Finding Unity in the Diversity: Aristotle’s Theory of Civil Harmony
The notion of civil harmony has often featured prominently in works of political philosophy, but its significance has not always been appreciated. To the ancient Greeks, peace and harmony between the various interests of society were so appreciated that they erected religious temples to the goddess Harmonia. The concept of harmony was not relegated to the mythology of Greek religion—however—for it also found classic expression in the works of the ancient political philosophers. Perhaps the most extreme example of harmony in any major work of political philosophy is found in Plato’s Republic. “Have we any greater evil for a city,” Socrates queries in that work, “than what splits it and makes it many instead of one? Or a greater good than what binds it together and makes it one?”[1] To Plato, it was unthinkable to conceive of a city that encouraged private faction and discord. To that end, he proposed that all sources of disunity, including the private family and private property, needed to be completely abolished. Plato’s theory of harmony is well-known, but it has too often been neglected that civil harmony features just as prominently in Aristotle’s political thought.
The extensive criticisms of Plato’s Republic in Aristotle’s Politics have often led superficial readers to believe that Aristotle rejected the end of harmony altogether, perhaps favoring some manner of institutionalized faction or discord. Nothing could be further from the truth. For all of his criticisms of Plato, Aristotle never rebuffs his teacher’s desire for harmony. In the Nicomachean Ethics, he elucidated that civil harmony is the political application of friendship: “Friendship also seems to be the bond that holds communities together, and lawgivers seem to attach more importance to it than justice; because concord seems to be something like friendship, and concord is their primary object—that and eliminating faction, which is enmity.”[2] Just as a true friendship between individuals involves mutual affection and a common aim for a life of moral virtue, harmony between the different parts of the city would unify disparate parts—such as households, classes, interests, etc.—in a shared pursuit of the good life. Understood in this light, it is clear why Aristotle criticized Plato. By abolishing the parts of the city, Plato did not harmonize the interests at all but, rather, destroyed them. Abolishing property and the family, Aristotle chided his teacher, would lead to resentment, not harmony: “It is precisely those who possess things in common and share whom we see most at odds, not those who hold their property separately.”[3]
Aristotle’s doctrine of civil harmony demands renewed attention because it reveals the fundamental unity of his Politics. Critical scholars have alleged that the organization of Aristotle’s Politics is confused and even unintelligible.[4] Such critics often point to Books IV and VII as evidence of Aristotle’s supposed inconsistency. Book IV provides a grounded and realistic theory of the best regime, which balances different class interests through constitutional government and the encouragement of a strong middle class. Book VII, seemingly in contrast, emphasizes the lofty and idealistic goal of virtuous government. This essay, in contrast, suggests that the discrepancy between the two Books is not anywhere near as significant as has often been imagined. Instead, the two Books should be perceived as complementary and as unified in their common purpose of vindicating the doctrine of civil harmony. Book IV teaches that harmony protects the security of the city, whereas Book VII presents the final goal of civil harmony—virtuous self-government.
Book IV and Constitutional Government
At the onset of Book IV, Aristotle lays the foundation for his doctrine of civil harmony by expressing his belief in the classical theory of the best regime. “With regard to the regime,” he stated, “it belongs to the same science to study what the best regime is, and what quality it should have to be what one would pray for above all, with external things providing no impediment.”[5] For Aristotle as much as Plato, political legislators abscond their duties if they abandon the good life and aim only to manage the effectual truths of self-interest, ambition, and vice. Yet, it would be a grave mistake to assume that Aristotle’s teaching is wholly derivative of Plato’s. While Aristotle certainly believes that it is important to aim for the best regime, he cautions against Plato’s tendency towards utopianism and abstractionism. Alluding to his teacher, Aristotle writes that “many of those who have expressed views concerning the regime, even if what they say is fine in other respects, are in error when it comes to what is useful.”[6] Plato failed to acknowledge the need to study “not only the best regime, but also the regime that is the best possible.”[7] For the statesman to pursue the aim of civil harmony, he must aim for the best regime, but he must also recognize the limitations of his particular circumstances.
