------------------------------------------------------------------------

                          Transcriber’s Note:

This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. The single
instance of a superscript is given as ‘Z^5’.

In the original text, footnote references were numbered, beginning with
‘1’ on each page. They have been renumbered consecutively for uniqueness
and have been moved to follow the paragraphs in which they are
referenced. References to notes in the index and elsewhere have been
changed to reflect the revised numbers.

Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.




                                 EARLY
                            GREEK PHILOSOPHY

                                   BY

                        JOHN BURNET, M.A., LL.D.

        PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNITED COLLEGE OF ST. SALVATOR
                      AND ST. LEONARD, ST. ANDREWS

     Περὶ μὲν τῶν ὄντων τὴν ἀλήθειαν ἐσκόπουν, τὰ δ’ ὄντα ὑπέλαβον
                   εἶναι τὰ αἰσθητὰ μόνον.—ARISTOTLE.




                            _SECOND EDITION_




                                 LONDON

                         ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK

                                  1908




                 _First Edition published April 1892._




                     PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION


It has been no easy task to revise this volume in such a way as to make
it more worthy of the favour with which it has been received. Most of it
has had to be rewritten in the light of certain discoveries made since
the publication of the first edition, above all, that of the extracts
from Menon’s Ἰατρικά, which have furnished, as I believe, a clue to the
history of Pythagoreanism. I trust that all other obligations are duly
acknowledged in the proper place.

It did not seem worth while to eliminate all traces of a certain
youthful assurance which marked the first edition. I should not write
now as I wrote at the age of twenty-five; but I still feel that the main
contentions of the book were sound, so I have not tried to amend the
style. The references to Zeller and “Ritter and Preller” are adapted
throughout to the latest editions. The Aristotelian commentators are
referred to by the pages and verses of the Berlin Academy edition, and
Stobaeus by those of Wachsmuth.

                                                               J. B.

ST. ANDREWS, 1908.




                      PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION


No apology is needed for the appearance of a work dealing with Early
Greek Philosophy. The want of one has long been felt; for there are few
branches of philology in which more progress has been made in the last
twenty years, and the results of that progress have not yet been made
accessible to the English reader. My original intention was simply to
report these results; but I soon found that I was obliged to dissent
from some of them, and it seemed best to say so distinctly. Very likely
I am wrong in most of these cases, but my mistakes may be of use in
calling attention to unobserved points. In any case, I hope no one will
think I have been wanting in the respect due to the great authority of
Zeller, who was the first to recall the history of philosophy from the
extravagances into which it had wandered earlier in the century. I am
glad to find that all my divergences from his account have only led me a
little further in the path that he struck out.

I am very sensible of the imperfect execution of some parts of this
work; but the subject has become so large, and the number of authorities
whose testimony must be weighed is so great, that it is not easy for any
one writer to be equally at home in all parts of the field.

I have consulted the student’s convenience by giving references to the
seventh edition of Ritter and Preller (ed. Schultess) throughout. The
references to Zeller are to the fourth German edition, from which the
English translation was made. I have been able to make some use also of
the recently published fifth edition (1892), and all references to it
are distinguished by the symbol Z^5. I can only wish that it had
appeared in time for me to incorporate its results more thoroughly.

I have to thank many friends for advice and suggestions, and, above all,
Mr. Harold H. Joachim, Fellow of Merton College, who read most of the
work before it went to press.

                                                               J. B.

OXFORD, 1892.




                                CONTENTS


                                                                   PAGES

 INTRODUCTION                                                       1-35


                                CHAPTER I
 THE MILESIAN SCHOOL                                               37-84


                               CHAPTER II
 SCIENCE AND RELIGION                                             85-142


                               CHAPTER III
 HERAKLEITOS OF EPHESOS                                          143-191

                               CHAPTER IV
 PARMENIDES OF ELEA                                              192-226

                                CHAPTER V
 EMPEDOKLES OF AKRAGAS                                           227-289

                               CHAPTER VI
 ANAXAGORAS OF KLAZOMENAI                                        290-318

                               CHAPTER VII
 THE PYTHAGOREANS                                                319-356

                              CHAPTER VIII
 THE YOUNGER ELEATICS                                            357-379

                               CHAPTER IX
 LEUKIPPOS OF MILETOS                                            380-404

                                CHAPTER X
 ECLECTICISM AND REACTION                                        405-418

                                APPENDIX
 THE SOURCES                                                     419-426

 INDEX                                                           427-433




                             ABBREVIATIONS


 _Arch._              _Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie._ Berlin,
                        1888-1908.

 BEARE.               _Greek Theories of Elementary Cognition_, by John
                        I. Beare. Oxford, 1906.

 DIELS _Dox._         _Doxographi graeci._ Hermannus Diels. Berlin,
                        1879.

 DIELS _Vors._        _Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker_, von Hermann
                        Diels, Zweite Auflage, Erster Band. Berlin,
                        1906.

 GOMPERZ.             _Greek Thinkers_, by Theodor Gomperz, Authorised
                        (English) Edition, vol. i. London, 1901.

 JACOBY.              _Apollodors Chronik_, von Felix Jacoby (_Philol.
                        Unters._ Heft xvi.). Berlin, 1902.

 R. P.                _Historia Philosophiae Graecae_, H. Ritter et L.
                        Preller. Editio octava, quam curavit Eduardus
                        Wellmann. Gotha, 1898.

 ZELLER.              _Die Philosophie der Griechen, dargestellt von Dr.
                        Eduard Zeller._ Erster Theil, Fünfte Auflage.
                        Leipzig, 1892.




                         EARLY GREEK PHILOSOPHY




                              INTRODUCTION

[Sidenote: The cosmological character of early Greek philosophy.]

I. It was not till the primitive view of the world and the customary
rules of life had broken down, that the Greeks, began to feel the needs
which philosophies of nature and of conduct seek to satisfy. Nor were
those needs felt all at once. The traditional maxims of conduct were not
seriously questioned till the old view of nature had passed away; and,
for this reason, the earliest philosophers busied themselves mainly with
speculations about the world around them. In due season, Logic was
called into being to meet a fresh want. The pursuit of cosmological
inquiry beyond a certain point inevitably brought to light a wide
divergence between science and common sense, which was itself a problem
that demanded solution, and moreover constrained philosophers to study
the means of defending their paradoxes against the prejudices of the
unscientific many. Later still, the prevailing interest in logical
matters raised the question of the origin and validity of knowledge;
while, about the same time, the breakdown of traditional morality gave
rise to Ethics. The period which precedes the rise of Logic and Ethics
has thus a distinctive character of its own, and may fitly be treated
apart.[1]

Footnote 1:

  It will be observed that Demokritos falls outside the period thus
  limited. The common practice of treating this younger contemporary of
  Sokrates along with the “pre-Socratic philosophers” obscures the true
  course of historical development. Demokritos comes after Protagoras,
  and his theory is already conditioned by the epistemological problem.
  (See Brochard, “Protagoras et Démocrite,” _Arch._ ii. p. 368.) He has
  also a regular theory of conduct (E. Meyer, _Gesch. des Alterth._ iv.
  § 514 n.).

[Sidenote: The primitive view of the world.]

II. Even in the earliest times of which we have any record, the
primitive view of the world is fast passing away. We are left to gather
what manner of thing it was from the stray glimpses we get of it here
and there in the older literature, to which it forms a sort of sombre
background, and from the many strange myths and stranger rites that
lived on, as if to bear witness of it to later times, not only in
out-of-the-way parts of Hellas, but even in the “mysteries” of the more
cultivated states. So far as we can see, it must have been essentially a
thing of shreds and patches, ready to fall in pieces as soon as stirred
by the fresh breeze of a larger experience and a more fearless
curiosity. The only explanation of the world it could offer was a wild
tale of the origin of things. Such a story as that of Ouranos, Gaia, and
Kronos belongs plainly, as Mr. Lang has shown in _Custom and Myth_, to
the same level of thought as the Maori tale of Papa and Rangi; while in
its details the Greek myth is, if anything, the more savage of the two.

We must not allow ourselves to be misled by metaphors about “the
childhood of the race,” though even these, if properly understood, are
suggestive enough. Our ideas of the true state of a child’s mind are apt
to be coloured by that theory of antenatal existence which has found,
perhaps, its highest expression in Wordsworth’s _Ode on the Intimations
of Immortality_. We transfer these ideas to the race generally, and are
thus led to think of the men who made and repeated myths as simple,
innocent creatures who were somehow nearer than we are to the beginning
of things, and so, perhaps, saw with a clearer vision. A truer view of
what a child’s thoughts really are will help to put us on the right
track. Left to themselves, children are often tormented by vague terrors
of surrounding objects which they fear to confide to any one. Their
games are based upon an animistic theory of things, and they are great
believers in luck and in the lot. They are devotees, too, of that “cult
of odds and ends” which is fetishism; and the unsightly old dolls which
they often cherish more fondly than the choicest products of the
toy-shop, remind us forcibly of the ungainly stocks and stones which
Pausanias found in the Holy of Holies of many a stately Greek temple. At
Sparta the Tyndaridai were a couple of boards, while the old image of
Hera at Samos was a roughly-hewn log.[2]

Footnote 2:

  See E. Meyer, _Gesch. des Alterth._ ii. § 64; Menzies, _History of
  Religion_, pp. 272-276.

On the other hand, we must remember that, even in the earliest times of
which we have any record, the world was already very old. Those Greeks
who first tried to understand nature were not at all in the position of
men setting out on a hitherto untrodden path. There was already in the
field a tolerably consistent view of the world, though no doubt it was
rather implied and assumed in ritual and myth than distinctly realised
as such. The early thinkers did a far greater thing than merely to make
a beginning. By turning their backs on the savage view of things, they
renewed their youth, and with it, as it proved, the youth of the world,
at a time when the world seemed in its dotage.

The marvel is that they were able to do this so thoroughly as they did.
A savage myth might be preserved here and there to the scandal of
philosophers; fetishes, totems, and magic rites might lurk in holes and
corners with the moles and with the bats, to be unearthed long
afterwards by the curious in such matters. But the all-pervading
superstition, which we call primitive because we know not how or whence
it came, was gone for ever; and we find Herodotos noting with unfeigned
surprise the existence among “barbarians” of beliefs and customs which,
not so long ago, his own forefathers had taught and practised quite as
zealously as ever did Libyan or Scyth. Even then, he might have found
most of them surviving on the “high places” of Hellas.

[Sidenote: Traces of the primitive view in early literature.]

III. In one respect the way had been prepared already. Long before
history begins, the colonisation of the islands and the coasts of Asia
Minor had brought about a state of things that was not favourable to the
rigid maintenance of traditional customs and ways of thought. A myth is
essentially a local thing, and though the emigrants might give the names
of ancestral sanctuaries to similar spots in their new homes, they could
not transfer with the names the old sentiment of awe. Besides, these
were, on the whole, stirring and joyful times. The spirit of adventure
is not favourable to superstition, and men whose chief occupation is
fighting are not apt to be oppressed by that “fear of the world” which
some tell us is the normal state of the savage mind. Even the savage
becomes in great measure free from it when he is really happy.

[Sidenote: 1. Homer.]

That is why we find so few traces of the primitive view of the world in
Homer. The gods have become frankly human, and everything savage is, so
far as may be, kept out of sight. There are, of course, vestiges of
early beliefs and practices, but they are exceptional. In that strange
episode of the Fourteenth Book of the _Iliad_ known as _The Deceiving of
Zeus_ we find a number of theogonical ideas which are otherwise quite
foreign to Homer, but they are treated with so little seriousness that
the whole thing has even been regarded as a parody or burlesque of some
primitive poem on the birth of the gods. That, however, is to mistake
the spirit of Homer. He finds the old myth ready to his hand, and sees
in it matter for a “joyous tale,” just as Demodokos did in the loves of
Ares and Aphrodite. There is no antagonism to traditional views, but
rather a complete detachment from them.

It has often been noted that Homer never speaks of the primitive custom
of purification for bloodshed. The dead heroes are burned, not buried,
as the kings of continental Hellas were. Ghosts play hardly any part. In
the _Iliad_ we have, to be sure, the ghost of Patroklos, in close
connexion with the solitary instance of human sacrifice in Homer. All
that was part of the traditional story, and Homer says as little about
it as he can. There is also the _Nekyia_ in the Eleventh Book of the
_Odyssey_, which has been assigned to a late date on the ground that it
contains Orphic ideas. The reasoning does not appear cogent. As we shall
see, the Orphics did not so much invent new ideas as revive old ones,
and if the legend took Odysseus to the abode of the dead, that had to be
described in accordance with the accepted views about it.

In fact, we are never entitled to infer from Homer’s silence that the
primitive view was unknown to him. The absence of certain things from
the poems is due to reticence rather than ignorance; for, wherever
anything to his purpose was to be got from an old story, he did not
hesitate to use it. On the other hand, when the tradition necessarily
brought him into contact with savage ideas, he prefers to treat them
with reserve. We may infer, then, that at least in a certain society,
that of the princes for whom Homer sang, the primitive view of the world
was already discredited by a comparatively early date.[3]

Footnote 3:

  On all this, see especially Rohde, _Psyche_, pp. 14 sqq.

[Sidenote: 2. Hesiod.]

IV. When we come to Hesiod, we seem to be in another world. We hear
stories of the gods which are not only irrational but repulsive, and
these stories are told quite seriously. Hesiod makes the Muses say: “We
know how to tell many false things that are like the truth; but we know
too, when we will, to utter what is true.”[4] This means that he was
quite conscious of the difference between the Homeric spirit and his
own. The old light-heartedness is gone, and it is important to tell the
truth about the gods. Hesiod knows, too, that he belongs to a later and
a sadder time than Homer. In describing the Ages of the World, he
inserts a fifth age between those of Bronze and Iron. That is the Age of
the Heroes, the age Homer sang of. It was better than the Bronze Age
which came before it, and far better than that which followed it, the
Age of Iron, in which Hesiod lives.[5] He also feels that he is singing
for another class. It is to shepherds and husbandmen he addresses
himself, and the princes for whom Homer sang have become remote persons
who give “crooked dooms.” For common men there is no hope but in hard,
unceasing toil. It is the voice of the people we now hear for the first
time, and of a people for whom the romance and splendour of the Greek
Middle Ages meant nothing. The primitive view of the world had never
really died out among them; so it was natural for their first spokesman
to assume it in his poems. That is why we find in Hesiod these old,
savage tales, which Homer disdained to speak of.

Footnote 4:

  Hes. _Theog._ 27. They are the same Muses who inspired Homer, which
  means, in our language, that Hesiod wrote in hexameters and used the
  Epic dialect. The new literary _genre_ has not yet found its
  appropriate vehicle, which is elegy.

Footnote 5:

  There is great historical insight here. It was Hesiod, not our modern
  historians, who first pointed out that the “Greek Middle Ages” were a
  break in the normal development.

Yet it would be wrong to see in the _Theogony_ a mere revival of the old
superstition. Nothing can ever be revived just as it was; for in every
reaction there is a polemical element which differentiates it completely
from the earlier stage it vainly seeks to reproduce. Hesiod could not
help being affected by the new spirit which trade and adventure had
awakened over the sea, and he became a pioneer in spite of himself. The
rudiments of what grew into Ionic science and history are to be found in
his poems, and he really did more than any one to hasten that decay of
the old ideas which he was seeking to arrest. The _Theogony_ is an
attempt to reduce all the stories about the gods into a single system,
and system is necessarily fatal to so wayward a thing as mythology.
Hesiod, no less than Homer, teaches a panhellenic polytheism; the only
difference is that with him this is more directly based on the legends
attached to the local cults, which he thus sought to invest with a
national significance. The result is that the myth becomes primary and
the cult secondary, a complete inversion of the primitive relation.
Herodotos tells us that it was Homer and Hesiod who made a theogony for
the Hellenes, who gave the gods their names, and distributed among them
their offices and arts,[6] and it is perfectly true. The Olympian
pantheon took the place of the old local gods in men’s minds, and this
was as much the doing of Hesiod as of Homer. The ordinary man had no
ties to this company of gods, but at most to one or two of them; and
even these he would hardly recognise in the humanised figures, detached
from all local associations, which poetry had substituted for the older
objects of worship. The gods of Greece had become a splendid subject for
art; but they came between the Hellenes and their ancestral religions.
They were incapable of satisfying the needs of the people, and that is
the secret of the religious revival which we shall have to consider in
the sequel.

Footnote 6:

  Herod. ii. 53.

[Sidenote: Cosmogony.]

V. Nor is it only in this way that Hesiod shows himself a child of his
time. His _Theogony_ is at the same time a Cosmogony, though it would
seem that here he was following others rather than working out a thought
of his own. At any rate, he only mentions the two great cosmogonical
figures, Chaos and Eros, and does not really bring them into connexion
with his system. The conception of Chaos represents a distinct effort to
picture the beginning of things. It is not a formless mixture, but
rather, as its etymology indicates, the yawning gulf or gap where
nothing is as yet.[7] We may be sure that this is not primitive. Savage
man does not feel called upon to form an idea of the very beginning of
all things; he takes for granted that there was something to begin with.
The other figure, that of Eros, was doubtless intended to explain the
impulse to production which gave rise to the whole process. That, at
least, is what the Maoris mean by it, as may be seen from the following
remarkable passage[8]:—

                  From the conception the increase,
                  From the increase the swelling,
                  From the swelling the thought,
                  From the thought the remembrance,
                  From the remembrance the desire.
                  The word became fruitful,
                  It dwelt with the feeble glimmering,
                  It brought forth the night.

Hesiod must have had some such primitive speculation to work on, but he
does not tell us anything clearly on the subject.

Footnote 7:

  The word χάος certainly means the “gape” or “yawn,” the Orphic χάσμα
  πελώριον. Grimm compared it with the Scandinavian _Ginnunga-Gap_.

