controvertible and common
guide, we should resort to deception and the arts of persuasion, that we
may dupe others for our purposes; that there is no sin in undermining
the social contract; no crime in blasphemy, or rather there is no
blasphemy at all, since there are no gods; that "man is the measure of
all things," as Protagoras teaches, and that "he is the criterion of
existence;" that "thought is only the relation of the thinking subject
to the object thought of, and that the thinking subject, the soul, is
nothing more than the sum of the different moments of thinking." It is
no wonder that that Sophist who was the author of such doctrines should
be condemned to death to satisfy the clamours of a populace who had not
advanced sufficiently into the depths of this secondary, this higher
philosophy, and that it was only by flight that he could save himself
from the punishment awaiting the opening sentiment of his book: "Of the
gods I cannot tell whether they are or not, for much hinders us from
knowing this--both the obscurity of the subject and the shortness of
life." It is no wonder that the social demoralization spread apace, when
men like Gorgias, the disciple of Empedocles, were to be found, who
laughed at virtue, made an open derision of morality, and proved, by
metaphysical demonstration, that nothing at all exists.

[Sidenote: Political dangers of the higher analysis.]

[Sidenote: Illustrations from the Middle Ages.]

[Sidenote: Danger of intellect outgrowing formulas of faith.]

[Sidenote: Absolute necessity of preparing communities for these
changes.]

From these statements respecting the crisis at which ancient philosophy
had arrived, we might be disposed to believe that the result was
unmitigated evil, for it scarcely deserves mention that the quibbles and
disputes of the Sophists occasioned an extraordinary improvement of the
Greek language, introducing precision into its terms, and a wonderful
dialectical skill into its use. For us there may be extracted from these
melancholy conclusions at least one instructive lesson--that it is not
during the process of decomposition of philosophies, and especially of
religions, that social changes occur, for such breakings-up commonly go
on in an isolated, and therefore innocuous way; but if by chance the
fragments and decomposed portions are brought together, and attempts are
made by fusion to incorporate them anew, or to extract from them, by a
secondary analys