Because Aristotle recognizes that concrete realities often circumscribe political action, he rejects a universalistic approach to legislation. “Neither the one that is superior nor the one that is best that circumstances allow,” he declares, “should be overlooked by the good legislator and the political ruler in the true sense.”[8] Statesmanship, rightly understood, builds laws that conduce to the particular mannerisms and habits of the people without losing sight of the end of justice. The reason for the extensive variation in the laws, mores, and habits of the different regimes is that “there are a number of parts in any city.”[9] While all cities are composed of households, some will be poor, others wealthy, and still others middling. And, in addition to the class differences, regimes may value different pursuits, such as “farming, marketing, and working.”[10] The makeup of the city and the parts that its laws emphasize express something profound about the city’s view of justice. For Aristotle, in contrast to the modern theory of the state, a regime is not simply an artificial legal arrangement that citizens pledge fealty to out of fear or self-interest. A regime—be it a monarchy, oligarchy, democracy, or something else entirely—possesses its own distinctive view about the nature of justice and it inevitably produces citizens of a unique character. “A regime is the way of life of a city,” he insists, so it must be remembered that “there is a character that is proper to each sort of regime.”[11] The citizen of a democracy will carry himself differently than the citizen of a monarchy, for example, because a regime instills certain habits of character into the people.
Two of the most important regime types that Book IV explores include oligarchy and democracy. These two regimes embody the political conflict that exists between the rich, who dominate oligarchies, and the poor, who rule the democracies. Yet, it is not only class or economic interests that drive them towards conflict, but a more fundamental disagreement about the nature of justice. Democrats, Aristotle clarified, define justice as equality for all, while oligarchs define it as inequality for all.[12] Aristotle complains that the democrats fail to see that justice only demands equality if the people are themselves equals, whereas the oligarchs make precisely the opposite error. Both of these regimes represent “deviations from the well-blended harmony as well as from the best regime.”[13] Concomitantly, the claims to rule on the part of the rich and the poor alike are serious, possess measures of truth, and cannot be ignored. “All fasten on a certain sort of justice,” Aristotle explains, “but proceed only to a certain point, and do not speak of the whole of justice in its authoritative sense.”[14] Having established that the conflict between the oligarchs and the democrats represents a fundamental issue for politics to resolve, Aristotle seeks to harmonize their interests throughout Book IV.
Aristotle recognizes that “oligarchy” and “democracy” are often protean and ambiguous terms. Therefore, he defines them very precisely: “Democracy exists when the free and poor, being a majority, have authority to rule; oligarchy, when the wealthy and better born have authority and are few.”[15] He qualifies this definition, however, by noting that democracy cannot simply be reduced to majority rule, nor oligarchy to minority rule. If the poor are few in number when compared to the rich, but still possess a majority share of the regime’s political power, the city would be a democracy and not an oligarchy.[16] This indicates that, for Aristotle, it is insufficient to reduce political science to majoritarian institutions. Because humans are social creatures who often associate with those who share things in common with them, class interests can easily develop. These private, class interests, in turn, can replace the citizen’s desire to promote the common good. If a numerical majority of individuals in the city are motivated exclusively by a private class interest, their favored policies will still be unjust—for they seek the advantage only of a small sector of the society and not that of the whole community. Acquiescing to this selfish spirit, oligarchs often exclude the poor from politics completely with exorbitant property assessments. Likewise, the democratic poor banish the rich and sometimes even decimate the rule of law. Aristotle believes that, unless these interests are harmonized, the regime will be torn apart by internal faction, convulsions, and discord.
To harmonize the oligarchic and democratic interests within the city, Aristotle proposes the establishment of a constitutional polity. The polity, he had claimed in Book III, was a regime in which “the multitude governs with a view to the common advantage.”[17] In Book IV, he does not abandon this vision of the polity, but refines it by noting its character as a mixed regime. “Simply speaking,” he avers, “polity is a mixture of oligarchy and democracy.”[18] The mixed polity reduces the tension in the city by providing political sway to both the democratic and the oligarchic interests. The polity would placate the democratic poor by lowering the property assessments for officeholding.[19] But, on the other hand, it would acquiesce to the demands of the oligarchs by holding elections for officeholders.[20] The end goal of this polity is to blend the oligarchic and democratic elements of the constitution so well that the ruling interest of the city cannot be easily identified: “It should be possible for the same polity to be spoken of as either a democracy or an oligarchy.”[21] Providing substantial political sway to the disparate interests within the regime will reduce the potential for the city to be torn apart by internal faction or revolution. Neither of the classes would “wish to have another regime,” so their desire to overthrow it would be dramatically reduced.[22] Harmony ensures that the rich and the poor both believe that their needs are considered, and it makes them feel that they have an important place in the regime. It is only from this harmony that the common good can be perceived, since finding that good necessarily demands that all interests—not just the interests of a powerful numerical majority—will be considered in political deliberations.