Footnote 8:

  Quoted from Taylor’s _New Zealand_, pp. 110-112, by Mr. Andrew Lang,
  in _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, vol. ii. p. 52 (2nd ed.).

We have records of great activity in the production of cosmogonies
during the whole of the sixth century B.C., and we know something of the
systems of Epimenides, Pherekydes,[9] and Akousilaos. As there were
speculations of this kind even before Hesiod, we need have no hesitation
in believing that the earliest Orphic cosmogony goes back to that
century too.[10] The feature which is common to all these systems is the
attempt to get behind the gap, and to put Kronos or Zeus in the first
place. This is what Aristotle has in view when he distinguishes the
“theologians” from those who were half theologians and half
philosophers, and who put what was best in the beginning.[11] It is
obvious, however, that this process is the very reverse of scientific,
and might be carried on indefinitely; so we have nothing to do with the
cosmogonists in our present inquiry, except so far as they can be shown
to have influenced the course of more sober investigations. Indeed,
these speculations are still based on the primitive view of the world,
and so fall outside the limits we have traced for ourselves.

Footnote 9:

  For the remains of Pherekydes, see Diels, _Vorsokratiker_, pp. 506
  sqq. (1st ed.), and the interesting account in Gomperz, _Greek
  Thinkers_, vol. i. pp. 85 sqq.

Footnote 10:

  This was the view of Lobeck with regard to the so-called “Rhapsodic
  Theogony” described by Damaskios, and was revived by Otto Kern (_De
  Orphei Epimenidis Pherecydis Theogoniis_, 1888). Its savage character
  is the best proof of its antiquity. Cf. Lang, _Myth, Ritual, and
  Religion_, vol. i. chap. x.

Footnote 11:

  Arist. _Met._ Ν, 4. 1091 b 8.

[Sidenote: General characteristics of early Greek cosmology.]

VI. What, then, was the step that placed the Ionian cosmologists once
for all above the level of the Maoris? Grote and Zeller make it consist
in the substitution of impersonal causes acting according to law for
personal causes acting arbitrarily. But the distinction between personal
and impersonal was not really felt in antiquity, and it is a mistake to
lay much stress on it. It seems rather that the real advance made by the
scientific men of Miletos was that they left off telling tales. They
gave up the hopeless task of describing what was when as yet there was
nothing, and asked instead what all things really are now.

[Sidenote: _Ex nihilo nihil._]

The great principle which underlies all their thinking, though it is
first put into words by Parmenides, is that _Nothing comes into being
out of nothing, and nothing passes away into nothing_. They saw,
however, that particular things were always coming into being and
passing away again, and from this it followed that their existence was
no true or stable one. The only things that were real and eternal were
the original matter which passed through all these changes and the
motion which gave rise to them, to which was soon added that law of
proportion or compensation which, despite the continual becoming and
passing away of things, secured the relative permanence and stability of
the various forms of existence that go to make up the world. That these
were, in fact, the leading ideas of the early cosmologists, cannot, of
course, be proved till we have given a detailed exposition of their
systems; but we can show at once how natural it was for such thoughts to
come to them. It is always the problem of change and decay that first
excites the wonder which, as Plato says, is the starting-point of all
philosophy. Besides this, there was in the Ionic nature a vein of
melancholy which led it to brood upon the instability of things. Even
before the time of Thales, Mimnermos of Kolophon sings the sadness of
change; and, at a later date, the lament of Simonides, that the
generations of men fall like the leaves of the forest, touches a chord
already struck by the earliest singer of Ionia.[12] Now, so long as men
could believe everything they saw was alive like themselves, the
spectacle of the unceasing death and new birth of nature would only
tinge their thoughts with a certain mournfulness, which would find its
expression in such things as the Linos dirges which the Greeks borrowed
from their Asiatic neighbours;[13] but when primitive animism, which had
seen conscious life everywhere, was gone, and polytheistic mythology,
which had personified at least the more striking natural phenomena, was
going, it must have seemed that there was nowhere any abiding reality.
Nowadays we are accustomed, for good and for ill, to the notion of dead
things, obedient, not to inner impulses, but solely to mechanical laws.
But that is not the view of the natural man, and we may be sure that,
when first it forced itself on him, it must have provoked a strong sense
of dissatisfaction. Relief was only to be had from the reflexion that as
nothing comes from nothing, nothing can pass away into nothing. There
must, then, be something which always is, something fundamental which
persists throughout all change, and ceases to exist in one form only
that it may reappear in another. It is significant that this something
is spoken of as “deathless” and “ageless.”[14]

Footnote 12:

  Simonides, fr. 85, 2 Bergk. _Il._ vi. 146.

Footnote 13:

  On Adonis-Thammuz, Lityerses, Linos, and Osiris, see Frazer, _Golden
  Bough_, vol. i. pp. 278 sqq.

Footnote 14:

  The Epic phrase ἀθάνατος καὶ ἀγήρως seems to have suggested this.
  Anaximander applied both epithets to the primary substance (R. P. 17
  and 17 a). Euripides, in describing the blessedness of the scientific
  life (fr. inc. 910), says ἀθανάτου ... φύσεως κόσμον ἀγήρω (R. P. 148
  c fin.).

[Sidenote: Φύσις]

VII. So far as I know, no historian of Greek philosophy has clearly laid
it down that the word which was used by the early cosmologists to
express this idea of a permanent and primary substance was none other
than φύσις; and that the title Περὶ φύσεως, so commonly given to
philosophical works of the sixth and fifth centuries B.C.,[15] means
simply _Concerning the Primary Substance_. Both Plato and Aristotle use
the term in this sense when they are discussing the earlier
philosophy,[16] and its history shows clearly enough what its original
meaning must have been. In Greek philosophical language, φύσις always
means that which is primary, fundamental, and persistent, as opposed to
what is secondary, derivative, and transient; what is “given,” as
opposed to that which is made or becomes. It is what is there to begin
with. It is true that Plato and his successors also identify φύσις with
the best or most normal condition of a thing; but that is just because
they held the goal of any development to be prior to the process by
which it is reached. Such an idea was wholly unknown to the pioneers of
philosophy. They sought the explanation of the incomplete world we know,
not in the end, but in the beginning. It seemed to them that, if only
they could strip off all the modifications which Art and Chance had
introduced, they would get at the ultimately real; and so the search
after φύσις, first in the world at large and afterwards in human
society, became the chief interest of the age we have to deal with.

Footnote 15:

  I do not mean to imply that the philosophers used this title
  themselves; for early prose writings had no titles. The writer
  mentioned his name and the subject of his work in the first sentence,
  as Herodotos, for instance, does.

Footnote 16:

  Plato, _Laws_, 892 c 2, φύσιν βούλονται λέγειν γένεσιν (_i.e._ τὸ ἐξ
  οὗ γίγνεται) τὴν περὶ τὰ πρῶτα (_i.e._ τὴν τῶν πρώτων). Arist. _Phys._
  Β, 1. 193 a 21, διόπερ οἱ μὲν πῦρ, οἱ δὲ γῆν, οἱ δ’ ἀέρα φασίν, οἱ δὲ
  ὗδωρ, οἱ δ’ ἔνια τούτων, οἱ δὲ πάντα ταῦτα τὴν φύσιν εἶναι τὴν τῶν
  ὄντων.

The word ἀρχή, by which the early cosmologists are usually said to have
designated the object of their search, is in this sense purely
Aristotelian. It is quite natural that it should be employed in the
well-known historical sketch of the First Book of the _Metaphysics_; for
Aristotle is there testing the theories of earlier thinkers by his own
doctrine of the four causes. But Plato never uses the term in this
connexion, and it does not occur once in the genuine fragments of the
early philosophers. It is confined to the Stoic and Peripatetic
handbooks from which most of our knowledge is derived, and these simply
repeat Aristotle. Zeller has pointed out in a footnote[17] that it would
be an anachronism to refer the subtle Aristotelian use of the word to
the beginnings of speculation. To Anaximander ἀρχή could only have meant
“beginning,” and it was far more than a beginning that the early
cosmologists were looking for: it was the _eternal_ ground of all
things.

There is one very important conclusion that follows at once from the
account just given of the meaning of φύσις, and it is, that the search
for the primary substance really was the thing that interested the
Ionian philosophers. Had their main object been, as Teichmüller held it
was, the explanation of celestial and meteorological phenomena, their
researches would not have been called Περὶ φύσεως ἱστορίη,[18] but
rather Περὶ οὐρανοῦ or Περὶ μετεώρων. And this we shall find confirmed
by a study of the way in which Greek cosmology developed. The growing
thought which may be traced through the successive representatives of
any school is always that which concerns the primary substance, while
the astronomical and other theories are, in the main, peculiar to the
individual thinkers. Teichmüller undoubtedly did good service by his
protest against the treatment of these theories as mere isolated
curiosities. They form, on the contrary, coherent systems which must be
looked at as wholes. But it is none the less true that Greek philosophy
began, as it ended, with the search for what was abiding in the flux of
things.

Footnote 17:

  Zeller, p. 217, n. 2 (Eng. trans. p. 248, n. 2). See below, Chap. I.
  p. 57, _n._ 105.

Footnote 18:

  We have the authority of Plato for giving them this name. Cf. _Phd._
  96 a 7, ταύτης τῆς σοφίας ἣν δὴ καλοῦσι περὶ φύσεως ἱστορίαν. So, in
  the fragment of Euripides referred to on p. 12, _n._ 14, the man who
  discerns “the ageless order of immortal φύσις” is referred to as ὅστις
  τῆς ἱστορίας ἔσχε μάθησιν.

[Sidenote: Motion and rest.]

VIII. But how could this give back to nature the life of which it had
been robbed by advancing knowledge? Simply by making it possible for the
life that had hitherto been supposed to reside in each particular thing
to be transferred to the one thing of which all others were passing
forms. The very process of birth, growth, and decay might now be
regarded as the unceasing activity of the one ultimate reality.
Aristotle and his followers expressed this by saying that the early
cosmologists believed in an “eternal motion,” and in substance this is
correct, though it is not probable that they said anything about the
eternal motion in their writings. It is more likely that they simply
took it for granted. In early times, it is not movement but rest that
has to be accounted for, and we may be sure that the eternity of motion
was not asserted till it had been denied. As we shall see, it was
Parmenides who first denied it. The idea of a single ultimate substance,
when thoroughly worked out, seemed to leave no room for motion; and
after the time of Parmenides, we do find that philosophers were
concerned to show how it began. At first, this would not seem to require
explanation at all.

Modern writers sometimes give the name of Hylozoism to this way of
thinking, but the term is apt to be misleading. It suggests theories
which deny the separate reality of life and spirit, whereas, in the days
of Thales, and even far later, the distinction between matter and spirit
had not been felt, still less formulated in such a way that it could be
denied. The uncreated, indestructible reality of which these early
thinkers tell us was a body, or even matter, if we choose to call it so;
but it was not matter in the sense in which matter is opposed to spirit.

[Sidenote: The downfall of the primitive view of the world.]

IX. We have indicated the main characteristics of the primitive view of
the world, and we have sketched in outline the view which displaced it;
we must now consider the causes which led to the downfall of the one and
the rise of the other. Foremost among these was undoubtedly the widening
of the Greek horizon occasioned by the great extension of maritime
enterprise which followed the decay of the Phoenician naval supremacy.
The scene of the old stories had, as a rule, been laid just outside the
boundaries of the world known to the men who believed them. Odysseus
does not meet with Kirke or the Kyklops or the Sirens in the familiar
Aegean, but in regions which lay beyond the ken of the Greeks at the
time the _Odyssey_ was composed. Now, however, the West was beginning to
be familiar too, and the fancy of the Greek explorers led them to
identify the lands which they discovered with the places which the hero
of the national fairy-tale had come to in his wanderings. It was soon
discovered that the monstrous beings in question were no longer to be
found there, and the belief grew up that they had never been there at
all. So, too, the Milesians had settled colonies all round the Euxine.
The colonists went out with Ἀργὼ πᾶσι μέλουσα in their minds; and, at
the same time as they changed the name of the Inhospitable to the
Hospitable Sea, they localised the “far country” (αἶα) of the primitive
tale, and made Jason fetch the Golden Fleece from Kolchis. Above all,
the Phokaians had explored the Mediterranean as far as the Pillars of
Herakles,[19] and the new knowledge that the “endless paths” of the sea
had boundaries must have moved men’s minds in much the same way as the
discovery of America did in later days. A single example will illustrate
the process which was always going on. According to the primitive view,
the heavens were supported by a giant called Atlas. No one had ever seen
him, though he was supposed to live in Arkadia. The Phokaian explorers
identified him with a cloud-capped mountain in Africa, and once they had
done this, the old belief was doomed. It was impossible to go on
believing in a god who was also a mountain, conveniently situated for
the trader to steer by, as he sailed to Tarshish in quest of silver.

Footnote 19:

  Herod. i. 163.

[Sidenote: Alleged Oriental origin of philosophy.]

X. But by far the most important question we have to face is that of the
nature and extent of the influence exercised by what we call Eastern
wisdom on the Greek mind. It is a common idea even now that the Greeks
in some way derived their philosophy from Egypt and Babylon, and we must
therefore try to understand as clearly as possible what such a statement
really means. To begin with, we must observe that no writer of the
period during which Greek philosophy flourished knows anything at all of
its having come from the East. Herodotos would not have omitted to say
so, had he ever heard of it; for it would have confirmed his own belief
in the Egyptian origin of Greek religion and civilisation.[20] Plato,
who had a very great respect for the Egyptians on other grounds,
distinctly implies that they were a businesslike rather than a
philosophical people.[21] Aristotle speaks only of the origin of
mathematics in Egypt[22] (a point to which we shall return), though, if
he had known of an Egyptian philosophy, it would have suited his
argument better to mention that. It is not till a far later date, when
Egyptian priests and Alexandrian Jews began to vie with one another in
discovering the sources of Greek philosophy in their own past, that we
first have definite statements to the effect that it came from Phoenicia
or Egypt. Here, however, we must carefully note two things. In the first
place, the word “philosophy” had come by that time to include theology
of a more or less mystical type, and was even applied to various forms
of asceticism.[23] In the second place, the so-called Egyptian
philosophy was only arrived at by a process of turning primitive myths
into allegories. We are still able to judge Philo’s Old Testament
interpretation for ourselves, and we may be sure that the Egyptian
allegorists were even more arbitrary; for they had far less promising
material to work on. Nothing can be more savage than the myth of Isis
and Osiris;[24] yet it is first interpreted according to the ideas of
later Greek philosophy, and then declared to be the original source of
that philosophy.

Footnote 20:

  All he can say is that the worship of Dionysos and the doctrine of
  transmigration came from Egypt (ii. 49, 123). We shall see that both
  these statements are incorrect, and in any case they do not imply
  anything directly as to philosophy.

Footnote 21:

  In _Rep._ 435 e, after saying that τὸ θυμοειδές is characteristic of
  the Thracians and Scythians, and τὸ φιλομαθές of the Hellenes, he
  refers us to Phoenicia and Egypt for τὸ φιλοχρήματον. In the _Laws_,
  where the Egyptians are so strongly commended for their conservatism
  in matters of art, he says (747 b 6) that arithmetical studies are
  valuable only if we remove all ἀνελευθερία and φιλοχρηματία from the
  souls of the learners. Otherwise, we produce πανουργία instead of
  σοφία, as we can see that the Phoenicians, the Egyptians, and many
  other peoples do.

Footnote 22:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 1. 981 b 23.

Footnote 23:

  See Zeller, p. 3, n. 2. Philo applies the term πάτριος φιλοσοφία to
  the theology of the Essenes and Therapeutai.

Footnote 24:

  On this, see Lang, _Myth, Ritual, and Religion_, vol. ii. p. 135.

This method of interpretation may be said to culminate with the
Neopythagorean Noumenios, from whom it passed to the Christian
Apologists. It is Noumenios who asks, “What is Plato, but Moses speaking
Attic?”[25] It seems likely, indeed, that he was thinking of certain
marked resemblances between Plato’s _Laws_ and the Levitical Code when
he said this—resemblances due to the fact that certain primitive legal
ideas are similarly modified in both; but in any case Clement and
Eusebios give the remark a far wider application.[26] At the
Renaissance, this absurd farrago was revived along with everything else,
and certain ideas derived from the _Praeparatio Evangelica_ continued
for long to colour accepted views on the subject. Even Cudworth speaks
complacently of the ancient “Moschical or Mosaical philosophy” taught by
Thales and Pythagoras.[27] It is important to realise the true origin of
this deeply-rooted prejudice against the originality of the Greeks. It
does not come from modern researches into the beliefs of ancient
peoples; for these have disclosed absolutely nothing in the way of
evidence for a Phoenician or Egyptian philosophy. It is a mere residuum
of the Alexandrian passion for allegory.

Footnote 25:

  Noumenios, fr. 13 (R. P. 624), Τί γάρ ἐστι Πλάτων ἢ Μωυσῆς ἀττικίζων;

Footnote 26:

  Clement (_Strom._ i. p. 8, 5, Stählin) calls Plato ὁ ἐξ Ἑβραίων
  φιλόσοφος.

Footnote 27:

  We learn from Strabo (xvi. p. 757) that it was Poseidonios who
  introduced Mochos of Sidon into the history of philosophy. He
  attributes the atomic theory to him. His identification with Moses,
  however, is a later _tour de force_. Philon of Byblos published what
  purported to be a translation of an ancient Phoenician history by
  Sanchuniathon, which was used by Porphyry and afterwards by Eusebios.
  How familiar all this became, is shown by the speech of the stranger
  in the _Vicar of Wakefield_, chap. xiv.

