Some of the perplexities of language which beset the infancy of philosophy are the use of a generic term in its specific sense, or of a neutral term in a good sense and conversely, or the necessity of attributing to the same word a passive, active, and neuter sense. In the discussion which follows, the term oλireía is used of states in general and also of the state par excellence which, according to Aristotle, is the true form of a constitution. So in English the terms constitution' and 'constitutional' are used without a qualifying epithet to signify a moderate form of constitution. And in the Nicomachean Ethics, the want of a more copious vocabulary compels Aristotle in like manner to employ the word dikaιoσúvŋ in two or perhaps three senses for justice, honesty, and also for righteousness. The use of the term 'justice' applied to the performance of a right or to the punishment of a wrong action affords an instance of the perverse influence which cognate or paronymous words are liable to exercise upon thought. (Cp. N. E. v. 9. § 2.) The various meanings of words are generally settled by custom, and their use in each particular case determined by the context. But to the contemporaries of Aristotle the multiplicity in the meaning of words was often a source of fallacy and confusion which required to be cleared up.

The imperfection of logic in the time of Aristotle is likewise illustrated by the discussion of the question, What constitutes a state? To which the political philosopher, after rejecting the explanation of sameness of place or race, replies 'sameness of government.' But surely the sameness of a state consists in many things, and is consistent with many changes of government as well as of race or place. No one would deny that England and Sweden are the same nations or countries which existed 800 years ago; about France, Italy, Germany, or Poland, the answer would be more doubtful. The elements which constitute national identity may perhaps be reckoned in the following order, sameness of race, sameness of language, sameness of place, sameness of religion, sameness of government, sameness of character. But we must remember that the idea of sameness is relative, and in reality can never be equally applicable to the state and to the individual.

An analogous question not unconsidered by Aristotle has often

been raised in modern times, Where in case of a revolution does lawful authority reside? To which we may reply that what is ordinarily a difference in kind has become a difference of degree, and that in a state of change we must not expect either to have an unchanging authority, or to pass by a jump from one government to another. Or we may say that society is being resolved into its elements, and that for a short time the sacredness of authority is overpowered by force. Or, that to whichever side in the conflict power distinctly inclines, there authority begins to exist. Such difficulties were answered in English writers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries by asserting a divine and unchangeable right of kings or of government and a corresponding duty of passive obedience; or on the other hand by an imaginary compact which, according to Hobbes, was made once for all in the beginning of society and was therefore unchangeable, but according to Locke and others, might at any time be altered or reversed. Such a compact was a convenient figure of speech adapted to the understanding and wants of the age, just as the divine right of kings was once a convenient symbol of the sacredness of authority.

In the writings of Aristotle incongruous notions are often brought together by the accident of a common word. The rule of a king or statesman has to be distinguished from the rule of a master over his slaves. The position of the artisan, who has already caused us a good deal of trouble, is generally assumed to be outside the pale of political society. Yet we are surprised to find that there are some oligarchies, in which even the artisan, if he acquires property, may become a member of the state. And we end where we might have begun, with what to us appears to be rather a commonplace conclusion, that under different forms of government there are various kinds of citizens.

The question whether democracy and oligarchy derive their character respectively from wealth and poverty or from the fewness and multitude of the citizens, would hardly have occurred to a modern political writer. The majority, as at Colophon, or to take modern instances, in Australia or America, may be well-to-do, the poor may be a minority. Yet such a state will be a democracy, for every citizen equally shares in the government. But it might

be argued that even in a Greek Republic, as in the United States, the real character of democracy would be greatly modified by the prosperity of the people. Aristotle has stated the possible combinations of the different elements; but in this passage he has not fairly balanced them with one another. It might with equal truth be affirmed that democracy was the government of the many or of the poor, oligarchy of the few or of the rich. But it would be truer still to say that in a democracy are commonly included the many and the poor, in an oligarchy the few and the wealthy; and this is in fact Aristotle's own conclusion in the Fourth Book (c. 4. § 4), where he returns to the subject. Oligarchy and democracy may also be regarded as relative terms; and there is always a residuum of either in the other; for democracy is led by a few, and all the members of an oligarchy claim to be equal with one another. Nor can we say how strong may be the elements of conservatism which are latent in the mass of the people who are averse to many kinds of change, or how much of the revolutionary temper may lurk in ambitious members of an oligarchy who are attracted by contrast, or stimulated by private hatred or interest.