While the constitutional forms of the mixed regime can and should promote harmony within the regime, Aristotle believes that there are important limitations to them. He worries about the prospects of civil harmony in a regime that is so starkly stratified along class lines that there are only rich and poor classes. The city depends upon friendship between citizens who rule and can be ruled in turn. A huge stratification in the city between the rich and the poor, however, can undermine friendship. The rich “neither wish to be ruled nor know how to be,” so they tend towards an arrogant desire to be absolute masters of the regime.[23] The poor, on the other hand, “do not know to rule, but only how to be ruled, and then only to be ruled like a slave.”[24] A city starkly divided into classes of rich elites and poor mobs, then, will necessarily reduce the friendship, harmony, and—indeed—the liberty of any given city. It would not be a city of “free persons,” but one of “slaves and masters, the ones consumed by envy, the others by contempt.”[25] The perpetual resentment between the two factions would ensure that the social bond within the community necessarily collapses. “Nothing is further removed from affection and from a political community,” Aristotle emphasizes, “for community involves the element of affection—enemies do not wish to have even a journey in common.”[26]
The perilous weaknesses of the rich and the poor classes must be counteracted, Aristotle believes, by the moderating presence of a vibrant middle class. “The middling sort of life is best,” he declares, for it is “the mean that is capable of being attained by each sort of individual.”[27] In contrast to the rich and the poor, who prefer to be either masters or slaves, the middling class possesses an instinctive understanding of citizenship. It is “more capable of being well governed” than any other group.[28] Middle-class citizens possess “sufficient property,” so they possess a stake in the survival of the regime.[29] They do not, however, have so much that they are prone to lavish behavior or excess, nor are they so deprived that they lack the means of self-sufficiency. Even more fundamentally, a middle-class city will be more homogeneous and less prone to the corrosive effects of faction. The “middling sort,” Aristotle declares, is “alone without factional conflict… where the middling element is numerous, factional conflicts and splits over the regime occur least of all.”[30] Cities composed mostly of wealthy elites and poor mobs will not be one city, but “two cities in one.”[31] Aristotle concludes that the middle-class regime, by avoiding the excesses of both the rich oligarchy and the poor democracy, is deeply conducive to the harmony and concord that a city depends upon to survive.
Book VII and the Best Regime
Book IV of the Politics provides a constitutional structure that conciliates interests, stabilizes the regime, and, most importantly, cultivates a spirit of friendship and harmony within the city. It does not—however—deal with the most abstract questions about the best regime, even though it clearly endorses the idea in the opening. It is left to Book VII to provide the details about the loftier ideals of the best regime. Nevertheless, despite the fact that Aristotle moves to a more idealistic vantage point in Book VII, the presence of civil harmony is still undeniable. Book VII teaches that the harmonious regime is not simply good because it ensures that the regime will be stable and protected from internal convulsions. To be certain, it will do that. There is a more primary reason to seek harmony, however. The harmonious city is a community held together by deeper sentiments than those of force or self-interest. It is a community of friends, held together in a bond of trust, friendship and intimacy, not simply by a common fealty to a shared sovereign. This harmonious community of friends makes it possible to achieve the highest aim of life—human happiness.
Aristotle believes that the happy life is the most “choiceworthy way of life” for all individuals, and he elucidates that happiness is impossible without moral virtue.[32] “No one would assert that a person is blessed,” he maintains, “who has no part of courage, moderation, justice, or prudence.”[33] Many people, he notes, suppose that the happy life is simply the life of vulgar self-indulgence. They believe that “wealth, goods, power, [and] reputation” can simply be sought “without limit.”[34] To Aristotle, this could not be more erroneous. External goods are indeed goods, but they cannot be pursued as ends in themselves. They are rightfully understood as means to the end of moral virtue: “It is for the sake of the soul that these things are naturally choice-worthy and that all sensible persons should choose them, and not the soul for the sake of them.”[35] By prioritizing fleshly pleasures over the higher end of moral virtue, licentious hedonists utterly repudiate the conditions of human flourishing. “The soul,” Aristotle emphasizes, “is more honorable than both property and the body.”[36] External goods cannot be the primary cause of human happiness because they too often come about from “chance and fortune.”[37] The goods of the soul, more permanent and lasting in their character, are the only foundation for an individual’s happiness.