Of course no one nowadays would rest the case for the Oriental origin of
Greek philosophy on the evidence of Clement or Eusebios; the favourite
argument in recent times has been the analogy of the arts and religion.
We are seeing more and more, it is said, that the Greeks derived their
art and many of their religious ideas from the East; and it is urged
that the same will in all probability prove true of their philosophy.
This is a specious argument, but not in the least conclusive. It ignores
altogether the essential difference in the way these things are
transmitted from people to people. Material civilisation and the arts
may pass easily from one people to another, though they have not a
common language, and certain simple religious ideas can be conveyed by
ritual better than in any other way. Philosophy, on the other hand, can
only be expressed in abstract language, and it can only be transmitted
by educated men, whether by means of books or oral teaching. Now we know
of no Greek, in the times we are dealing with, who knew enough of any
Oriental language to read an Egyptian book or even to listen to the
discourse of an Egyptian priest, and we never hear till a late date of
Oriental teachers who wrote or spoke in Greek. The Greek traveller in
Egypt would no doubt pick up a few words of Egyptian, and it is certain
that somehow or other the priests could make themselves understood by
the Greeks. They were able to rebuke Hekataios for his family pride, and
Plato tells a story of the same sort at the beginning of the
_Timaeus_.[28] But they must have made use of interpreters, and it is
impossible to conceive of philosophical ideas being communicated through
an uneducated dragoman.[29]

Footnote 28:

  Herod. ii. 143; Plato, _Tim._ 22 b 3.

Footnote 29:

  Gomperz’s “native bride,” who discusses the wisdom of her people with
  her Greek lord (_Greek Thinkers_, vol. i. p. 95), does not convince me
  either. She would probably teach her maids the rites of strange
  goddesses; but she would not be likely to talk theology with her
  husband, and still less philosophy or science. The use of Babylonian
  as an international language will account for the fact that the
  Egyptians knew something of Babylonian astronomy; but it does not help
  us to explain how the Greeks could communicate with the Egyptians. It
  is plain that the Greeks did not even know of this international
  language; for it is just the sort of thing they would have recorded
  with interest if they had. In early days, they may have met with it in
  Cyprus, but that was apparently forgotten.

But really it is not worth while to ask whether the communication of
philosophical ideas was possible or not, till some evidence has been
produced that any of these peoples had a philosophy to communicate. No
such evidence has yet been discovered, and, so far as we know, the
Indians were the only people besides the Greeks who ever had anything
that deserves the name. No one now will suggest that Greek philosophy
came from India, and indeed everything points to the conclusion that
Indian philosophy came from Greece. The chronology of Sanskrit
literature is an extremely difficult subject; but, so far as we can see,
the great Indian systems are later in date than the Greek philosophies
which they most nearly resemble. Of course the mysticism of the
Upanishads and of Buddhism were of native growth and profoundly
influenced philosophy, but they were not themselves philosophy in any
true sense of the word.[30]

Footnote 30:

  For the possibility that Indian philosophy came from Greece, see
  Weber, _Die Griechen in Indien_ (Berl. Sitzb. 1890, pp. 901 sqq.), and
  Goblet d’Alviella, _Ce que l’Inde doit à la Grèce_ (Paris, 1897).

[Sidenote: Egyptian mathematics.]

XI. It would, however, be another thing to say that Greek philosophy
originated quite independently of Oriental influences. The Greeks
themselves believed their mathematical science to be of Egyptian origin,
and they must also have known something of Babylonian astronomy. It
cannot be an accident that philosophy originated in Ionia just at the
time when communication with these two countries was easiest, and it is
significant that the very man who was said to have introduced geometry
from Egypt is also regarded as the first of the philosophers. It thus
becomes very important for us to discover, if we can, what Egyptian
mathematics meant. We shall see that, even here, the Greeks were really
original.

There is a papyrus in the Rhind collection at the British Museum[31]
which gives us an instructive glimpse of arithmetic and geometry as
these sciences were understood on the banks of the Nile. It is the work
of one Aahmes, and contains rules for calculations both of an
arithmetical and a geometrical character. The arithmetical problems
mostly concern measures of corn and fruit, and deal particularly with
such questions as the division of a number of measures among a given
number of persons, the number of loaves or jars of beer that certain
measures will yield, and the wages due to the workmen for a certain
piece of work. It corresponds exactly, in fact, to the description of
Egyptian arithmetic which Plato has given us in the _Laws_, where he
tells us that the children learnt along with their letters to solve
problems in the distribution of apples and wreaths to greater or smaller
numbers of people, the pairing of boxers and wrestlers, and so
forth.[32] This is clearly the origin of the art which the Greeks called
λογιστική, and they certainly borrowed that from Egypt; but there is not
the slightest trace of what the Greeks called ἀριθμητική, or the
scientific study of numbers.

Footnote 31:

  I am indebted for most of the information which follows to Cantor’s
  _Vorlesungen über Geschichte der Mathematik_, vol. i. pp. 46-63. See
  also Gow’s _Short History of Greek Mathematics_, §§ 73-80; and
  Milhaud, _La science grecque_, pp. 91 sqq. The discussion in the
  last-named work is of special value because it is based on M. Rodet’s
  paper in the _Bulletin de la Société Mathématique_, vol. vi., which in
  some important respects supplements the interpretation of Eisenlohr,
  on which the earlier accounts depend.

Footnote 32:

  Plato, _Laws_, 819 b 4, μήλων τέ τινων διανομαὶ καὶ στεφάνων πλείοσιν
  ἄμα καὶ ἐλάττοσιν ἁρμοττόντων ἀριθμῶν τῶν αὐτῶν, καὶ πυκτῶν καὶ
  παλαιστῶν ἐφεδρείας τε καὶ συλλήξεως ἐν μέρει καὶ ἐφεξῆς καὶ ὡς
  πεφύκασι γίγνεσθαι. καὶ δὴ καὶ παίζοντες, φιάλας ἅμα χρυσοῦ καὶ χαλκοῦ
  καὶ ἀργύρου καὶ τοιούτων τινῶν ἄλλων κεραννύντες, οἱ δὲ καὶ ὅλας πως
  διαδιδόντες. In its context, the passage implies that no more than
  this could be learnt in Egypt.

The geometry of the Rhind papyrus is of a similarly utilitarian
character, and Herodotos, who tells us that Egyptian geometry arose
from the necessity of measuring the land afresh after the inundations,
is obviously far nearer the mark than Aristotle, who says that it grew
out of the leisure enjoyed by the priestly caste.[33] We find,
accordingly, that the rules given for calculating areas are only exact
when these are rectangular. As fields are usually more or less
rectangular, this would be sufficient for practical purposes. The rule
for finding what is called the _seqt_ of a pyramid is, however, on a
rather higher level, as we should expect; for the angles of the
Egyptian pyramids really are equal, and there must have been some
method for obtaining this result. It comes to this. Given the “length
across the sole of the foot,” that is, the diagonal of the base, and
that of the _piremus_ or “ridge,” to find a number which represents
the ratio between them. This is done by dividing half the diagonal of
the base by the “ridge,” and it is obvious that such a method might
quite well be discovered empirically. It seems an anachronism to speak
of elementary trigonometry in connexion with a rule like this, and
there is nothing to suggest that the Egyptians went any further.[34]
That the Greeks learnt as much from them, we shall see to be highly
probable, though we shall see also that, from a comparatively early
period, they generalised it so as to make it of use in measuring the
distances of inaccessible objects, such as ships at sea. It was
probably this generalisation that suggested the idea of a science of
geometry, which was really the creation of the Pythagoreans, and we
can see how far the Greeks soon surpassed their teachers from a remark
of Demokritos which has been preserved. He says (fr. 299): “I have
listened to many learned men, but no one has yet surpassed me in the
construction of figures out of lines accompanied by demonstration, not
even the Egyptian _harpedonapts_, as they call them.”[35] Now the word
ἁρπεδονάπτης is not Egyptian but Greek. It means “cord-fastener,”[36]
and it is a striking coincidence that the oldest Indian geometrical
treatise is called the _Çulvasutras_ or “rules of the cord.” These
things point to the use of the triangle of which the sides are 3, 4,
5, and which has always a right angle. We know that this triangle was
used from an early date among the Chinese and the Hindus, who
doubtless got it from Babylon, and we shall see that Thales probably
learnt the use of it in Egypt.[37] There is no reason whatever for
supposing that any of these peoples had in any degree troubled
themselves to give a theoretical demonstration of its properties,
though Demokritos would certainly have been able to do so. Finally, we
must note the highly significant fact that all mathematical terms are
of purely Greek origin.[38]

Footnote 33:

  Herod. ii. 109; Arist. _Met._ Α, 1. 981 b 23.

Footnote 34:

  For a fuller account of this method, see Gow, _Short History of Greek
  Mathematics_, pp. 127 sqq.; and Milhaud, _Science grecque_, p. 99.

Footnote 35:

  R. P. 188.

Footnote 36:

  The real meaning of ἁρπεδονάπτης was first pointed out by Cantor. The
  gardener laying out a flower-bed is the true modern representative of
  the “harpedonapts.”

Footnote 37:

  See Milhaud, _Science grecque_, p. 103.

Footnote 38:

  The word πυραμίς is often supposed to be derived from the term
  _piremus_ used in the Rhind papyrus, which does not mean pyramid, but
  “ridge.” It is really, however, a Greek word too, and is the name of a
  kind of cake. The Greeks called crocodiles lizards, ostriches
  sparrows, and obelisks meat-skewers, so they may very well have called
  the pyramids cakes. We seem to hear an echo of the slang of the
  mercenaries that carved their names on the colossus at Abu-Simbel.

[Sidenote: Babylonian astronomy.]

XII. The other source from which the Ionians directly or indirectly
derived material for their cosmology was the Babylonian astronomy. There
is no doubt that the Babylonians from a very early date had recorded all
celestial phenomena like eclipses. They had also studied the planetary
motions, and determined the signs of the zodiac. Further, they were able
to predict the recurrence of the phenomena they had observed with
considerable accuracy by means of cycles based on their recorded
observations. I can see no reason for doubting that they had observed
the phenomenon of precession. Indeed, they could hardly have failed to
notice it; for their observations went back over so many centuries, that
it would be quite appreciable. We know that, at a later date, Ptolemy
estimated the precession of the equinoxes at one degree in a hundred
years, and it is extremely probable that this is just the Babylonian
value. At any rate, it agrees very well with their division of the
celestial circle into 360 degrees, and made it possible for a century to
be regarded as a day in the “Great Year,” a conception we shall meet
with later on.[39]

Footnote 39:

  Three different positions of the equinox are given in three different
  Babylonian tablets, namely, 10°, 8° 15′, and 8° 0′ 30″ of Aries.
  (Kugler, _Mondrechnung_, p. 103; Ginzel, _Klio_, i. p. 205.) Given
  knowledge of this kind, and the practice of formulating recurrences in
  cycles, it is scarcely conceivable that the Babylonians should not
  have invented a cycle for precession. It is equally intelligible that
  they should only have reached a rough approximation; for the
  precessional period is really about 27,600 years and not 36,000. It is
  to be observed that Plato’s “perfect year” is also 36,000 solar years
  (Adam’s _Republic_, vol. ii. p. 302), and that it is probably
  connected with the precession of the equinoxes. (Cf. _Tim._ 39 d, a
  passage which is most easily interpreted if referred to precession.)
  This suggestion as to the origin of the “Great Year” was thrown out by
  Mr. Adam (_op. cit._ p. 305), and is now confirmed by Hilprecht, _The
  Babylonian Expedition of the University of Pennsylvania_
  (Philadelphia, 1906).

We shall see that Thales probably knew the cycle which the Babylonians
used to predict eclipses (§ 3); but it would be a mistake to suppose
that the pioneers of Greek science had any detailed knowledge of the
Babylonian astronomy. It was not till the time of Plato that even the
names of the planets were known,[40] and the recorded observations were
only made available in Alexandrian times. But, even if they had known
these, their originality would remain. The Babylonians studied and
recorded celestial phenomena for what we call astrological purposes, not
from any scientific interest. There is no evidence at all that their
accumulated observations ever suggested to them the least
dissatisfaction with the primitive view of the world, or that they
attempted to account for what they saw in any but the crudest way. The
Greeks, on the other hand, with far fewer data to go upon, made at least
three discoveries of capital importance in the course of two or three
generations. In the first place, they discovered that the earth is a
sphere and does not rest on anything. In the second place, they
discovered the true theory of lunar and solar eclipses; and, in close
connexion with this, they came to see, in the third place, that the
earth is not the centre of our system, but revolves round it like the
other planets. Not very much later, certain Greeks even took, at least
tentatively, the final step of identifying the centre round which the
earth and the planets revolve with the sun. These discoveries will be
discussed in their proper place; they are only mentioned here to show
the gulf between Greek astronomy and everything that had preceded it.
The Babylonians had as many thousand years as the Greeks had centuries
to make these discoveries, and it does not appear that they ever thought
of one of them. The originality of the Greeks cannot be successfully
questioned till it can be shown that the Babylonians had even an
incorrect idea of what we call the solar system.

Footnote 40:

  In classical Greek literature, no planets but Ἕσπερος and Ἑωσφόρος are
  mentioned by name at all. Parmenides (or Pythagoras) first identified
  these as a single planet (§ 93). Mercury appears for the first time by
  name in _Tim._ 38 e, and the other divine names are given in _Epin._
  987 b sq., where they are said to be “Syrian.” The Greek names Φαίνων,
  Φαέθων, Πυρόεις, Φωσφόρος, Στίλβων, may be older, but this cannot be
  proved.

We may sum up all this by saying that the Greeks did not borrow either
their philosophy or their science from the East. They did, however, get
from Egypt certain rules of mensuration which, when generalised, gave
birth to geometry; while from Babylon they learnt that the phenomena of
the heavens recur in cycles with the greatest regularity. This piece of
knowledge undoubtedly had a great deal to do with the rise of science;
for to the Greek it suggested further questions such as the Babylonian
did not dream of.[41]

Footnote 41:

  The Platonic account of this matter is to be found in the _Epinomis_,
  986 e 9 sqq., and is summed up by the words λάβωμεν δὲ ὡς ὅτιπερ ἂν
  Ἕλληνες βαρβάρων παραλάβωσι, κάλλιον τοῦτο εἰς τέλος ἀπεργάζονται (987
  d 9). The point is well put by Theon (Adrastos), _Exp._ p. 177, 20
  Hiller, who speaks of the Chaldaeans and Egyptians as ἄνευ φυσιολογίας
  ἀτελεῖς ποιούμενοι τὰς μεθόδους, δέον ἅμα καὶ φυσικῶς περὶ τούτων
  ἐπισκοπεῖν· ὅπερ οἱ παρὰ τοῖς Ἕλλησιν ἀστρολογήσαντες ἐπειρῶντο
  ποιεῖν, τὰς παρὰ τούτων λαβόντες ἀρχὰς καὶ τῶν φαινομένων τηρήσεις.
  The importance of this last passage is that it represents the view
  taken at Alexandria, where the facts were accurately known.

[Sidenote: The scientific character of the early Greek cosmology.]

XIII. It is necessary to say something as to the scientific worth of the
philosophy we are about to study. We have just seen that the Eastern
peoples were, at the time of which we write, considerably richer than
the Greeks in accumulated facts, though these facts had certainly not
been observed for any scientific purpose, and their possession never
suggested a revision of the primitive view of the world. The Greeks,
however, saw in them something that could be turned to account, and they
were never as a people slow to act on the maxim, _Chacun prend son bien
partout où il le trouve_. The most striking monument of this spirit
which has come down to us is the work of Herodotos; and the visit of
Solon to Croesus which he describes, however unhistorical it may be,
gives a very lively and faithful picture of it. Croesus tells Solon that
he has heard much of “his wisdom and his wanderings,” and how, from love
of knowledge (φιλοσοφέων), he has travelled over much land for the
purpose of seeing what was to be seen (θεωρίης εἵνεκεν). The words
θεωρίη, φιλοσοφίη, and ἱστορίη are, in fact, the catchwords of the time,
though they had, we must remember, a somewhat different meaning from
that which they were afterwards made to bear at Athens.[42] The idea
that underlies them all may, perhaps, be best rendered in English by the
word _Curiosity_; and it was just this great gift of curiosity, and the
desire to see all the wonderful things—pyramids, inundations, and so
forth—that were to be seen, which enabled the Greeks to pick up and turn
to their own use such scraps of knowledge as they could come by among
the barbarians. No sooner did a Greek philosopher learn half a dozen
geometrical propositions, and hear that the phenomena of the heavens
recur in cycles, than he set to work to look for law everywhere in
nature, and, with a splendid audacity, almost amounting to ὕβρις, to
construct a system of the universe. We may smile, if we please, at the
strange medley of childish fancy and true scientific insight which these
Titanic efforts display, and sometimes we feel disposed to sympathise
with the sages of the day who warned their more daring contemporaries
“to think the thoughts befitting man’s estate” (ἀνθρώπινα φρονεῖν). But
we shall do well to remember at the same time that even now it is just
such hardy anticipations of experience that make scientific progress
possible, and that nearly every one of the early inquirers whom we are
about to study made some permanent addition to the store of positive
knowledge, besides opening up new views of the world in every direction.

Footnote 42:

  Still, the word θεωρία never wholly lost its early associations, and
  the Greeks always felt that the θεωρητικὸς βίος meant literally “the
  life of the spectator.” Its special use, and the whole theory of the
  “three lives,” seem to be of Pythagorean origin. See my edition of
  Aristotle’s _Ethics_, p. 19 n.

