. Most scholars also doubt the story that Protagoras was tried in Athens and condemned for atheism.
We translate here all of the generally accepted fragments, as well as texts in which Protagoras is paraphrased or closely imitated. We have shown only as much of the context as is needed for comprehension. Irrelevant intrusions of context have been omitted without comment. Some passages contain only a word or phrase that is a quotation from Protagoras; in such cases we have underlined the quotation and supplied the necessary context in normal print. We have included titles of works by Protagoras that are well attested and are interesting in their own right. We have also included passages that probably represent teachings of Protagoras that have been filtered through the teachings of other thinkers; these passages are labeled “reconstruction.”
In a few cases we print passages that have long been associated with Protagoras, even though we are not convinced that their content is due to Protagoras. In such cases we preface our designation with the comment “doubtful.”
Pindar (518–c. 440) was an aristocratic Boeotian lyric poet known especially for his odes in honor of victors at festivals such as the one at Olympia. He wrote for rich and powerful patrons throughout the Greek world and was, on the whole, a defender of tradition. The fragment translated here comes from one of the most frequently cited poems of Greek antiquity. It is most notably cited by Herodotus (3.38, fr. 3) and by Plato, Gorgias 484b (Unknown authors, fr. 2), who quotes the first five lines and summarizes part of the remainder (cf. Laws 680b). About forty lines of the poem have been reconstructed from a recently discovered papyrus and other sources, but the original meaning is increasingly uncertain after line 20. Pindar's point appears to be that, despite the apparent injustice of Heracles' violent treatment of his two victims, the traditional glorification of Heracles' labors makes this behavior just.
The Nomos–Basileus fragment (S 169)
Custom (nomos), king of all,
of mortals and immortals,
takes up and justifies what is most violent
with a supremely high hand. As evidence,
I cite the deeds of Heracles:
for he drove the cattle of Geryon
to the Cyclopean courtyard of Eurystheus
without paying, and when they were not for sale. […]
This short piece is preserved with a group of hymns attributed to Homer, but most probably date from the seventh or sixth centuries. Hephaestus is the smith-god; in the Iliad he forges Achilles' elaborate new armor.
Sing, Muse with clear voice, of Hephaestus, famed for inventiveness,
who together with gray-eyed Athena taught glorious crafts (erga)
to mortals on earth. In earlier times they lived
in caves on mountains like wild beasts,
but now they have learned crafts because of Hephaestus, famed for skill
and thus all year long they pass their lives
easily, without care in their own houses.
Look favorably on me, Hephaestus, and grant me aretē and prosperity.
Sophocles lived 496–406. In addition to his poetic activity, he held a minor, hereditary priesthood, and he was elected general, perhaps more than once. His first production was in 468 and we are told that he wrote about 120 plays during his career. He was victorious eighteen times with his plays at the Greater Dionysia (i.e. with seventy-two individual plays).
Antigone
Chorus (332–375)
This choral passage, often called the “Ode to Man,” follows a long speech by Creon in justification of his decree forbidding the burial of Polyneices on the grounds that he was a traitor to the city. Earlier Antigone had affirmed her intention to bury him. Creon asserts that the primary duty of a king is to uphold law and order in the city. In view of the tragic turn of events, there is undoubtedly irony in the optimistic view of the progress of human civilization expressed in this ode. Antigone was produced about 442, and the ode is one of the earliest surviving expressions of the progressive anthropology developed during the sophistic period. Compare Aeschylus' Prometheus (frs. 1–3), Protagoras' Myth (fr. 8), Euripides, fr. 4, Critias, fr. 5, and Democritus, fr. 1.
The passages printed in this book are for the most part short, and many of them are fragmentary. They have all been the subject of far more scholarly research than can be aired in this format. We have tried to provide sufficient explanatory material for students to reach a basic understanding of the texts. Those who wish to go further may consult the Bibliographical Note. All readers should be warned that nothing presented here is beyond controversy.