By reiterating his principle of eudaemonia in the Politics, Aristotle indicates that there is an intimate relationship between his understanding of individual morality, civil harmony, and the best regime. He rejects the idea, characteristic of modern liberalism, that the morality of an individual can be conceived in radical isolation from the political community.[38] Because man is by nature a political animal, the disordered individual soul necessarily translates into a disordered political community. It is impossible to separate private and public ends: “The best way of life both separately for each individual and in common for cities is that accompanied by virtue.”[39] The best regime is not, therefore, the regime that establishes the most effective procedural rules to protect property rights and private security, while taking a blind eye towards individual moral conduct. The best regime is that which “is happy and acts finely.”[40] Additionally, the best regime must be “that arrangement under which anyone might act in the best manner and live blessedly.”[41] The happiness of a single individual and the happiness of a political society both consist of the life of moral excellence. It is unequivocal, then, that Aristotle defends civil harmony not merely because it secures lives and properties, but because it provides the conditions to cultivate moral virtue in the souls of citizens.
Because individual happiness and public happiness possess such an intimate connection, Aristotle believes that civil harmony requires active engagement in politics. Should a member of the community disassociate himself from the affairs of his regime, it indicates something fundamentally deficient about his character. For Aristotle, citizenship demands more than just casting a vote to provide the state with an air of legitimacy. True citizens see fellow members of their community as friends, and they desire what is best for them. “To praise inactivity more than activity is also not true,” Aristotle clarifies, for “happiness is a sort of action, and the actions of just and moderate persons bring to completion many noble things.”[42] He thus returns to the debate between the active life and the contemplative life that he had established in the Nicomachean Ethics.[43] In Book VII of the Politics, he does not renege on his commitment to the contemplative life. He qualifies it, however, by noting that even the contemplative life of the philosopher is politically active in important respects: “The active way of life is not necessarily in relation to others, as some suppose, nor those thoughts alone active that arise from activity for the sake of what results, but rather much more those that are complete in themselves, and the sorts of studies and thoughts that are for their own sake.”[44] Even the philosopher is a part of the city, and he will possess a unique set of obligations to his community. The harmonious city does not, as for Socrates, divorce the philosopher from the community. Rather, it would recognize the philosopher as a part and involve him in the city’s “shared activities.”[45]
The active life does much to foster the conditions for civil harmony, but Aristotle believes that other chance conditions must also be considered. Factors such as the size of the territory will also need to be accommodated to produce harmony within the city. Aristotle wonders how citizens can know each other intimately as friends when they are separated by vast distances. “Now most persons suppose,” he writes, “that it is appropriate for the happy city to be great. If this is true, they are ignorant of what sort of city is great and what sort small.”[46] Aristotle concedes that a vast, continental nation may indeed produce more wealth, resources, and population growth than a small city-state. But he insists that the toll such an empire exacts on the affection between citizens is too great to risk. Aristotle explains that “with a view both to judgment concerning the just things and distributing offices on the basis of merit, the citizens must necessarily be familiar with one another’s qualities.”[47] Politics in large states will necessarily be conducted haphazardly, for the citizens lack an intimate connection to each other and do not possess any incentive to wisely deliberate about the common good. For legislators to cultivate harmony in the regime, they must concern themselves with the territory of the city and prevent it from expanding.
It is not merely the extent of the territory in the city that features decisively in Aristotle’s theory of civil harmony, but also its geography. Even seemingly innocuous features, such as the city’s proximity to the sea, will dramatically impact the characteristics of the city. “Concerning access to the sea,” Aristotle explains, “there is much dispute as to whether it is beneficial or harmful for well-governed cities.”[48] The crucial problem with placing a city near a seaport is that it will encourage an influx of foreigners and tempt the city to become overly commercial.[49] Aristotle explains that “as a result of their use of the sea for exporting and importing, a multitude of traders comes into existence, and this is contrary to their engaging in politics in a fine manner.”[50] While Aristotle recognizes the dangers of over-reliance on imported goods, he believes that self-sufficiency should be the end of trade—not revenue. He understands that there should be some limited commercial exchange, but he also recognizes the threat it poses to harmony.