There is no justification either for the idea that Greek science was
built up solely by more or less lucky guesswork, instead of by
observation and experiment. The nature of our tradition, which mostly
consists of _Placita_—that is, of what we call “results”—tends, no
doubt, to create this impression. We are seldom told why any early
philosopher held the views he did, and the appearance of a string of
“opinions” suggests dogmatism. There are, however, certain exceptions to
the general character of the tradition; and we may reasonably suppose
that, if the later Greeks had been interested in the matter, there would
have been many more. We shall see that Anaximander made some remarkable
discoveries in marine biology, which the researches of the nineteenth
century have fully confirmed (§ 21), and even Xenophanes supported one
of his theories by referring to the fossils and petrifactions of such
widely separated places as Malta, Paros, and Syracuse (§ 59). This is
enough to show that the theory, so commonly held by the earlier
philosophers, that the earth had been originally in a moist state, was
not mythological in origin, but was based on, or at any rate confirmed
by, biological and palaeontological observations of a thoroughly modern
and scientific type. It would surely be absurd to imagine that the men
who could make these observations had not the curiosity or the ability
to make many others of which the memory is lost. Indeed, the idea that
the Greeks were not observers is almost ludicrously wrong, as is proved
by two simple considerations. The anatomical accuracy of Greek sculpture
bears witness to trained habits of observation, and those of the highest
order, while the fixing of the seasons by the heliacal rising and
setting of the stars shows a familiarity with celestial phenomena which
is by no means common at the present day.[43] We know, then, that the
Greeks could observe well in matters affecting agriculture, navigation,
and the arts, and we know that they were curious about the world. Is it
conceivable that they did not use their powers of observation to gratify
that curiosity? It is true, of course, that they had not our instruments
of precision; but a great deal can be discovered by the help of very
simple apparatus. It is not to be supposed that Anaximander erected his
_gnomon_ merely that the Spartans might know the seasons.[44]

Footnote 43:

  These two points are rightly emphasised by Staigmüller, _Beiträge zur
  Gesch. der Naturwissenschaften im klassischen Altertume_ (Progr.
  Stuttgart, 1899, p. 8).

Footnote 44:

  The gnomon was not a sundial, but an upright erected on a flat
  surface, in the centre of three concentric circles. These were drawn
  so that the end of the gnomon’s shadow touched the innermost circle at
  midday on the summer solstice, the intermediate circle at the
  equinoxes, and the outermost circle at the winter solstice. See
  Bretschneider, _Die Geometrie vor Euklid_, p. 60.

Nor is it true that the Greeks made no use of experiment. The rise of
the experimental method dates from the time when the medical schools
began to influence the development of philosophy, and accordingly we
find that the first recorded experiment of a modern type is that of
Empedokles with the _klepsydra_. We have his own account of this (fr.
100), and we can see how it brought him to the verge of anticipating
both Harvey and Torricelli. It is once more inconceivable that an
inquisitive people should have applied the experimental method in a
single case without extending it to the elucidation of other problems.

Of course the great difficulty for us is the geocentric hypothesis from
which science inevitably started, though only to outgrow it in a
surprisingly short time. So long as the earth is supposed to be in the
centre of the world, meteorology, in the later sense of the word, is
necessarily identified with astronomy. It is difficult for us to feel at
home in this point of view, and indeed we have no suitable word to
express what the Greeks at first called an οὐρανός. It will be
convenient to use the word “world” for it; but then we must remember
that it does not refer solely, or even chiefly, to the earth. The later
word κόσμος bears witness to the growth of scientific ideas. It meant at
first the marshalling of an army, and next the ordered constitution of a
state. It was transferred from this to the world because in early days
the regularity and constancy of human life was far more clearly seen
than the uniformity of nature. Man lived in a charmed circle of law and
custom, but the world around him still seemed lawless. That, too, is
why, when the regular course of nature was first realised, no better
word for it could be found than δίκη. It is the same metaphor which
still lives on in the expression “natural law.”[45]

Footnote 45:

  The term κόσμος seems to be Pythagorean in this sense. It was not
  familiar even at the beginning of the fourth century. Xenophon speaks
  of “what the sophists call the κόσμος” (Mem. i. 11). For δίκη, see
  below, §§ 14, 72.

The science of the sixth century was mainly concerned, then, with those
parts of the world that are “aloft” (τὰ μετέωρα), and these include,
along with the heavenly bodies, such things as clouds, rainbows, and
lightning. That is how the heavenly bodies came sometimes to be
explained as ignited clouds, an idea which seems astonishing to us. But
we must bear in mind that science inevitably and rightly began with the
most obvious hypothesis, and that it was only the thorough working out
of this that could show its inadequacy. It is just because the Greeks
were the first people to take the geocentric hypothesis seriously that
they were able to go beyond it. Of course the pioneers of Greek thought
had no clear idea of the nature of scientific hypothesis, and supposed
themselves to be dealing with ultimate reality. That was inevitable
before the rise of Logic. At the same time, a sure instinct guided them
to the right method, and we can see how it was the effort to “save
appearances”[46] that really operated from the first. It is, therefore,
to those men that we owe the conception of an exact science which should
ultimately take in the whole world as its object. They fancied—absurdly
enough, no doubt—that they could work out this science at once. We
sometimes make the same mistake nowadays; and it can no more rob the
Greeks of the honour of having been the first to see the true, though
perhaps unattainable, end of all science than it can rob our own
scientific men of the honour of having brought that end nearer than it
was. It is still knowledge of the kind foreseen and attempted by the
Greeks that they are in search of.

Footnote 46:

  This phrase originated in the school of Plato. The method of research
  in use there was for the leader to “propound” (προτείνειν,
  προβάλλεσθαι) it as a “problem” (πρόβλημα) to find the simplest
  “hypothesis” (τίνων ὑποτεθέντων) on which it is possible to account
  for and do justice to all the observed facts (σῴζειν τὰ φαινόμενα). It
  was in its French form, _sauver les apparences_, that the phrase
  acquired the meaning it usually has now.

[Sidenote: Schools of philosophy.]

XIV. Theophrastos, the first writer to treat the history of Greek
philosophy in a systematic way,[47] represented the early cosmologists
as standing to one another in the relation of master and scholar, and as
members of regular societies. This has been regarded by many modern
writers as an anachronism, and some have even denied the existence of
“schools” of philosophy altogether. Such a reaction against the older
view was quite justified in so far as it was directed against arbitrary
classifications like the “Ionic” and “Italian” schools, which are
derived through Laertios Diogenes from the Alexandrian writers of
“Successions.” But the express statements of Theophrastos are not to be
so lightly set aside. As this point is of great importance, it will be
necessary to elucidate it still further before we enter upon our story.

Footnote 47:

  See Appendix, § 7.

The modern view really rests upon a mistaken idea of the way in which
civilisation develops. In almost every department of life, we find that
the corporation at first is everything and the individual nothing. The
peoples of the East hardly got beyond this stage at all; their science,
such as it is, is anonymous, the inherited property of a caste or guild,
and we still see clearly in some cases that it was once the same among
the Hellenes. Medicine, for instance, was originally the “mystery” of
the Asklepiads, and it is to be supposed that all craftsmen
(δημιουργοί), amongst whom Homer classes the bards (ἀοιδοί), were at
first organised in a similar way. What distinguished the Hellenes from
other peoples was that at a comparatively early date these crafts came
under the influence of outstanding individuals, who gave them a fresh
direction and a new impulse. It is doubtless in some such way that we
should understand the relation of Homer to the Homeridai. The Asklepiads
at a later date produced Hippokrates, and if we knew more of such guilds
as the Daidalids, it is likely we should find something of the same
kind. But this does not destroy the corporate character of the craft;
indeed, it rather intensifies it. The guild becomes what we call a
“school,” and the disciple takes the place of the apprentice. That is a
vital change. A close guild with none but official heads is essentially
conservative, while a band of disciples attached to a master they revere
is the greatest progressive force the world knows.

It is certain that the later Athenian schools were organised
corporations, the oldest of which, the Academy, maintained its existence
as such for some nine hundred years, and the only question we have to
decide is whether this was an innovation made in the fourth century
B.C., or rather the continuance of an old tradition. As it happens, we
have the authority of Plato for speaking of the chief early systems as
handed down in schools. He makes Sokrates speak of “the men of Ephesos,”
the Herakleiteans, as forming a strong body in his own day,[48] and the
stranger of the _Sophist_ and the _Statesman_ speaks of his school as
still in existence at Elea.[49] We also hear of “Anaxagoreans,”[50] and
no one, of course, can doubt that the Pythagoreans were a society. In
fact, there is hardly any school but that of Miletos for which we have
not external evidence of the strongest kind; and even as regards it, we
have the significant fact that Theophrastos speaks of philosophers of a
later date as having been “associates of the philosophy of
Anaximenes.”[51] We shall see too in the first chapter that the internal
evidence in favour of the existence of a Milesian school is very strong
indeed. It is from this point of view, then, that we shall now proceed
to consider the men who created Hellenic science.

Footnote 48:

  _Tht._ 179 e 4, αὐτοῖς ... τοῖς περὶ τὴν Ἔφεσον. The humorous denial
  that the Herakleiteans had any disciples (180 b 8, Ποίοις μαθηταῖς, ὦ
  δαιμόνιε;) implies that this was the normal and recognised relation.

Footnote 49:

  _Soph._ 242 d 4, τὸ ... παρ’ ἡμῖν Ἐλεατικὸν ἔθνος. Cf. ib. 216 a 3,
  ἑταῖρον δὲ τῶν ἀμφὶ Παρμενίδην καὶ Ζήνωνα [ἑταίρων] (where ἑταίρων is
  probably interpolated, but gives the right sense); 217 a, 1, οἱ περὶ
  τὸν ἐκεῖ τόπον.

Footnote 50:

  _Crat._ 409 b 6, εἴπερ ἀληθῆ οἱ Ἀναξαγόρειοι λέγουσιν.

Footnote 51:

  Cf. Chap. VI. § 122; and, on the whole subject, see Diels, “Über die
  ältesten Philosophenschulen der Griechen” in _Philosophische Aufsätze
  Eduard Zeller gewidmet_ (Leipzig, 1887).




                               CHAPTER I
                          THE MILESIAN SCHOOL


[Sidenote: Miletos and Lydia.]

1. It was at Miletos that the earliest school of scientific cosmology
had its home. At the time it arose, the Milesians were in an
exceptionally favourable position for scientific as well as commercial
pursuits. They had, indeed, come into conflict more than once with the
neighbouring Lydians, whose rulers were now bent upon extending their
dominion to the coast; but, towards the end of the seventh century B.C.,
Thrasyboulos, tyrant of Miletos, had succeeded in making terms with King
Alyattes, and an alliance was concluded between them, which not only
saved Miletos for the present from a disaster like that which befell
Smyrna, but secured it against molestation for the future. Even half a
century later, when Croesus, resuming his father’s forward policy, made
war upon and conquered Ephesos, Miletos was still able to maintain the
old treaty-relation, and never, strictly speaking, became subject to the
Lydians at all. We can hardly doubt that the sense of security which
this exceptional position would foster had something to do with the rise
of scientific inquiry. Material prosperity is necessary as a foundation
for the highest intellectual effort; and at this time Miletos was in
possession of all the refinements of life to a degree unknown in
continental Hellas.

Nor was it only in this way that the Lydian connexion would favour the
growth of science at Miletos. What was called Hellenism at a later date
seems to have been traditional in the dynasty of the Mermnadai. There
may well be some truth in the statement of Herodotos, that all the
“sophists” of the time flocked to the court of Sardeis.[52] The
tradition which represents Croesus as what we should call the “patron”
of Greek wisdom, was fully developed in the fifth century; and, however
unhistorical its details may be, it must clearly have some sort of
foundation in fact. Particularly noteworthy is “the common tale among
the Greeks,” that Thales accompanied him on his luckless campaign
against Pteria, apparently in the capacity of military engineer.
Herodotos, indeed, disbelieves the story that he diverted the course of
the Halys;[53] but he does not attack it on the ground of any antecedent
improbability, and it is quite clear that those who reported it found no
difficulty in accepting the relation which it presupposes between the
philosopher and the king.

Footnote 52:

  Herod. i. 29. Some other points may be noted in confirmation of what
  has been said as to the “Hellenism” of the Mermnadai. Alyattes had two
  wives, one of whom, the mother of Croesus, was a Karian; the other was
  an Ionian, and by her he had a son called by the Greek name Pantaleon
  (_ib._ 92). The offerings of Gyges were pointed out in the treasury of
  Kypselos at Delphoi (_ib._ 14), and those of Alyattes were one of the
  “sights” of the place (_ib._ 25). Croesus also showed great liberality
  to Delphoi (_ib._ 50), and to many other Greek shrines (_ib._ 92). He
  gave most of the pillars for the great temple at Ephesos. The stories
  of Miltiades (vi. 37) and Alkmeon (_ib._ 125) should also be mentioned
  in this connexion.

Footnote 53:

  Herod. i. 75. He disbelieves it because he had heard, probably from
  the Greeks of Sinope, of the great antiquity of the bridge on the
  royal road between Ankyra and Pteria (Ramsay, _Asia Minor_, p. 29).
  Xanthos recorded a tradition that it was Thales who induced Croesus to
  ascend his pyre when he knew a shower was coming (fr. 19).

It should be added that the Lydian alliance would greatly facilitate
intercourse with Babylon and Egypt. Lydia was an advanced post of
Babylonian culture, and Croesus was on friendly terms with the kings of
both Egypt and Babylon. It is noteworthy, too, that Amasis of Egypt had
the same Hellenic sympathies as Croesus, and that the Milesians
possessed a temple of their own at Naukratis.[54]

Footnote 54:

  Milesians at Naukratis, Herod. ii. 178, where Amasis is said to have
  been φιλέλλην. He subscribed to the rebuilding of the temple at
  Delphoi after the great fire (_ib._ 180).


                               I. THALES

[Sidenote: Origin.]

2. There can be no doubt that the founder of the Milesian school, and
therefore the first of the cosmologists, was Thales;[55] but all we can
really be said to know of him comes from Herodotos, and the romance of
the Seven Wise Men was already in existence when he wrote. He tells us,
in the first place, that Thales was of Phoenician descent, a statement
which other writers explained by saying he belonged to the Thelidai, a
noble house descended from Kadmos and Agenor.[56] This is clearly
connected with the view of Herodotos that there were “Kadmeians” from
Boiotia among the original Ionian colonists, and it is certain that
there really were people called Kadmeians in several Ionic cities.[57]
Whether they were of Semitic origin is, of course, another matter.
Herodotos probably mentions the supposed descent of Thales simply
because he was believed to have introduced certain improvements in
navigation from Phoenicia.[58] At any rate, the name Examyes, which his
father bore, lends no support to the view that he was a Semite. It is a
Karian name, and the Karians had been almost completely assimilated by
the Ionians. On the monuments, we find Greek and Karian names
alternating in the same families, and there is therefore no reason to
suppose that Thales was anything else than an ordinary Milesian citizen,
though perhaps with Karian blood in his veins.[59]

Footnote 55:

  Simplicius, indeed, quotes from Theophrastos the statement that Thales
  had many predecessors (_Dox._ p. 475, 11). This, however, need not
  trouble us; for the scholiast on Apollonios Rhodios (ii. 1248) tells
  us that Theophrastos made Prometheus the first philosopher, which is
  merely an application of Peripatetic literalism to a remark of Plato’s
  (_Phileb._ 16 c 6). Cf. Appendix, § 2.

Footnote 56:

  Herod. i. 170 (R. P. 9 d.); Diog. i. 22 (R. P. 9).

Footnote 57:

  Strabo, xiv. pp. 633, 636; Pausan. vii. 2, 7. Priene was called Kadme,
  and the oldest annalist of Miletos bore the name Kadmos. See E. Meyer,
  _Gesch. des Alterth._ ii. § 158.

Footnote 58:

  Diog. i. 23, Καλλίμαχος δ’ αὐτὸν οἶδεν εὑρετὴν τῆς ἄρκτου τῆς μικρᾶς
  λέγων ἐν τοῖς Ἰάμβοις οὕτως—

                  καὶ τῆς ἁμάξης ἐλέγετο σταθμήσασθαι
                  τοὺς ἀστερίσκους, ᾗ πλέουσι Φοίνικες.

Footnote 59:

  See Diels, “Thales ein Semite?” (_Arch._ ii. 165 sqq.), and Immisch,
  “Zu Thales Abkunft” (_ib._ p. 515). The name Examyes occurs also in
  Kolophon (Hermesianax, _Leontion_, fr. 2, 38 Bgk.), and may be
  compared with other Karian names such as Cheramyes and Panamyes.

[Sidenote: The eclipse foretold by Thales.]

3. By far the most remarkable statement that Herodotos makes about
Thales is that he foretold the eclipse of the sun which put an end to
the war between the Lydians and the Medes.[60] Now, we may be sure that
he was quite ignorant of the true cause of eclipses. Anaximander and his
successors certainly were so,[61] and it is incredible that the right
explanation should once have been given and then forgotten so soon. Even
supposing, however, Thales had known the cause of eclipses, no one can
believe that such scraps of elementary geometry as he picked up in Egypt
would enable him to calculate one from the elements of the moon’s path.
Yet the evidence for the prediction is too strong to be rejected
off-hand. The testimony of Herodotos to an event which must have
happened about a hundred years before his own birth may, perhaps, be
deemed insufficient; but that of Xenophanes is a very different matter,
and it is this we have really to deal with.[62] According to
Theophrastos, Xenophanes was a disciple of Anaximander, and he may quite
well have seen and spoken with Thales. In any case, he must have known
scores of people who were able to remember what happened, and he had no
conceivable interest in misrepresenting it. The prediction of the
eclipse is really better attested than any other fact about Thales
whatsoever, and the evidence for it is about as strong as for anything
that happened in the early part of the sixth century B.C.

Footnote 60:

  Herod. i. 74.