We have been generous in our selection of texts. Some texts of doubtful authenticity that nevertheless represent pre-Platonic political thought have been included. Some texts have been chosen not because of what they say about political theory, but for the light they shed on other texts that are directly relevant to our themes. Questions of authenticity are mentioned in the notes when they arise. We have arranged our texts by genre, with the sophists at the end. We exclude texts representing the thought of Socrates, who will be the subject of another volume in this series. For a chronology of authors and events, see below, pp. xxxii–xxxv. Unless otherwise indicated, all our dates are bce.
The translations aim at clarity and accuracy, and for the most part follow the structure of the original Greek. Translations of Greek verse are roughly line-for-line, and verse passages are provided with the Greek line numbers for convenient reference.
The following fragments are attributed to minor tragedians, or are anonymous tragic fragments plausibly assigned to the period. Authors who are not native Athenians probably wrote their tragedies for production in Athens.
Thespis (TGF 1 F 3)
You see that Zeus is first among the gods in this respect,
that he does not lie or boast or laugh foolishly.
Only he does not know pleasure.
Aristarchus of Tegea, Tantalus (TGF 14 F 1b)
About these matters [the gods] it's all the same to speak well or badly,
to inquire or to remain ignorant.
For the wise (sophoi) know no more about them than the ignorant,
and if one man speaks about them better than another,
his superiority is only in his ability to speak.
Ion of Chios, Alcmene (TGF 19 F 5a)
All things are born ignorant at first
and are taught by experience.
Ion of Chios, Alcmene (TGF 19 F 55)
The maxim “know thyself” is not much to say,
but only Zeus among the gods knows how to do it.
Iophon, Bacchae (TGF 22 F 2)
Being a woman I know this,
that the more one seeks to know matters divine,
the less one knows.
Agathon (TGF 39 F 5)
This thing only is beyond the power of god:
to make it so that what has been done never happened.
Theognis was an elegiac poet of the sixth century who most likely came from Megara. About 1,400 lines of verse have come down to us under his name. Some of these verses are elsewhere attributed to other poets, and it is likely that the corpus includes lines that are not written by Theognis. Of Theognis' life we know little, but we can infer from the poems that he was concerned to give advice to a young friend Cyrnus, and that he lived in a time of political upheaval.
Various fragmentary passages on different topics are all run together in what has come down to us. We have excerpted several passages that bear on ancient political thought. Some of these are probably complete poems. As all these verses represent upper-class views of the period, we have not taken a position on the question of authorship.
Lines 39–52
Cyrnus, this city is pregnant; I fear she may give birth to a man
to straighten out our evil hubris,
for these citizens are still sound of mind, but their leaders
have turned towards a fall into great evil.
No city has yet been destroyed by good men, Cyrnus;
but when it pleases evil men to commit hubris,
when they corrupt the common people and give judgment
in favor of the unjust for their own profit or power,
do not expect that city to stay peaceful for long,
Hippias of Elis was born before the middle of the fifth century. He was frequently appointed to represent Elis as an ambassador and traveled widely for professional reasons as well. He was richly paid for his lessons on a variety of topics, including mnemonics, speech rhythms and harmonies, astronomy, mathematics, ethics, and history. He did original work in mathematics, and was known for a more technical approach to teaching than that of Protagoras. He visited Athens regularly, is the principal character in the two Platonic dialogues named after him, and appears also in the Protagoras. He appears to have been a supporter of the idea that nature is opposed to custom.
Hypothesis to Sophocles' Oedipus Tyrannos (DK 9)
The poets after Homer have this peculiarity: they call kings before the Trojan war “tyrants,” although this word was given to the Greeks rather late, in the time of Archilochus according to the sophist Hippias. For Homer says that Echetus – who was the most lawless of all – was a king and not a tyrant: “to Echetus the king, destroyer of men.” They say that tyrants are named after the Tyrrhenians, some of whom were terrible robbers.