Oliver Goldsmith (1728–1774) moved between the genres and geographies of enlightenment writing with considerable dexterity. As a consequence he has been characterized as a passive purveyor of enlightenment thought, a hack, a harried translator of the French enlightenment for an English audience, an ideological lackey, and a subtle ironist. In poetry, he is either a compliant pastoralist or an engaged social critic. Yet Goldsmith’s career is as complex and as contradictory as the enlightenment currents across which he wrote, and there is in Goldsmith’s oeuvre a set of themes—including his opposition to the new imperialism and to glibly declared principles of liberty—which this book addresses as a manifestation of his Irishness. Michael Griffin places Goldsmith in two contexts: one is the intellectual and political culture in which he worked as a professional author living in London; the other is that of his nationality and his as yet unstudied Jacobite politics. Enlightenment in Ruins thereby reveals a body of work that is compellingly marked by tensions and transits between Irishness and Englishness, between poetic and professional imperatives, and between cultural and scientific spheres.

From later antiquity down to the close of the eighteenth century, most philosophers and men of science and, indeed, most educated men, accepted without question a traditional view of the plan and structure of the world.In this volume, which embodies the William James lectures for 1933, Arthur O. Lovejoy points out the three principles—plenitude, continuity, and graduation—which were combined in this conception; analyzes their origins in the philosophies of Plato, Aristotle, and the Neoplatonists; traces the most important of their diverse samifications in subsequent religious thought, in metaphysics, in ethics and aesthetics, and in astronomical and biological theories; and copiously illustrates the influence of the conception as a whole, and of the ideas out of which it was compounded, upon the imagination and feelings as expressed in literature.

This is arguably the seminal work in historical and philosophical analysis of the twentieth century. Originally delivered for the William James lecture series at Harvard University in 1932-33, it remains the cornerstone of the history of ideas. Lovejoy sees philosophy's history as one of confusion of ideas, a prime example of which is the idea of a "great chain of being"--a universe linked in theology, science and values by pre-determined stages in all phases of life. Lovejoy's view is one of dualities in nature and society, with both error and truth as part of the natural order of things. The past reminds us that the ruling modes of thought of our own age, which we may view as clear, coherent and firmly grounded, are unlikely to be seen with such certainty by posterity. The Great Chain of Being is an excursion into the past, with a clear mission--to discourage the assumption that all is known, or that what is known is not subject to modifi cation at a later time. Lovejoy reaffirms the "intrinsic worth of diversity," as a caution against certitude. By this he does not mean toleration of indiff erence, or relativity for its own sake, but an appreciation of mental and physical process of human beings. As Peter Stanlis notes in his introduction: "Faith in the great chain of being was fi nally largely extinguished by the combined infl uences of Romantic idealism, Darwin's theory of evolution, and Einstein's theory of relativity." Few books remain as alive to prospects for the future by reconsidering follies of the past as does Lovejoy's stunning work.