Footnote 61:

  For the theories held by Anaximander and Herakleitos, see _infra_, §§
  19, 71.

Footnote 62:

  Diog. i. 23, δοκεῖ δὲ κατά τινας πρῶτος ἀστρολογῆσαι καὶ ἡλιακὰς
  ἐκλείψεις καὶ τροπὰς προειπεῖν, ὥς φησιν Εὔδημος ἐν τῇ περὶ τῶν
  ἀστρολογουμένων ἱστορίᾳ, ὅθεν αὐτὸν καὶ Ξενοφάνης καὶ Ἡρόδοτος
  θαυμάζει.

Now it is quite possible to predict eclipses without knowing their true
cause, and there is no doubt that the Babylonians actually did so. On
the basis of their astronomical observations, they had made out a cycle
of 223 lunar months, within which eclipses of the sun and moon recurred
at equal intervals of time.[63] This, it is true, would not enable them
to predict eclipses of the sun for a given spot on the earth’s surface;
for these phenomena are not visible at all places where the sun is above
the horizon at the time. We do not occupy a position at the centre of
the earth, and what astronomers call the geocentric parallax has to be
taken into account. It would only, therefore, be possible to tell by
means of the cycle that an eclipse of the sun would be visible
somewhere, and that it might be worth while to look out for it. Now, if
we may judge from a report by a Chaldaean astronomer which has been
preserved, this was just the position of the Babylonians. They watched
for eclipses at the proper dates; and, if they did not occur, they
announced the fact as a good omen.[64] To explain what we are told about
Thales no more than this is required. He simply said there would be an
eclipse; and, as good luck would have it, it was visible in Asia Minor,
and on a striking occasion.

Footnote 63:

  The first to call attention to the Chaldaean cycle in this connexion
  seems to have been the Rev. George Costard, Fellow of Wadham College.
  See his _Dissertation on the Use of Astronomy in History_ (London,
  1764), p. 17. It is inaccurate to call it the _Saros_; that was quite
  another thing (see Ginzel, _Klio_, i. p. 377).

[Sidenote: Date of Thales.]

4. The prediction of the eclipse does not, then, throw much light upon
the scientific attainments of Thales; but, if we can fix its date, it
will give us a point from which to start in trying to determine the time
at which he lived. Modern astronomers have calculated that there was an
eclipse of the sun, probably visible in Asia Minor, on May 28 (O.S.),
585 B.C.,[65] while Pliny gives the date of the eclipse foretold by
Thales as Ol. XLVIII. 4 (585/4 B.C.).[66] This, it is true, does not
exactly tally; for May 585 belongs to the year 586/5 B.C. It is
sufficiently near, however, to justify us in identifying the eclipse as
that of Thales, and this is confirmed by Apollodoros, who fixed his
_floruit_ in the same year.[67] The further statement that, according to
Demetrios Phalereus, Thales “received the name of wise” in the
archonship of Damasias at Athens, agrees very well with this, and is
doubtless based on the story of the Delphic tripod; for the archonship
of Damasias is the era of the restoration of the Pythian Games.[68]

Footnote 64:

  See George Smith, _Assyrian Discoveries_ (1875), p. 409. The
  inscription which follows was found at Kouyunjik:—

              “To the king my lord, thy servant Abil-Istar.

                  *       *       *       *       *

  “Concerning the eclipse of the moon of which the king my lord sent to
  me; in the cities of Akkad, Borsippa, and Nipur, observations they
  made, and then in the city of Akkad, we saw part.... The observation
  was made, and the eclipse took place.

                  *       *       *       *       *

  “And when for the eclipse of the sun we made an observation, the
  observation was made and it did not take place. That which I saw with
  my eyes to the king my lord I send.”

Footnote 65:

  For the literature of this subject, see R. P. 8 b, adding Ginzel,
  _Spezieller Kanon_, p. 171. See also Milhaud, _Science grecque_, p.
  62.

Footnote 66:

  Pliny, _N.H._ ii. 53.

Footnote 67:

  For Apollodoros, see Appendix, § 20. The dates in our text of Diogenes
  (i. 37; R. P. 8) cannot be reconciled with one another. That given for
  the death of Thales is probably right; for it is the year before the
  fall of Sardeis in 546/5 B.C., which is one of the regular eras used
  by Apollodoros. It no doubt seemed natural to make Thales die the year
  before the “ruin of Ionia” which he foresaw. Seventy-eight years
  before this brings us to 625/4 B.C. for the birth of Thales, and this
  gives us 585/4 B.C. for his fortieth year. That is Pliny’s date for
  the eclipse, and Pliny’s dates come from Apollodoros through Nepos.
  For a full discussion of the subject, see Jacoby, pp. 175 sqq.

Footnote 68:

  Diog. i. 22 (R. P. 9). I do not discuss the Pythian era and the date
  of Damasias here, though it appears to me that the last word has not
  yet been said upon the subject. Jacoby (pp. 170 sqq.) argues strongly
  for 582/1, the date now generally accepted. Others favour the Pythian
  year 586/5 B.C., which is the very year of the eclipse, and this would
  help to explain how those historians who used Apollodoros came to date
  it a year too late; for Damasias was archon for two years and two
  months. It is even possible that they misunderstood the words Δαμασίου
  τοῦ δευτέρου, which are intended to distinguish him from an earlier
  archon of the same name, as meaning “in the second year of Damasias.”
  Apollodoros gave only Athenian archons, and the reduction to Olympiads
  is the work of later writers. Kirchner, adopting the year 582/1 for
  Damasias, brings the archonship of Solon down to 591/0 (_Rh. Mus._
  liii. pp. 242 sqq.). But the date of Solon’s archonship can never have
  been doubtful. On Kirchner’s reckoning, we come to 586/5 B.C., if we
  keep the traditional date of Solon. See also E. Meyer, _Forschungen_,
  ii. pp. 242 sqq.

[Sidenote: Thales in Egypt.]

5. The introduction of Egyptian geometry into Hellas is universally
ascribed to Thales, and it is extremely probable that he did visit
Egypt; for he had a theory of the inundations of the Nile. In a
well-known passage,[69] Herodotos gives three explanations of the fact
that this alone of all rivers rises in summer and falls in winter; but,
as his custom is in such cases, he does not name their authors. The
first of them, however, that which attributes the floods to the Etesian
winds, is ascribed to Thales in the _Placita_,[70] and also by many
later writers. Now, those statements are derived from a treatise on the
Rise of the Nile attributed to Aristotle and known to the Greek
commentators, but now extant only in a Latin epitome of the thirteenth
century.[71] In this work the first of the three theories mentioned by
Herodotos is ascribed to Thales, the second to Euthymenes of Massalia,
and the third to Anaxagoras. Where did Aristotle, or whoever wrote the
book, get these names? We think naturally once more of Hekataios, whom
Herodotos so often reproduces without mentioning his name; and this
conjecture is much strengthened when we find that Hekataios actually
mentioned Euthymenes.[72] We may conclude, then, that Thales really was
in Egypt; and, perhaps, that Hekataios, in describing the Nile, took
account, as was only natural, of his distinguished fellow-citizen’s
views.

Footnote 69:

  Herod. ii. 20.

Footnote 70:

  Aet. iv. I. 1 (_Dox._ p. 384).

Footnote 71:

  _Dox._ pp. 226-229. The Latin epitome will be found in Rose’s edition
  of the Aristotelian fragments.

Footnote 72:

  Hekataios, fr. 278 (_F.H.G._ i. p. 19).

[Sidenote: Thales and geometry.]

6. As to the nature and extent of the mathematical knowledge brought
back by Thales from Egypt, it seems desirable to point out that many
writers have seriously misunderstood the character of the tradition.[73]
In his commentary on the First Book of Euclid, Proclus enumerates, on
the authority of Eudemos, certain propositions which he says were known
to Thales.[74] One of the theorems with which he credits him is that two
triangles are equal when they have one side and the two adjacent angles
equal. This he must have known, said Eudemos, as otherwise he could not
have measured the distances of ships at sea from a watch-tower in the
way he was said to have done.[75] Here we see how all these statements
arose. Certain remarkable feats in the way of measurement were
traditionally ascribed to Thales, and it was assumed that he must have
known all the propositions which these imply. But this is quite an
illusory method of inference. Both the measurement of the distance of
ships at sea, and that of the height of the pyramids, which is also
ascribed to him,[76] are easy applications of what Aahmes calls the
_seqt_. These rules of mensuration may well have been brought from Egypt
by Thales, but we have no ground for supposing that he knew any more
about their _rationale_ than did the author of the Rhind papyrus.
Perhaps, indeed, he gave them a wider application than the Egyptians had
done. Still, mathematics, properly so called, did not come into
existence till some time after Thales.

Footnote 73:

  See Cantor, _Vorlesungen über Geschichte der Mathematik_, vol. i. pp.
  112 sqq.; Allman, “Greek Geometry from Thales to Euclid”
  (_Hermathena_, iii. pp. 164-174).

Footnote 74:

  Proclus, _in Eucl._ pp. 65, 7; 157, 10; 250, 20; 299, 1; 352, 14;
  (Friedlein). Eudemos wrote the first histories of astronomy and
  mathematics, just as Theophrastos wrote the first history of
  philosophy.

Footnote 75:

  Proclus, p. 352, 14, Εὔδημος δὲ ἐν ταῖς γεωμετρικαῖς ἱστορίαις εἰς
  Θαλῆν τοῦτο ἀνάγει τὸ θεώρημα (_Eucl._ i. 26)· τὴν γὰρ τῶν ἐν θαλάττῃ
  πλοίων ἀπόστοσιν δι’ οὗ τρόπου φασὶν αὐτὸν δεικνύναι τούτῳ προσχρῆσθαί
  φησιν ἀναγκαῖον. For the method adopted by Thales, see Tannery,
  _Géométrie grecque_, p. 90. I agree, however, with Dr. Gow (_Short
  History of Greek Mathematics_, § 84) that it is very unlikely Thales
  reproduced and measured on land the enormous triangle which he had
  constructed in a perpendicular plane over the sea. Such a method would
  be too cumbrous to be of use. It is much simpler to suppose that he
  made use of the Egyptian _seqt_.

Footnote 76:

  The oldest version of this story is given in Diog. i. 27, ὁ δὲ
  Ἱερώνυμος καὶ ἐκμετρῆσαί φησιν αὐτὸν τὰς πυραμίδας, ἐκ τῆς σκιᾶς
  παρατηρήσαντα ὅτε ἡμῖν ἰσομεγέθης ἐστίν. Cf. Pliny, _H. Nat._ xxxvi.
  82, _mensuram altitudinis earum deprehendere invenit Thales Milesius
  umbram metiendo qua hora par esse corpori solet_. (Hieronymos of
  Rhodes was contemporary with Eudemos.) This need imply no more than
  the simple reflexion that the shadows of all objects will probably be
  equal to the objects at the same hour. Plutarch (_Conv. sept. sap._
  147 a) gives a more elaborate method, τὴν βακτηρίαν στήσας ἐπὶ τῷ
  πέρατι τῆς σκιᾶς ἣν ἡ πυραμὶς ἐποίει, γενομένων τῇ ἐπαφῇ τῆς ἀκτῖνος
  δυοῖν τριγώνων, ἔδειξας ὃν ἡ σκιὰ πρὸς τὴν σκιὰν λόγον εἶχε, τὴν
  πυραμίδα πρὸς τὴν βακτηρίαν ἔχουσαν. This, as Dr. Gow points out, is
  only another calculation of _seqt_, and may very well have been the
  method of Thales.

[Sidenote: Thales as a politician.]

7. Thales appears once more in the pages of Herodotos some time before
the fall of the Lydian empire. He is said to have urged the Ionian
Greeks to unite in a federal state with its capital at Teos.[77] We
shall have occasion to notice more than once in the sequel that the
early schools of philosophy were in the habit of trying to influence the
course of political events; and there are many things, for instance the
part played by Hekataios in the Ionian revolt, which point to the
conclusion that the scientific men of Miletos took up a very decided
position in the stirring times that followed the death of Thales. It is
this political action which has gained the founder of the Milesian
school his undisputed place among the Seven Wise Men; and it is owing
mainly to his inclusion among those worthies that the numerous anecdotes
which were told of him in later days attached themselves to his
name.[78]

Footnote 77:

  Herod. i. 170 (R. P. 9 d).

Footnote 78:

  The story of Thales falling into a well (Plato, _Tht._ 174 a) is
  nothing but a fable teaching the uselessness of σοφία; the anecdote
  about the “corner” in oil (Ar. _Pol._ Α, 11. 1259 a 6) is intended to
  inculcate the opposite lesson.

[Sidenote: Uncertain character of the tradition.]

8. If Thales ever wrote anything, it soon was lost, and the works which
were written in his name did not, as a rule, deceive even the
ancients.[79] Aristotle professes to know something about the views of
Thales; but he does not pretend to know how they were arrived at, nor
the arguments by which they were supported. He does, indeed, make
certain suggestions, which are repeated by later writers as statements
of fact; but he himself simply gives them for what they are worth.[80]
There is another difficulty in connexion with the tradition. Many a
precise-looking statement in the _Placita_ has no other foundation than
the habit of ascribing any doctrine which was, roughly speaking,
characteristic of the whole Ionic “Succession” to “Thales and his
followers,” and so producing the appearance of a definite statement
about Thales. But, in spite of all this, we need not doubt that
Aristotle was correctly informed with regard to the leading points. We
have seen traces of reference to Thales in Hekataios, and nothing can be
more likely than that later writers of the school should have quoted the
views of its founder. We may venture, therefore, upon a conjectural
restoration of his cosmology, in which we shall be guided by what we
know for certain of the subsequent development of the Milesian school;
for we should naturally expect to find its characteristic doctrines at
least foreshadowed in the teaching of its earliest representative. But
all this must be taken for just what it is worth; speaking strictly, we
do not know anything about the teaching of Thales at all.

Footnote 79:

  See R. P. 9 e.

Footnote 80:

  R. P. _ib._

[Sidenote: Conjectural account of the cosmology of Thales.]

9. The statements of Aristotle may be reduced to three:

        (1) The earth floats on the water.[81]
        (2) Water is the material cause[82] of all things.
        (3) All things are full of gods. The magnet is alive; for it has
          the power of moving iron.[83]

Footnote 81:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 3. 983 b 21 (R. P. 10); _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 294 a 28
  (R. P. 11). Later writers add that he gave this as an explanation of
  earthquakes (so Aet. iii. 15, 1); but this is probably due to a
  “Homeric allegorist” (Appendix, § 11), who wished to explain the
  epithet ἐννοσίγαιος. Cf. Diels, _Dox._ p. 225.

Footnote 82:

  _Met._ Α, 3. 983 b 20 (R. P. 10). I have said “material cause,”
  because τῆς τοιαύτης ἀρχῆς (b 19) means τῆς ἐν ὕλης εἴδει ἀρχῆς (b 7).

Footnote 83:

  Arist. _de An._ Α, 5. 411 a 7 (R. P. 13); _ib._ 2. 405 a 19 (R. P. 13
  a). Diog. i. 24 (R. P. _ib._) adds amber. This comes from Hesychios of
  Miletos; for it occurs in the scholium of Par. A on Plato, _Rep._ 600
  a.

The first of these statements must be understood in the light of the
second, which is expressed in Aristotelian terminology, but would
undoubtedly mean that Thales had said water was the fundamental or
primary thing, of which all other things were mere transient forms. It
was, we shall see, just such a primary substance that the Milesian
school as a whole was seeking, and it is unlikely that the earliest
answer to the great question of the day should have been the
comparatively subtle one given by Anaximander. We are, perhaps,
justified in holding that the greatness of Thales consisted in this,
that he was the first to ask, not what _was_ the original thing, but
what _is_ the primary thing now; or, more simply still, “What is the
world made of?” The answer he gave to this question was: _Water_.

[Sidenote: Water.]

10. Aristotle and Theophratos, followed by Simplicius and the
doxographers, suggest several explanations of this answer. By Aristotle
these explanations are given as conjectural; it is only later writers
that repeat them as if they were quite certain.[84] The most probable
view of them seems to be that Aristotle simply ascribed to Thales the
arguments used at a later date by Hippon of Samos in support of a
similar thesis.[85] This would account for their physiological
character. The rise of scientific medicine had made biological arguments
very popular in the fifth century; but, in the days of Thales, the
prevailing interest was not physiological, but rather what we should
call meteorological, and it is therefore from this point of view we must
try to understand the theory.

Footnote 84:

  _Met._ Α, 3. 983 b 22; Aet. i. 3, 1; Simpl. _Phys._ p. 36, 10 (R. P.
  10, 12, 12 a). The last of the explanations given by Aristotle,
  namely, that Thales was influenced by early cosmogonical theories
  about Okeanos and Tethys, has strangely been supposed to be more
  historical than the rest, whereas it is merely a fancy of Plato’s
  taken literally. Plato says more than once (_Tht._ 180 d 2; _Crat._
  402 b 4) that Herakleitos and his predecessors (οἱ ῥέοντες) derived
  their philosophy from Homer (_Il._ xiv. 201), and even earlier sources
  (Orph. frag. 2, Diels, _Vors._ 1st ed. p. 491). In quoting this
  suggestion, Aristotle refers it to “some”—a word which often means
  Plato—and he calls the originators of the theory παμπαλαίους, as Plato
  had done (_Met._ 983 b 28; cf. _Tht._ 181 b 3). This is a
  characteristic example of the way in which Aristotle gets history out
  of Plato. See Appendix, § 2.