Aristotle seeks to harmonize the commercial interests of the city with other interests by carefully considering the lands that legislators make available for private use. “Of the territory that belongs to private individuals,” Aristotle argues, “one part should be toward the frontiers, the other toward the city, so that, with two allotments assigned to each individual, all partake in both locations.”[51] This system, Aristotle believes, will provide for greater “equality and justice,” but, even more importantly, “for a greater concord with a view to wars with their neighbors.”[52] By placing land for private use between the commercial portions of the city and the other towards the rural portions, Aristotle believes that citizens from both sides will be able to come into contact with each other. By interacting with each other, a spirit of friendship will be developed between residents of the city and residents of the country. They will not be in a state of permanent “enmity towards” each other but will come to appreciate each side’s unique contributions to the regime.[53] Aristotle thus recognizes the impact of geography on the character of the citizens, and he admonishes legislators to unite disparate types of citizens. By bringing urban and rural citizens into contact with each other, Aristotle believes that their interests can be harmonized and that affection between them can be fostered.
A final element that Aristotle considers critical in fostering a spirit of friendship in the city is moral education. “A city is excellent, at any rate,” he emphasizes, “through its citizens… being excellent.”[54] Chance circumstances, such as territory and geography, need to be accounted for by legislators. But it is moral education, above all else, that connects people to their city. The citizens, Aristotle writes, “should act to achieve necessary and useful things, but noble things more so. So it is with a view to these aims that they must be educated when still children as well as during the other ages that require education.”[55] If a regime considers only utilitarian ends and disregards the need to educate citizens in moral virtue, then it will inevitably collapse. “The same things are best for men both privately and in common,” Aristotle insists, so it is necessary for the legislator to “implant these in the souls of human beings.”[56] Education is not, for Aristotle, simply about receiving enough facts to succeed in a commercial marketplace. It is about ordering the soul in such a way that habits and appetites can be subordinated to reason.[57] Education harmonizes the competing inclinations within the individual soul, and it is harmony in the soul that makes possible civil harmony. The city is the individual soul writ large.
While Aristotle believes that the political community will feature prominently in each citizen’s moral education, he is no less interested in the education provided by the family. The legislator must be interested in promoting healthy families, for all education begins in the home. “The legislator,” he writes, “should see to it from the beginning that bodies of those being revered are to become the best possible.”[58] The seemingly private sphere of the family is the training ground of civil harmony at the political level. Therefore, Aristotle favors political interventions to cultivate a spirit of harmony in the family. “One should legislate,” he writes, “with respect to this community with a view to the partners themselves and the length of time of their lives together, in order that they arrive together in terms of their ages at the same juncture and their capacities not be dissonant.”[59] Aristotle fears that, should males and females start families when one or both partners have lost their capacity to bear children, “conflicts and differences” could be sown between the husband and wife.[60] Resentment and discord are just as unacceptable in the family as they are in the political community. To reduce friction in the family, he favors regulations of marriages and strict prohibitions of marriages at certain ages.[61] The legislator must promote harmony in the family if he truly cares about harmony in the political community.
Conclusion
“The city,” Aristotle writes, “is a community of similar persons, for the sake of a life that is the best possible.”[62] Perhaps it would be impossible to find a more concise statement of Aristotle’s vision of civil harmony anywhere in the Politics. Notwithstanding the frequent assertion that Books IV and VII of the Politics possess highly disparate accounts of the best regime, it is doubtless the case that the basic current of harmony runs throughout both books. Book IV explains the relationship between civil harmony and the practical problems that legislators often face. While Aristotle does not abandon the theory of the best regime, he nonetheless distances himself from utopianism and shows the legislators must consider the variation of parts within the city. The oligarchic rich and the democratic poor are two such parts that the city must contend with. Aristotle attempts to harmonize their interests by devising the constitutional structure of the mixed regime. Yet, even with that structure, he still emphasizes the necessity of a vibrant middle class to encourage moderation and to reduce factional conflict between the rich and the poor. Book IV demonstrates that the legislator should aim for the harmony of interests in the city, and not simply attempt to institutionalize faction for the end of security.