Another question is a source of still more serious perplexity to Aristotle, it had been already discussed by Plato: Should men be governed by a law or by a person? By the law which cannot take cognizance of particular cases, or by the person who can? The practice of the Athenians, whose laws were written down on square or triangular lecterns (kúpßeis) placed in the agora, and of the Lacedaemonians, who for the most part decided causes without written law by judgments of the Gerousia and the Ephors, afforded conspicuous examples of the two opposite principles. All law must have been originally unwritten, though it is probable also that in primitive times cases may have been decided by precedent. The claims both of the law and of the individual judge are asserted by Aristotle. What law can have a right to limit the actions of the perfectly just man who is a law to himself, and yet, if there is to be equality among equals, how can all the other citizens be excluded from power? To which the answer is made that he is not an equal any more than Zeus among the gods. Aristotle wavers between these two points of view which he almost

brings to an agreement; for the law must be executed by judges; and the one wise ruler will have other wise men to assist him in his judicial labours.

Throughout the Politics he is distracted between an ideal perfection and the actual conditions of human life, and often passes unconsciously from one to the other. The best state in the Seventh Book comes round to be little more than an ordinary Greek state which is placed under favourable circumstances. The aim of the state should be the highest virtue, yet virtue is also relative to the form of government; the virtue of a democracy is not the same with that of an oligarchy. Even the political virtues are not all equally required of all magistrates. In idea the one best man is to be lord and master of all; in fact he is to be ostracised. And it is intimated that there is a good deal to be said in favour of this latter mode of procedure. According to Plato in the Republic the true ruler was entrusted with power, not for his own good, but for the good of his subjects, and he distinguishes governments into true and false as they aim at the good of the governed or of the governors themselves. Aristotle in like manner lays down the principle that all true forms of government exist only for the good of the governed; all false ones for the good of the rulers. That he should have passed from the ideal to the actual, or that he should have clothed the ideal in fanciful forms, is not surprising.

We have next to consider how many and what forms of govern- c. 7. ment there are and how they differ from each other. The supreme power must always be exercised either by one, or by a few, or by many. The true forms are those which regard the common interest the perverted forms have in view only the private interests of the rulers. The rule of one is called royalty, the rule of a few, aristocracy, the rule of many, polity or constitutional government, when these forms severally aim at the good of the governed. They are called tyranny, oligarchy, democracy, when they have regard to the good of a single person or class only, of the king, of the wealthy or of the needy. The general term 'polity' is naturally applied in a specific sense, because the form of government

c. 8.

c. 9.

designated by it is the most popular and comprehensive. For few are capable of every kind of virtue, and therefore there are few royalties or aristocracies; but military virtue is found in all classes, and is shared by the many. And thus arises polity or constitutional government, in which the heavy-armed soldiers have the supreme power.

But the differences in forms of government do not depend solely on number and quantity; the element of quality must also be included. Democracy, for example, is said to be the government of the many and of the poor. But what if the many are rich? does the form of government continue to be a democracy? Oligarchy again is defined to be the government of the few and of the rich, but if the few are poor, what becomes of the definition? In any case, how shall we describe those states in which a rich majority or in which a poor minority are rulers?

We answer that the number of the governing class in oligarchy and democracy is unessential. The true characteristic of oligarchy is wealth, of democracy, poverty. But in fact the two definitions generally coincide; for the wealthy are almost always the few and the many are the poor.

Yet neither the claim of freedom nor the claim of wealth is really just for justice is the distribution of the right thing to the right person. The self-love of the oligarch or of the democrat puts relative in the place of absolute justice: the one thinks that inequality in wealth involves inequality in everything: the other that equality in freedom involves equality in everything. They both forget that the true end of the state is not wealth or freedom, but a good life. Mere life is not enough; if it were, slaves and brute animals would be citizens. Neither do community of place nor rights of intermarriage and trade constitute a state. Nor can commercial treaties or defensive alliances give a true political life; for there is no superior power which can enforce them, and the inhabitants of one state do not care about the virtues or vices of other states if only they keep faith with them. Even within the limits of a single state the prevention of crime and the promotion of trade are secondary objects. The life of virtue is the only true and sufficient end of the state. Men may live in the neighbourhood