Footnote 85:

  Compare Arist. _de An._ Α, 2. 405 b 2 (R. P. 220) with the passages
  referred to in the last note. The same suggestion is made in Zeller’s
  fifth edition (p. 188, n. 1), which I had not seen when the above was
  written. Döring, “Thales” (_Zschr. f. Philos._ 1896, pp. 179 sqq.),
  takes the same view. We now know that, though Aristotle declines to
  consider Hippon as a philosopher (_Met._ Α, 3. 984 a 3; R. P. 219 a),
  he was discussed in the history of medicine known as Menon’s
  _Iatrika_. See Diels in _Hermes_, xxviii. p. 420.

Now it is not very hard to see how considerations of a meteorological
kind may have led Thales to adopt the view he did. Of all the things we
know, water seems to take the most various shapes. It is familiar to us
in a solid, a liquid, and a vaporous form, and so Thales may well have
thought that he saw the world-process from water and back to water again
going on before his very eyes. The phenomenon of evaporation naturally
suggests everywhere that the fire of the heavenly bodies is kept up by
the moisture which they draw from the sea. Even at the present day, the
country people speak of the appearance of sunbeams as “the sun drawing
water.” Water comes down again in the rain; and lastly, so the early
cosmologists thought, it turns to earth. This seems strange to us, but
it may have seemed natural enough to men who were familiar with the
river of Egypt which had formed the Delta, and with the torrents of Asia
Minor, which bring down unusually large alluvial deposits. At the
present day the Gulf of Latmos, on which Miletos used to stand, is
completely filled up. Lastly, they thought, earth turns once more to
water—an idea derived from the observation of dew, night-mists, and
subterranean springs. For these last were not in early times supposed to
have anything at all to do with the rain. The “waters under the earth”
were regarded as an entirely independent source of moisture.[86]

Footnote 86:

  The view here taken most resembles that of the “Homeric allegorist”
  Herakleitos (R. P. 12 a). That, however, is also a conjecture,
  probably of Stoic, as the others are of Peripatetic, origin.

[Sidenote: Theology.]

11. The third of the statements mentioned above is supposed by Aristotle
himself to imply that Thales believed in a “soul of the world,” though
he is careful to mark this as no more than an inference.[87] The
doctrine of the world-soul is then attributed quite positively to Thales
by Aetios, who gives it in the Stoic phraseology which he found in his
immediate source, and identifies the world-intellect with God.[88]
Cicero found a similar account of the matter in the Epicurean manual
which he followed, but he goes a step further. Eliminating the Stoic
pantheism, he turns the world-intellect into a Platonic _demiourgos_,
and says that Thales held there was a divine mind which formed all
things out of water.[89] All this is derived from the cautious statement
of Aristotle, and can have no greater authority than its source. We need
not enter, then, upon the old controversy whether Thales was an atheist
or not. It is really irrelevant. If we may judge from his successors, he
may very possibly have called water divine; but, if he had any religious
beliefs at all, we may be sure they were quite unconnected with his
cosmological theory.

Footnote 87:

  Arist. _de An._ Α, 5. 411 a 7 (R. P. 13).

Footnote 88:

  Aet. i. 7, 11 = Stob. i. 56 (R. P. 14). On the sources here referred
  to, see Appendix, §§ 11, 12.

Footnote 89:

  Cicero, _de Nat. D._ 1. 25 (R. P. 13 b). On Cicero’s source, see
  _Dox._ pp. 125, 128. The Herculanean papyrus of Philodemos is,
  unfortunately, defective just at this point, but it is not likely that
  the Epicurean manual anticipated Cicero’s mistake.

Nor must we make too much of the saying itself that “all things are full
of gods.” It is often supposed to mean that Thales attributed a “plastic
life” to matter, or that he was a “hylozoist.” We have seen already how
misleading this way of speaking is apt to be,[90] and we shall do well
to avoid it. It is not safe to regard such an apophthegm as evidence for
anything; the chances are that it belongs to Thales as one of the Seven
Wise Men, rather than as founder of the Milesian school. Further, such
sayings are, as a rule, anonymous to begin with, and are attributed now
to one sage and now to another.[91] On the other hand, it is extremely
probable that Thales did say that the magnet and amber had souls. That
is no apophthegm, but something more on the level of the statement that
the earth floats on the water. It is, in fact, just the sort of thing we
should expect Hekataios to record about Thales. It would be wrong,
however, to draw any inferences from it as to his view of the world; for
to say that the magnet and amber are alive is to imply, if anything,
that other things are not.[92]

Footnote 90:

  See Introd. § VIII.

Footnote 91:

  Plato refers to the saying πάντα πλήρη θεῶν in _Laws_, 899 b 9 (R. P.
  14 b), without mentioning Thales. That ascribed to Herakleitos in the
  _de part. An._ Α, 5. 645 a 17 seems to be a mere variation on it. So
  in Diog. ix. 7 (R. P. 46 d) Herakleitos is credited with the saying
  πάντα ψυχῶν εἶναι κα δαιμόνων πλήρη.

Footnote 92:

  Bäumker, _Das Problem der Materie_, p. 10, n. 1.


                            II. ANAXIMANDER

[Sidenote: Life.]

12. The next name that has come down to us is that of Anaximander, son
of Praxiades. He too was a citizen of Miletos, and Theophrastos
described him as an “associate” of Thales.[93] We have seen how that
expression is to be understood (§ XIV.).

According to Apollodoros, Anaximander was sixty-four years old in Ol.
LVIII. 2 (547/6 B.C.); and this is confirmed by Hippolytos, who says he
was born in Ol. XLII. 3 (610/9 B.C.), and by Pliny, who assigns his
discovery of the obliquity of the zodiac to the same Olympiad.[94] We
seem to have here something more than a mere combination of the ordinary
type; for, according to all the rules of Alexandrian chronology,
Anaximander should have “flourished” in 565 B.C., that is, just half-way
between Thales and Anaximenes, and this would make him sixty, not
sixty-four, in 546. Now Apollodoros appears to have said that he had met
with the work of Anaximander; and his reason for mentioning this must be
that he found in it some indication which enabled him to fix its date
without having recourse to conjecture. Diels suggests that Anaximander
may have given his age at the time of writing as sixty-four, and that
the book may have contained some other statement showing it to have been
published in 547/6 B.C.[95] Perhaps, however, this hardly does justice
to the fact that the year given is just that which preceded the fall of
Sardeis and the subjugation of the Lydian empire by the Persians. It may
be a more plausible conjecture that Anaximander, writing some years
later, incidentally mentioned what his age had been at the time of that
great crisis. We know from Xenophanes that the question, “How old were
you when the Mede appeared?” was considered an interesting one in those
days.[96] At all events, we seem to be justified in believing that
Anaximander was a generation younger than Thales. When he died we do not
really know.[97]

Footnote 93:

  R. P. 15 d. That the words πολίτης καὶ ἑταῖρος, given by Simplicius,
  _de Caelo_, p. 615, 13, are the original words of Theophrastos is
  shown by the agreement of Cic. _Acad._ ii. 118, _popularis et
  sodalis_. The two passages represent quite independent branches of the
  tradition. See Appendix, §§ 7, 12.

Footnote 94:

  Diog. ii. 2 (R. P. 15); Hipp. _Ref._ i. 6 (_Dox._ p. 560); Plin.
  _N.H._ ii. 31. Pliny’s dates come from Apollodoros through Nepos.

Footnote 95:

  _Rhein. Mus._ xxxi. p. 24.

Footnote 96:

  Xenophanes, fr. 22 (fr. 17, Karsten; R. P. 95 a). Jacoby (p. 190)
  thinks that Apollodoros fixed the _floruit_ of Anaximander forty years
  before that of Pythagoras, that is, in 572/1 B.C., and that the
  statement as to his age in 547/6 is a mere inference from this.

Footnote 97:

  The statement that he “died soon after” (Diog. ii. 2; R. P. 15) seems
  to mean that Apollodoros made him die in the year of Sardeis (546/5),
  one of his regular epochs. If this is so, Apollodoros cannot have said
  also that he flourished in the days of Polykrates, and Diels is
  probably right in supposing that this notice refers to Pythagoras and
  has been inserted in the wrong place.

Like his predecessor, Anaximander distinguished himself by certain
practical inventions. Some writers credited him with that of the
_gnomon_; but that can hardly be correct. Herodotos tells us this
instrument came from Babylon, so perhaps it was Anaximander who made it
known among the Greeks. He was also the first to construct a map, and
Eratosthenes said this was the map elaborated by Hekataios.[98]

Footnote 98:

  For the gnomon, see Introd. p. 31, _n._ 44; and cf. Diog. ii. 1 (R. P.
  15); Herod. ii. 109 (R. P. 15 a). Pliny, on the other hand, ascribes
  the invention of the gnomon to Anaximenes (_N.H._ ii. 87). The truth
  seems to be that the erection of celebrated gnomons was traditionally
  ascribed to certain philosophers. That of Delos was referred to
  Pherekydes. For the map see Agathemeros, i. 1, Ἀναξίμανδρος ὁ Μιλήσιος
  ἀκουστὴς Θαλέω πρώτος ἐτόλμησε τὴν οἰκουμένην ἐν πίνακι γράψαι, μεθ’
  ὃν Ἑκαταῖος ὁ Μιλήσιος ἀνὴρ πολυπλανὴς διηκρίβωσεν, ὥστε θαυμασθῆναι
  τὸ πρᾶγμα. This is from Eratosthenes. Cf. Strabo, i. p. 7.

[Sidenote: Theophrastos on Anaximander’s theory of the primary
           substance.]

13. Nearly all we know of Anaximander’s system is derived in the last
resort from Theophrastos.[99] As to the credibility of what we are told
on his authority, it is enough to remark that the original work, which
was in the hands of Apollodoros, must certainly have existed in the time
of Theophrastos. Moreover, he seems once at least to have quoted
Anaximander’s own words, and he criticised his style. Here are the
remains of what he said of him in the First Book:—

  Anaximander of Miletos, son of Praxiades, a fellow-citizen and
  associate of Thales,[100] said that the material cause and first
  element of things was the Infinite, he being the first to introduce
  this name for the material cause. He says it is neither water nor any
  other of the so-called[101] elements, but a substance different from
  them which is infinite, from which arise all the heavens and the
  worlds within them.—_Phys. Op._ fr. 2 (_Dox._ p. 476; R. P. 16).

  He says that this is eternal and ageless, and that it encompasses all
  the worlds.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 6 (R. P. 17 a).

  And into that from which things take their rise they pass away once
  more, “as is ordained; for they make reparation and satisfaction to
  one another for their injustice according to the appointed time,” as
  he says[102] in these somewhat poetical terms.—_Phys. Op._ fr. 2 (R.
  P. 16).

  And besides this, there was an eternal motion, in the course of which
  was brought about the origin of the worlds.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 6 (R. P.
  17 a).

  He did not ascribe the origin of things to any alteration in matter,
  but said that the oppositions in the substratum, which was a boundless
  body, were separated out.—Simpl. _Phys._ p. 150, 20 (R. P. 18).

Footnote 99:

  See the conspectus of extracts from Theophrastos given by Diels,
  _Dox._ p. 133; _Vors._ pp. 13 sqq. In this and other cases, where the
  words of the original have been preserved by Simplicius, I have given
  them alone. On the various writers quoted, see Appendix, § 9 sqq.

Footnote 100:

  Simplicius says “successor and disciple” (διάδοχος καὶ μαθητής) in his
  Commentary on the _Physics_; but see above, p. 52, n. 2.

Footnote 101:

  For the expression τὰ καλούμενα στοιχεῖα, see Diels, _Elementum_, p.
  25, n. 4. In view of this, we must keep the MS. reading εἶναι, instead
  of writing νυνί with Usener.

Footnote 102:

  Diels (_Vors._ p. 13) begins the actual quotation with the words ἐξ ὧν
  δὲ ἡ γένεσις.... The Greek practice of blending quotations with the
  text tells against this. It is very rare for a Greek writer to open a
  verbal quotation abruptly. Further, it is safer not to ascribe the
  terms γένεσις and φθορά in their technical Platonic sense to
  Anaximander.

[Sidenote: The primary substance is not one of the “elements.”]

14. Anaximander taught, then, that there was one eternal, indestructible
substance out of which everything arises, and into which everything once
more returns; a boundless stock from which the waste of existence is
continually being made good. This is only the natural development of the
thought we have ventured to ascribe to Thales, and there can be no doubt
that Anaximander at least distinctly formulated it. Indeed, we can still
follow to some extent the reasoning which led him to do so. Thales had
regarded water as the most likely of all the things we know to be that
of which all others are forms; Anaximander appears to have asked himself
how the primary substance could be one of these particular things. His
argument seems to be preserved by Aristotle, who has the following
passage in his discussion of the Infinite:—

  Further, there cannot be a single, simple body which is infinite,
  either, as some hold, one distinct from the elements, which they then
  derive from it, nor without this qualification. For there are some who
  make this (_i.e._ a body distinct from the elements) the infinite, and
  not air or water, in order that the other things may not be destroyed
  by their infinity. _They are in opposition one to another_—air is
  cold, water moist, and fire hot—and therefore, _if any one of them
  were infinite, the rest would have ceased to be by this time_.
  Accordingly they say that what is infinite is something other than the
  elements, and from it the elements arise.—Arist. _Phys._ Γ, 5. 204 b
  22 (R. P. 16 b).

It is clear that in this passage Anaximander is contrasted with Thales
and with Anaximenes. Nor is there any reason to doubt that the account
given of his reasoning is substantially correct, though the form is
Aristotle’s own, and the mention of “elements” is an anachronism.[103]
Anaximander was struck, it would seem, by the opposition and strife
between the things which go to make up the world; the warm fire was
opposed to the cold air, the dry earth to the moist sea. These opposites
were at war, and any predominance of one over the other was an
“injustice” for which they must make reparation to one another.[104] We
may suppose that his thoughts ran somewhat as follows. If Thales had
been right in saying that water was the fundamental reality, it would
not be easy to see how anything else could ever have existed. One side
of the opposition, the cold and moist, would have had its way unchecked,
injustice would have prevailed, and the warm and dry would have been
driven from the field long ago. We must, then, have something which is
not itself one of the warring opposites we know, something more
primitive, out of which they arise, and into which they once more pass
away. That Anaximander called this something by the name of φύσις, is
clear from the doxographers; the current statement that the word ἀρχή in
the sense of a “first principle” was introduced by him, is probably due
to a misunderstanding of what Theophrastos said.[105]

Footnote 103:

  The conception of elements is not older than Empedokles (§ 106), and
  the _word_ στοιχεῖα, which is properly translated by _elementa_, was
  first used in this sense by Plato. For the history of the term, see
  Diels, _Elementum_ (1899).

Footnote 104:

  The important word ἀλλήλοις was omitted in the Aldine Simplicius, but
  is in all the MSS. We shall see that in Herakleitos “justice” means
  the observance of an equal balance between what were called later the
  elements (§ 72). See also Introd. p. 32, _n._ 45.

Footnote 105:

  If the words quoted from Theophrastos by Simplicius, _Phys._ p. 24, 15
  (R. P. 16), stood by themselves, no one would ever have supposed them
  to mean that Anaximander called the Boundless ἀρχή. They would
  naturally be rendered: “having been the first to introduce this name
  (_i.e._ τὸ ἄπειρον) for the ἀρχή”; but the words of Hippolytos (_Ref._
  i. 6, 2), πρῶτος τοὔνομα καλέσας τῆς ἀρχῆς, have led nearly all
  writers to take the passage in the less obvious sense. We now know,
  however, that Hippolytos is no independent authority, but rests
  altogether on Theophrastos; so the natural view to take is that either
  his immediate source, or he himself, or a copyist, has dropped out
  τοῦτο before τοὔνομα, and corrupted κομίσας into καλέσας. It is not
  credible that Theophrastos made both statements. The other passage
  from Simplicius compared by Usener (p. 150, 23), πρῶτος αὐτὸς ἀρχὴν
  ὀνομάσας τὸ ὑποκείμενον, does not seem to me to have anything to do
  with the question. It means simply that Anaximander was the first to
  name the substratum as the “material cause,” which is a different
  point altogether. This is how Neuhäuser takes the passage
  (_Anaximander_, pp. 7 sqq.); but I cannot agree with him in holding
  that the _word_ ὑποκείμενον is ascribed to the Milesian.

[Sidenote: Aristotle’s account of the theory.]

15. It was natural for Aristotle to regard this theory as an
anticipation or presentiment of his own doctrine of “indeterminate
matter.”[106] He knew very well, of course, that he himself was the
author of that; but it is in accordance with his method to represent his
own theories as the distinct formulation of truths which earlier
thinkers had only guessed at. It was to be expected, then, that he
should sometimes express the views of Anaximander in terms of the theory
of “elements.” He knew too that the Boundless was a body,[107] though in
his own system there was no room for anything corporeal prior to the
elements; so he had to speak of it as a boundless body “alongside of” or
“distinct from” the elements (παρὰ τὰ στοιχεῖα). So far as I know, no
one has doubted that, when he uses this phrase, he is referring to
Anaximander.

Footnote 106:

  Arist. _Met._ Λ, 2. 1069 b 18 (R. P. 16 c).

Footnote 107:

  This is taken for granted in _Phys._ Γ, 4. 203 a 16; 204 b 22 (R. P.
  16 b), and stated in Γ, 8. 208 a 8 (R. P. 16 a). Cf. Simpl. _Phys._ p.
  150, 20 (R. P. 18).