While Book IV offers the constitutional mechanisms that provide for harmony, Book VII portrays the best regime in its most vivid light. Harmony not only secures the welfare of the regime, but it also—more primarily—makes it possible for citizens to live virtuously and happily. Because man is by nature a political animal, friendship and affection are necessary for man to fulfill his potential. It is impossible to be concerned for the individual soul’s flourishing without also promoting the flourishing of the community. Active involvement in the political community ensures that the citizens are held together by bonds of intimacy and companionship. Additionally, notwithstanding Aristotle’s interest in high ideals throughout Book VII, he never retreats from his concern for particulars. He discusses the pressing necessity for statesmen to consider the territory and geography of the country when they lay down laws. These factors impact the character of the citizenry and can cause faction if unaccounted for. And, even more primarily, the statesman must fulfill his obligation to educate citizens in moral principles for his regime to survive. Harmony in the city begins with harmony in the soul. While Book VII initially appears to be in tension with Book IV, there is a fundamental harmony between the two books. Given the profound appreciation that Aristotle shows for the political philosophy of civil harmony, it should be utterly unsurprising that it also characterizes his writings.
References
Aristotle. Politics. Translated by Carnes Lord. 2nd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago, 2013.
Aristotle. The Nicomachean Ethics. Translated by J.A.K. Thompson. London: Penguin Books, 2004.
Finley, Moses I. Politics of the Ancient Greek World. Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1983.
Kant, Immanuel. Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone. Translated by Theodore M. Greene and Hoyt H. Hudson. New York: Harper & Row, 1960).
Plato. The Republic of Plato. Translated by Allan Bloom. New York: Basic Books, 1991.
Notes
[1] Plato, The Republic of Plato, trans. Allan Bloom (New York: Basic Books, 1991), 141, 462a.
[2] Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, trans. J.A.K. Thompson (London: Penguin Books, 2004), 201, 1155a.
[3] Aristotle, Politics, 2nd ed., trans. Caries Lord (Chicago: University of Chicago, 2013), 32, 1263b.
[4] Moses I. Finley, Politics of the Ancient Greek World (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1983), 124. Finley expressed his severe disapproval of the “disorganized, digressive, incomplete, and, at times, incoherent and inconsistent” character of Aristotle’s Politics.
[5] Aristotle, Politics, 97, 1288b.
[7] Ibid., 98, 1288b.
[8] Ibid., 97, 1288b.
[9] Ibid., 100. 1289b.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Ibid., 114, 1295a; 223, 1337a.
[12] Ibid., 75, 1280a.
[13] Ibid., 101, 1290a.
[14] Ibid., 75, 1280a.
[15] Ibid., 102-103, 1290b.
[19] Ibid., 113, 1294b.
[20] Ibid.
[21] Ibid.
[22] Ibid., 113, 1294b.
[23] Ibid., 115, 1295b.
[24] Ibid.
[25] Ibid.
[26] Ibid.
[27] Ibid., 114, 1295a.
[28] Ibid., 115, 1295b.
[29] Ibid., 115-116, 1296a.
[31] Ibid., 33, 1264a. Aristotle uses this phrase in the context of his critique of the Platonic idea of the Guardians, but it is also applicable to his theory that radical inequalities in a city will lead to radical faction.
[34] Ibid., 188, 1323a.
[35] Ibid., 188, 1323b.
[36] Ibid.
[37] Ibid., 188, 1323b.
[38] Immanuel Kant presents a classic attack on Aristotle’s idea of legislating morality: “Woe to the legislator who wishes to establish through force a polity directed to ethical ends! For in so doing he would not merely achieve the very opposite of an ethical polity but also undermine his political state and make it insecure.” Kant, Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone, trans. Theodore M. Greene and Hoyt H. Hudson (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), 87.
[39] Ibid., 189, 1323b.
[40] Ibid., 189, 1323b.
[41] Ibid., 190, 1324a.
[42] Ibid., 192, 1325a.
[43] Aristotle, Ethics, 270-276, 1177a-1179a.
[44] Aristotle, Politics, 193, 1325b.
[45] Ibid,
[48] Ibid., 197, 1327a.
[49] Ibid.
[52] Ibid.
[53] Ibid.
[54] Ibid., 210, 1332a.
[55] Ibid., 213, 1333b.
[56] Ibid., 214, 1333b.
[57] Ibid., 216, 1334b.
[58] Ibid.
[60] Ibid.
[61] Ibid., 218-219,1335b.
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