In a number of other places Aristotle speaks of a thinker, whom he does
not happen to name, who held that the primary substance was something
“intermediate between” the elements or between two of them.[108] Nearly
all the Greek commentators referred this to Anaximander also, but most
modern writers refuse to follow them. It is, no doubt, easy to show that
Anaximander can have never meant to describe the Boundless in this way,
but that is no real objection to the older interpretation. It is
difficult to see that it is more of an anachronism to call the Boundless
“intermediate between the elements” than to say that it is “distinct
from the elements”; and indeed, if once we introduce the elements at
all, the former description is in some ways the more adequate of the
two. At any rate, if we refuse to understand these passages as referring
to Anaximander, we shall have to say that Aristotle paid a great deal of
attention to some early thinker, whose very name has been lost, and who
not only agreed with some of Anaximander’s views, but also, as is shown
by one passage, used some of his most characteristic expressions.[109]
We may add that in one or two places Aristotle certainly seems to
identify the “intermediate” with the something “distinct from” the
elements.[110]

Footnote 108:

  Aristotle speaks four times of something intermediate between Fire and
  Air (_Gen. Corr._ Β, 1. 328 b 35; _ib._ 5. 332 a 21; _Phys._ Α, 4. 187
  a 14; _Met._ Α, 7. 988 a 30). In five places we have something
  intermediate between Water and Air (_Met._ Α, 7. 988 a 13; _Gen.
  Corr._ Β, 5. 332 a 21; _Phys._ Γ, 4. 203 a 18; _ib._ 5. 205 a 27; _de
  Caelo_, Γ, 5. 303 b 12). Once (_Phys._ Α, 6. 189 b 1) we hear of
  something between Water and Fire. This variation shows at once that he
  is not speaking historically. If any one ever held the doctrine of τὸ
  μεταξύ, he must have known perfectly well which two elements he meant.

Footnote 109:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Γ, 5. 303 b 12, ὕδατος μὲν λεπτότερον, ἀέρος
  πυκνότερον, ὃ περιέχειν φασὶ πάντας τοὺς οὐρανοὺς ἄπειρον ὄν. That
  this refers to Idaios of Himera, as suggested by Zeller (p. 258),
  seems very improbable. Aristotle nowhere mentions his name, and the
  tone of his reference to Hippon in _Met._ Α, 3. 984 a 3 (R. P. 219 a)
  shows that he was not likely to pay so much attention to the ἐπίγονοι
  of the Milesian school.

Footnote 110:

  Cf. _Phys._ Γ, 5. 204 b 22 (R. P. 16 b), where Zeller rightly refers
  τὸ παρὰ τὰ στοιχεῖα to Anaximander. Now, at the end (205 a 25) the
  whole passage is summarised thus: καὶ διὰ τοῦτ’ οὐθεὶς τὸ ἓν καὶ
  ἄπειρον πῦρ ἐποίησεν οὐδὲ γῆν τῶν φυσιολόγων, ἀλλ’ ἢ ὕδωρ ἢ ἀέρα ἢ τὸ
  μέσον αὐτῶν. In _Gen. Corr._ Β, 1. 328 b 35 we have first τι μεταξὺ
  τούτων σῶμά τε ὂν καὶ χωριστόν, and a little further on (329 a 9) μίαν
  ὕλην παρὰ τὰ εἰρημένα. In Β, 5. 332 a 20 we have οὐ μὴν οὐδ’ ἄλλο τί
  γε παρὰ ταῦτα, οἶον μέσον τι ἀέρος καὶ ὕδατος ἢ ἀέρος καὶ πυρός.

There is even one place in which he appears to speak of Anaximander’s
Boundless as a “mixture,” though his words may perhaps admit of another
interpretation.[111] But this is of no consequence for our
interpretation of Anaximander himself. It is certain that he cannot have
said anything about “elements,” which no one thought of before
Empedokles, and no one could think of before Parmenides. The question
has only been mentioned at all because it has been the subject of a
lengthy controversy,[112] and because it throws great light on the
historical value of Aristotle’s statements. From the point of view of
his own system, these are abundantly justified; but we shall have to
remember in other cases that, when he seems to attribute an idea to some
earlier thinker, we are not in the least bound to believe what he says
in a historical sense.

Footnote 111:

  _Met._ Λ, 2. 1069 b 18 (R. P. 16 c). Zeller (p. 205, n. 1) assumes an
  “easy zeugma.” I should prefer to say that καὶ Ἐμπεδοκλέους τὸ μῖγμα
  was an afterthought, and that Aristotle really meant τὸ Ἀναξαγόρου ἓν
  ... καὶ Ἀναξιμάνδρου. _Met._ Α, 4. 187 a 20 does not assign the
  “mixture” to Anaximander.

Footnote 112:

  For the literature of this controversy, see R. P. 15. A good deal of
  light is thrown on this and similar questions by W. A. Heidel,
  “Qualitative Change in Pre-Socratic Philosophy” (_Arch._ xix. p. 333).

[Sidenote: The primary substance is infinite.]

16. Anaximander’s reason for conceiving the primary substance as
boundless was, no doubt, that indicated by Aristotle, namely, “that
becoming might not fail.”[113] It is not likely, however, that these
words are his own, though the doxographers speak as if they were. It is
enough for us to know that Theophrastos, who had seen his book,
attributed the thought to him. And certainly the way in which he
regarded the world would bring home to him with more than common force
the need of a boundless stock of matter. The “opposites” of which our
world consists are, we have seen, at war with one another, and their
strife is marked by “unjust” encroachments on either side. The warm
commits “injustice” in summer, the cold in winter. To redress the
balance, they must be absorbed once more in their common ground; and
this would lead in the long run to the destruction of everything but the
Boundless itself, if there were not an inexhaustible supply of it from
which opposites might continually be separated out afresh. We must
picture to ourselves, then, an endless mass, which is not any one of the
opposites we know, stretching out without limit on every side of the
heavens which bound the world we live in.[114] This mass is a body, and
out of it our world once emerged by the “separating out” of the
opposites, which one day will all be absorbed again in the Boundless,
and our world will cease to be.

Footnote 113:

  _Phys._ Γ, 8. 208 a 8 (R. P. 16 a). That this refers to Anaximander is
  shown by Aet. i. 3, 3 (R. P. 16 a). The same argument is given in
  _Phys._ Γ, 4. 203 b 18, a passage where Anaximander has just been
  quoted by name, τῷ οὕτως ἂν μόνον μὴ ὑπολείπειν γένεσιν καὶ φθοράν, εἰ
  ἄπειρον εἴη ὅθεν ἀφαιρεῖται τὸ γιγνόμενον. I cannot, however, believe
  that the arguments given at the beginning of this chapter (203 b 7; R.
  P. 17) are Anaximander’s. They bear the stamp of the Eleatic
  dialectic, and are, in fact, those of Melissos.

Footnote 114:

  I have assumed that the word ἄπειρον means _spatially infinite_
  (though not in any precise mathematical sense), not _qualitatively
  indeterminate_, as maintained by Teichmüller and Tannery. The decisive
  reasons for holding that the sense of the word is “boundless in
  extent” are as follows: (1) Theophrastos said that the primary
  substance of Anaximander was ἄπειρον and contained all the worlds, and
  the word περιέχειν everywhere means “to encompass,” not, as has been
  suggested, “to contain potentially.” (2) Aristotle says (_Phys._ Γ, 4.
  203 b 23) διὰ γὰρ τὸ ἐν τῇ νοήσει μὴ ὑπολείπειν καὶ ὁ ἀριθμὸς δοκεῖ
  ἄπειρος εἶναι καὶ τὰ μαθηματικὰ μεγέθη καὶ τὰ ἔξω τοῦ οὐρανοῦ· ἀπείρου
  δ’ ὄντος τοῦ ἔξω, καὶ σῶμα ἄπειρον εἶναι δοκεῖ καὶ κόσμοι. (3)
  Anaximander’s theory of the ἄπειρον was adopted by Anaximenes, and he
  identified it with Air, which is not qualitatively indeterminate.

[Sidenote: The eternal motion.]

17. The doxographers say it was the “eternal motion” that brought into
being “all the heavens and all the worlds within them.” As we have seen
(§ VIII), it is not likely that Anaximander himself used the phrase
“eternal motion.” That is rather Aristotle’s own version of what he
found stated about the “separating out” of opposites. We are not told
expressly how Anaximander conceived this to operate, but the term
“separating out” suggests some process of shaking and sifting as in a
sieve. Now it is just such a process that Plato makes the Pythagorean
Timaios describe, and the most probable theory is certainly that here,
as in many other cases, he has reproduced a genuinely early view. As we
shall see, it is quite likely that the Pythagoreans should have followed
Anaximander in this.[115] In any case, it is wrong to identify the
“eternal motion” with the diurnal revolution of the heavens, as has
sometimes been done. That motion cannot possibly be eternal, for the
simple reason that the heavens themselves are perishable. Aristotle
says, indeed, that all who believe the world has come into being
represent the earth as having been forced into the centre by the
circular motion;[116] but, though this doubtless refers to Anaximander
among others, it is quite irrelevant here. It has to do only with the
formation of the world after it has been once for all separated off and
enclosed in its own heaven, and we shall have to remember it when we
come to that part of the theory. At present, we have only to do with the
motion of the Boundless itself; and, if we wish to picture that, it is
much safer to regard it as a sort of shaking up and down which sorts out
the opposites from the infinite mass.

Footnote 115:

  Plato, _Tim._ 52 e, where the elements are separated by being shaken,
  stirred, and carried in different directions: “just as by sieves and
  instruments for winnowing corn, the grain is shaken and sifted, and
  the dense and heavy parts go one way, and the rare and light are
  carried to a different place and settle there.” For the relation of
  Pythagoreanism to Anaximander, see below, § 53.

Footnote 116:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 295 a 9. The identification of the eternal
  motion with the diurnal revolution is insisted on by Teichmüller and
  Tannery, and is the real source of the very unnatural interpretation
  which they give to the word ἄπειρον. It was obviously difficult to
  credit Anaximander with a belief in an infinite body which revolves in
  a circle. The whole theory rests upon a confusion between the finite
  spherical κόσμος within the οὐρανός and the infinite περιέχον outside
  it.

[Sidenote: The innumerable worlds.]

18. We are told more than once that Anaximander believed there were
“innumerable worlds in the Boundless,”[117] and it is now usual to
regard these with Zeller as an infinite series succeeding one another in
time. It may be allowed at once that his disproof of the idea that the
worlds are coexistent and eternal is decisive. To suppose that
Anaximander regarded this or any other world as eternal, is a flat
contradiction of everything we otherwise know, and of the Theophrastean
tradition that he taught the world was perishable. We have, then, to
decide between the view that, though all the worlds are perishable,
there may be an unlimited number of them in existence at the same time,
and the view that a new world never comes into existence till the old
one has passed away. Now, Zeller allows[118] that there is nothing in
the first of these views that is inconsistent with what we know of
Anaximander; but he thinks all the statements which have come down to us
point rather to the second. It seems to me that this is by no means the
case, and, as the matter is of fundamental importance, it will be
necessary to examine the evidence once more.

Footnote 117:

  [Plut.] _Strom._ fr. 2 (R. P. 21 b). The words ἀνακυκλουμένων πάντων
  αὐτῶν are most naturally to be interpreted as referring to an
  ἀνακύκλησις or cycle of γένεσις and φθορά in each of a multitude of
  coexistent worlds. It would be a very strange phrase to use of a
  succession of single worlds.

Footnote 118:

  Zeller, pp. 234 sqq.

In the first place, the doxographical tradition proves that Theophrastos
discussed the views of all the early philosophers as to whether there
was one world or an infinite number, and there can be no doubt that,
when he ascribed “innumerable worlds” to the Atomists, he meant
coexistent and not successive worlds. Now, if he had really classed two
such different views under one head, he would at least have been careful
to point out in what respect they differed, and there is no trace of any
such distinction in our tradition. On the contrary, Anaximander,
Anaximenes, Archelaos, Xenophanes, Diogenes, Leukippos, Demokritos, and
Epicurus are all mentioned together as holding the doctrine of
“innumerable worlds” on all sides of this one,[119] and the only
distinction drawn between their views is that, while Epicurus made the
distances between these worlds unequal, Anaximander said all the worlds
were equidistant.[120] Zeller rejected this evidence, which he supposed
to be merely that of Stobaios, on the ground that we can have no
confidence in a writer who attributes “innumerable worlds” to
Anaximenes, Archelaos, and Xenophanes. With regard to the first two, I
hope to show that the statement is quite correct, and that it is not
even incorrect in the case of the last.[121] In any case, it can be
proved that the passage comes from Aetios,[122] and there is no reason
for doubting that, in the last resort, it is derived from Theophrastos,
though the name of Epicurus may have been added later. This is still
further confirmed by what Simplicius says in his commentary on the
_Physics_.[123]

  Those who assumed innumerable worlds, _e.g._ Anaximander, Leukippos,
  Demokritos, and, at a later date, Epicurus, held that they came into
  being and passed away _ad infinitum_, some always coming into being
  and others passing away.

Footnote 119:

  Aet. ii. 1, 3 (_Dox._ p. 327). Zeller is wrong in understanding κατὰ
  πᾶσαν περιαγωγήν here of the revolution of a cycle. It means simply
  “in every direction we turn,” and so does the alternative reading κατὰ
  πᾶσαν περίστασιν. The six περιστάσεις are πρόσω, ὀπίσω, ἄνω, κάτω,
  δεξιά, ἀριστερά (Nicom. _Introd._ p. 85, 11, Hoche), and Polybios uses
  περίστασις of surrounding space.

Footnote 120:

  Aet. ii. 1, 8 (_Dox._ p. 329), τῶν ἀπείρους ἀποφηναμένων τοὺς κόσμους
  Ἀναξίμανδρος τὸ ἴσον αὐτοὺς ἀπέχειν ἀλλήλων, Ἐπίκουρος ἄνισον εἶναι τὸ
  μεταξὺ τῶν κόσμων διάστημα.

Footnote 121:

  For Anaximenes, see § 30; Xenophanes, § 59; Archelaos, Chap. X.

Footnote 122:

  This is shown by the fact that the list of names is given also by
  Theodoret. See Appendix, § 10.

Footnote 123:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 1121, 5 (R. P. 21 b). Zeller says (p. 234, n. 4)
  that Simplicius elsewhere (_de Caelo_, p. 273 b 43) makes the same
  statement more doubtfully. But the words ὡς δοκεῖ, on which he relies,
  are hardly an expression of doubt, and refer, in any case, to the
  derivation of the doctrine of “innumerable worlds” from that of the
  ἄπειρον, not to the doctrine itself.

It is probable that this too comes from Theophrastos through Alexander.
Simplicius does not invent such things.

We come lastly to a very important statement which Cicero has copied
from Philodemos, the author of the Epicurean treatise on Religion found
at Herculaneum, or perhaps from the immediate source of that work.
“Anaximander’s opinion was,” he makes Velleius say, “that there were
gods who came into being, rising and passing away at long intervals, and
that these were the innumerable worlds”;[124] and this must clearly be
taken along with the statement of Aetios to the effect that, according
to Anaximander, the “innumerable heavens” were gods.[125] Now it is very
much more natural to understand the “long intervals” which Cicero
mentions as intervals of space than as intervals of time;[126] and, if
we take the passage in this way, we have a perfect agreement among all
our authorities.

Footnote 124:

  Cicero, _de Nat. D._ i. 25 (R. P. 21).

Footnote 125:

  Aet. i. 7, 12 (R. P. 21 a). The reading of Stob., ἀπείρους οὐρανούς,
  is guaranteed by the ἀπείρους κόσμους of Cyril, and the ἀπείρους νοῦς
  (_i.e._ οὐνους) of the pseudo-Galen. See _Dox._ p. 11.

It may be added that it is very unnatural to understand the statement
that the Boundless “encompasses all the worlds” of worlds succeeding one
another in time; for on this view there is at a given time only one
world to “encompass.” Moreover, the argument mentioned by Aristotle
that, if what is outside the heavens is infinite, body must be infinite,
and there must be innumerable worlds, can only be understood in this
sense, and is certainly intended to represent the reasoning of the
Milesians; for they were the only cosmologists who held there was a
boundless body outside the heavens.[127] Lastly, we happen to know that
Petron, one of the earliest Pythagoreans, held there were just one
hundred and eighty-three worlds arranged in a triangle,[128] which shows
that views of this sort existed long before the Atomists, and looks like
an attempt to introduce some order into Anaximander’s universe.

Footnote 126:

  It is simplest to suppose that Cicero found διαστήμασιν in his
  Epicurean source, and that is a technical term for the _intermundia_.

Footnote 127:

  Arist. _Phys._ Γ, 4. 203 b 25, ἀπείρου δ’ ὄντος τοῦ ἔξω (sc. τοῦ
  οὐρανοῦ), καὶ σῶμα ἄπειρον εἶναι δοκεῖ καὶ κόσμοι (sc. ἄπειροι). It is
  to be observed that the next words—τί γὰρ μᾶλλον τοῦ κενοῦ ἐνταῦθα ἢ
  ἐνταῦθα;—show clearly that this refers to the Atomists as well; but
  the ἄπειρον σῶμα will not apply to them. The suggestion is rather that
  both those who made the Boundless a body and those who made it a κενόν
  held the doctrine of ἀπειροι κόσμοι in the same sense.

Footnote 128:

  See below, § 53. Cf. Diels, _Elementum_, pp. 63 sqq.

[Sidenote: Origin of the heavenly bodies.]

19. The doxographers have not left us in the dark as to the process by
which the different parts of the world arose from the Boundless. The
following statement comes ultimately from Theophrastos:—

  He says that something capable of begetting hot and cold was separated
  off from the eternal at the origin of this world. From this arose a
  sphere of flame which grew round the air encircling the earth, as the
  bark grows round a tree. When this was torn off and enclosed in
  certain rings, the sun, moon, and stars came into existence.—Ps.-Plut.
  _Strom._ fr. 2 (R. P. 19).

We see from this that when a portion of the Boundless had been separated
off from the rest to form a world, it first of all differentiated itself
into the two opposites, hot and cold. The hot appears as a sphere of
flame surrounding the cold; the cold, as earth with air surrounding it.
We are not told, however, in this extract how the cold came to be
differentiated into earth, air, and water; but there is a passage in
Aristotle’s _Meteorology_ which throws some light on the subject. We
read there:—

  But those who are wiser in the wisdom of men give an origin for the
  sea. At first, they say, all the terrestrial region was moist; and, as
  it was dried up by the sun, the portion of it that evaporated produced
  the winds and the turnings of the sun and moon, while the portion left
  behind was the sea. So they think the sea is becoming smaller by being
  dried up, and that at last it will all be dry.—_Meteor._ Β, 1. 353 b
  5.

                  *       *       *       *       *

  And the same absurdity arises for those who say that the earth and the
  terrestrial part of the world at first were moist, but that air arose
  from the heat of the sun, and that the whole world was thus increased,
  and that this is the cause of winds and the turnings of the
  heavens.[129]—_Ib._ 2. 355 a 21 (R. P. 20 a).

In his commentary on the passage, Alexander tells us that this was the
view of Anaximander and Diogenes; and what he says is amply confirmed by
Anaximander’s theory of the sea as it is given by the doxographers (§
20). We conclude, then, that after the first separation of the hot and
the cold, the heat of the sphere of flame turned part of the moist, cold
interior of the world into air or vapour—it is all one at this date—and
that the expansion of this mist broke up the sphere of flame itself into
rings. I give the theory which he adopted to explain the origin of the
heavenly bodies from these rings as it has been preserved by Hippolytos,
with some supplements from Aetios:—

  The heavenly bodies are wheels of fire separated off from the fire
  which encircles the world, and enclosed in air. And they have
  breathing-holes, certain pipe-like passages at which the heavenly
  bodies are seen. For this reason, too, when the breathing-holes are
  stopped, eclipses occur. And the moon appears now to wax and now to
  wane because of the stopping and opening of the passages. The circle
  of the sun is twenty-seven times the size (of the earth, while that)
  of the moon is eighteen times as large.[130] The sun is highest of
  all, and lowest are the wheels of the fixed stars.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 6
  (R. P. 20).

  Anaximander said the stars were hoop-like compressions of air, full of
  fire, breathing out flames at a certain point from orifices. The sun
  was highest of all, after it came the moon, and below these the fixed
  stars and the planets.—Aetios, ii. 13, 7; 15, 6 (R. P. 19 a).

  Anaximander said the sun was a ring twenty-eight times the size of the
  earth, like a cart-wheel with the felloe hollow and full of fire,
  showing the fire at a certain point, as if through the nozzle of a
  pair of bellows.—Aet. ii. 20, 1 (R. P. 19 a).

  Anaximander said the sun was equal to the earth, but the ring from
  which it breathes out and by which it is carried round was
  twenty-seven times as large as the earth.—Aet. ii. 21, 1 (_Dox._ p.
  351).

  Anaximander said the moon was a ring eighteen times the size of the
  earth....—Aet. ii. 25, 1 (_Dox._ p. 355).[131]

  Anaximander held that thunder and lightning were caused by the blast.
  When it is shut up in a thick cloud and bursts forth with violence,
  then the breakage of the cloud makes the noise, and the rift gives the
  appearance of a flash by contrast with the darkness of the cloud.—Aet.
  iii. 3, 1 (_Dox._ p. 367).

  Anaximander held that wind was a current of air (_i.e._ vapour) which
  arose when its finest and moistest particles were set in motion or
  dissolved by the sun.—Aet. iii. 6, 1 (_Dox._ p. 374).

  Rain was produced by the moisture drawn up from the earth by the
  sun.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 6, 7 (_Dox._ p. 560).

Footnote 129:

  Zeller’s difficulty about the meaning of τροπαί here (p. 223, n. 2)
  seems to be an imaginary one. The moon has certainly a movement in
  declination and, therefore, τροπαί (Dreyer, _Planetary Systems_, p.
  17, n. 1).

Footnote 130:

  I assume with Diels (_Dox._ p. 560) that something has fallen out in
  our text of Hippolytos. I have, however, with Tannery, _Science
  hellène_, p. 91, supplied “eighteen times” rather than “nineteen
  times.” Zeller (p. 224, n. 2) prefers the text of our MS. of
  Hippolytos to the testimony of Aetios.

Footnote 131:

  Aetios goes on to say that the moon also is like a hollow cart-wheel
  full of fire with an ἐκπνοή. The difference in the figures of
  Hippolytos and Aetios is due to the fact that one refers to the
  internal and the other to the external circumferences of the rings.
  Cf. Tannery, _Science hellène_, p. 91; and Diels, “Ueber Anaximanders
  Kosmos” (_Arch._ x. pp. 231 sqq.).

We saw above that the sphere of flame was broken up into rings by the
expansion of the air or vapour that its own heat had drawn up from the
moist, cold interior. We must remember that Anaximander knew nothing of
the ring of Saturn. There are three of these rings, that of the sun,
that of the moon, and, lastly, nearest to the earth, the circle of the
stars. The circle of the sun was twenty-seven times, and that of the
moon eighteen times as large as the earth, from which we may perhaps
infer that the circle of the stars was nine times as large. The numbers
nine, eighteen, twenty-seven, play a considerable part in primitive
cosmogonies.[132] We do not see the rings of fire as complete circles;
for the mist that formed them encloses the fire, and becomes an outer
ring of opaque vapour. These outer rings, however, have openings at one
point of their circumference, through which the fire escapes, and these
are the heavenly bodies we actually see.[133]

Footnote 132:

  As Diels points out (_Arch._ x. p. 229) the explanation given by
  Gomperz, p. 53, cannot be right. It implies the fifth century theory
  of μύδροι. Anaximander knew nothing of the “great mass” of the sun.

Footnote 133:

  The true meaning of this doctrine was first explained by Diels (_Dox._
  pp. 25 sqq.). The flames rush forth _per magni circum spiracula
  mundi_, as Lucretius has it (vi. 493). The πρηστῆρος αὐλός, to which
  these are compared, is simply the nozzle of a pair of bellows, a sense
  which the word πρηστήρ has in Apollonios Rhodios (iv. 776), and has
  nothing to do with the meteorological phenomenon of the same name, for
  which see Chap. III. § 71. It is not now necessary to refute the
  earlier interpretations.

It will be observed that we only hear of three circles, and that the
circle of the sun is the highest. The circle of the stars presents some
difficulty. It is, in all probability, the Milky Way, the appearance of
which may well have suggested the whole theory.[134] It seems that
Anaximander must have thought it had more “breathing-holes” than one,
though the tradition is silent on this point. There is not the slightest
reason for supposing that he regarded it as a sphere. He could not have
failed to see that a sphere so placed would make the sun and moon
permanently invisible. What, then, are we to say of the fixed stars that
do not lie in the Milky Way? There seems to be no way of accounting for
them unless we assume that they are the “innumerable worlds” which we
have just discussed. As the fire and air which surrounded the world have
been broken up into rings, we must be able to see right out into the
Boundless, and the fixed stars must be just the worlds, each surrounded
by its fiery envelope. It does not seem possible to explain all we are
told in any other way; and, if this is right, the statement of some
authors, that Anaximander regarded the stars of heaven as gods, may be
more than the mere mistake which it is now generally taken to be.[135]

Footnote 134:

  It cannot be the Zodiac; for the planets were not separately studied
  yet.

Footnote 135:

  The _Placita_ and Eusebios both have τοὺς ἀστέρας οὐρανίους instead of
  τοὺς ἀπείρους οὐρανούς (see above, p. 65, n. 2), and it seems just
  possible that this is not a mere corruption of the text. The common
  source may have had both statements. I do not, however, rest the
  interpretation given above on this very insecure basis. Quite apart
  from it, it seems to be the only way out of the difficulty.

The explanation given of thunder and lightning was very similar. They
too were caused by fire breaking through compressed air, that is to say,
through the storm-clouds. It seems probable that this is really the
origin of the theory, and that Anaximander explained the heavenly bodies
on the analogy of lightning, not _vice versa_. That would be in perfect
agreement with the meteorological interest of the time.

[Sidenote: Earth and sea.]

20. We turn now to what we are told of the origin of earth and sea from
the moist, cold matter which was “separated off” in the beginning, and
which filled the inside of the sphere of flame:—

  The sea is what is left of the original moisture. The fire has dried
  up most of it and turned the rest salt by scorching it.—Aet. iii. 16,
  1 (R. P. 20 a).

  He says that the earth is cylindrical in form, and that its depth is
  as a third part of its. breadth.—Ps.-Plut. _Strom._ fr. 2 (R. P.
  _ib._).

  The earth swings free, held in its place by nothing. It stays where it
  is because of its equal distance from everything. Its shape is convex
  and round, and like a stone pillar. We are on one of the surfaces, and
  the other is on the opposite side.[136]—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 6 (R. P. 20).

Footnote 136:

  The MSS. of Hippolytos have ὑγρὸν στρογγύλον. Roeper read γυρὸν
  [στρογγύλον], supposing the second word to be a gloss on the first;
  but Diels has shown (_Dox._ p. 218) that both are wanted. The first
  means “convex,” and applies to the _surface_ of the earth; while the
  second means “round,” and refers to its circuit. As to κίονι λίθῳ, it
  is not easy to say anything positive. It might, possibly, be a mere
  corruption of κυλίνδρῳ (cf. Plut. _Strom._ fr. 2; R. P. 20 a); but, if
  so, it is a very old one. Aetios (iii. 10, 2), who is quite
  independent of Hippolytos, has λίθῳ κίονι; Roeper suggested κιονέῃ
  λίθῳ; Teichmüller, κίονος λιθῷ; while Diels doubtfully puts forward
  λιθῷ κίονι, which he suggests might be a Theophrastean modernisation
  of an original λιθέῃ κίονι (_Dox._ p. 219).

Adopting for a moment the later theory of “elements,” we see that
Anaximander put fire on one side as “the hot,” and all the rest on the
other as “the cold,” which is also moist. This may explain how Aristotle
came to speak of the Boundless as intermediate between fire and water.
And we have seen also that the moist element was partly turned into
“air” or vapour by the fire, which explains how he could say the
Boundless was something between fire and air, or between air and
water.[137]

Footnote 137:

  See above, p. 58, _n._ 48.

The moist, cold interior of the world is not, it will be noticed, pure
water. It is always called “the moist” or “the moist state.” That is
because it has to be still further differentiated under the influence of
heat into earth, water, and vapour. The gradual drying up of the water
by the fire is a good example of what Anaximander meant by “injustice.”
And we see how this injustice brings about the destruction of the world.
The fire will in time dry up and burn up the whole of the cold, moist
element. But then it will not be fire any longer; it will simply be the
“mixture,” if we choose to call it so, of the hot and cold—that is, it
will be the same as the Boundless which surrounds it, and will pass away
into it.

The view which Anaximander takes of the earth is a great advance upon
anything we can reasonably attribute to Thales, and Aristotle has
preserved the arguments by which he supported it. It is equally distant
from the extremes in every direction, and there is no reason for it to
move up or down or sideways.[138] Still, he does not attain to the idea
that it is spherical. He believes that we live on a convex disc, and
from this the cylindrical form follows as a matter of course. The really
remarkable thing is that he should have seen, however dimly, that there
is no absolute up and down in the world.

Footnote 138:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 295 b 10, εἰσὶ δέ τινες οἳ διὰ τὴν ὁμοιότητά
  φασιν αὐτὴν (τὴν γῆν) μένειν, ὥσπερ τῶν ἀρχαίων Ἀναξίμανδρος· μᾶλλον
  μὲν γὰρ οὐθὲν ἄνω ἢ κάτω ἢ εἰς τὰ πλάγια φέρεσθαι προσήκειν τὸ ἐπὶ τοῦ
  μέσου ἱδρυμένον καὶ ὁμοίως πρὸς τὰ ἔσχατα ἔχον. That Aristotle is
  really reproducing Anaximander seems to be shown by the use of
  ὁμοιότης in the old sense of “equality.”

[Sidenote: Animals.]

21. We have seen enough to show us that the speculations of Anaximander
about the world were of an extremely daring character; we come now to
the crowning audacity of all, his theory of the origin of living
creatures. The Theophrastean account of this has been well preserved by
the doxographers:—

  Living creatures arose from the moist element as it was evaporated by
  the sun. Man was like another animal, namely, a fish, in the
  beginning.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 6 (R. P. 22 a).

  The first animals were produced in the moisture, each enclosed in a
  prickly bark. As they advanced in age, they came out upon the drier
  part. When the bark broke off,[139] they survived for a short
  time.—Aet. v. 19, 1 (R. P. 22).

  Further, he says that originally man was born from animals of another
  species. His reason is that while other animals quickly find food by
  themselves, man alone requires a lengthy period of suckling. Hence,
  had he been originally as he is now, he would never have
  survived.—Ps.-Plut. _Strom._ fr. 2 (R. P. _ib._).

  He declares that at first human beings arose in the inside of fishes,
  and after having been reared like sharks,[140] and become capable of
  protecting themselves, they were finally cast ashore and took to
  land.—Plut. _Symp. Quaest._ 730 f (R. P. _ib._).

Footnote 139:

  This is to be understood in the light of what we are told about γαλεοί
  below. Cf. Arist. _Hist. An._ Ζ, 10. 565 a 25, τοῖς μὲν οὖν σκυλίοις,
  οὓς καλοῦσί τινες νεβρίας γαλεούς, ὅταν περιρραγῇ καὶ ἐκπέσῃ τὸ
  ὄστρακον, γίνονται οἱ νεοττοί.

Footnote 140:

  Reading ὥσπερ οἱ γαλεοί for ὥσπερ οἱ παλαιοί with Doehner, who
  compares Plut. _de soll. anim._ 982 a, where the φιλόστοργον of the
  shark is described. See p. 74, _n._ 141.

The importance of these statements has sometimes been overrated and
still more often underestimated. Anaximander has been called a precursor
of Darwin by some, while others have treated the whole thing as a
mythological survival. It is therefore important to notice that this is
one of the rare cases where we have not merely a _placitum_, but an
indication, meagre though it be, of the observations on which it was
based, and the line of argument by which it was supported. It is clear
from this that Anaximander had an idea of what is meant by adaptation to
environment and survival of the fittest, and that he saw the higher
mammals could not represent the original type of animal. For this he
looked to the sea, and he naturally fixed upon those fishes which
present the closest analogy to the _mammalia_. The statements of
Aristotle about the _galeus levis_ were shown long ago by Johannes
Müller to be more accurate than those of later naturalists, and we now
know that these observations were already made by Anaximander. The
manner in which the shark nourishes its young furnished him with the
very thing he required to explain the survival of the earliest
animals.[141]

Footnote 141:

  On Aristotle and the _galeus levis_, see Johannes Müller, “Ueber den
  glatten Hai des Aristoteles” (_K. Preuss. Akad._, 1842), to which my
  attention has been directed by my colleague, Prof. D’Arcy Thomson. The
  precise point of the words τρεφόμενοι ὥσπερ οἱ γαλεοί appears from
  Arist. _Hist. An._ Ζ, 10. 565 b 1, οἱ δὲ καλούμενοι λεῖοι τῶν γαλεῶν
  τὰ μὲν ᾠὰ ἴσχουσι μεταξὺ τῶν ὑστερῶν ὁμοίως τοῖς σκυλίοις, περιστάντα
  δὲ ταῦτα εἰς ἑκατέραν τὴν δικρόαν τῆς ὑστέρας καταβαίνει, καὶ τὰ ζῷα
  γίνεται τὸν ὀμφαλὸν ἔχοντα πρὸς τῇ ὑστέρᾳ, ὥστε ἀναλισκομένων τῶν ᾠῶν
  ὁμοίως δοκεῖν ἔχειν τὸ ἔμβρυον τοῖς τετράποσιν. It is not necessary to
  suppose that Anaximander referred to the further phenomenon described
  by Aristotle, who more than once says that all the γαλεοί except the
  ἀκανθίας “send out their young and take them back again” (ἐξαφιᾶσι καὶ
  δέχονται εἰς ἑαυτοὺς τοὺς νεοττούς, _ib._ 565 b 23), for which compare
  also Ael. i. 17; Plut. _de soll. anim._ 982 a. The _placenta_ and
  umbilical cord described by Johannes Müller will account sufficiently
  for all he says. At the same time, I understand that deep-sea
  fishermen at the present day confirm this remarkable statement also,
  and two credible witnesses have informed me that they believe they
  have seen the thing happen with their own eyes.

[Sidenote: Theology.]

22. In the course of our discussion of the “innumerable worlds” we saw
that Anaximander regarded these as gods. It is true, of course, as
Zeller says,[142] that to the Greeks the word θεός meant primarily an
object of worship, and he rightly adds that no one would think of
worshipping innumerable worlds. This, however, is no real objection to
our interpretation, though it serves to bring out an interesting point
in the development of Greek theological ideas. The philosophers, in
fact, departed altogether from the received usage of the word θεός.
Empedokles called the Sphere and the Elements gods, though it is not to
be supposed that he regarded them as objects of worship, and in the same
way we shall find that Diogenes of Apollonia spoke of Air as a god.[143]
As we may learn from the _Clouds_ of Aristophanes, it was just this way
of speaking that got philosophers the name of being ἄθεοι. It is of
great importance to bear this point in mind; for, when we come to
Xenophanes, we shall see that the god or gods he spoke of meant just the
world or worlds. It seems also that Anaximander called the Boundless
itself divine,[144] which is quite in accordance with the language of
Empedokles and Diogenes referred to above.

Footnote 142:

  Zeller, p. 230.

Footnote 143:

  For Empedokles, see Chap. V. § 119; and for Diogenes, Chap. X. § 188,
  fr. 5. The cosmologists followed the theogonists and cosmogonists in
  this. No one worshipped Okeanos and Tethys, or even Ouranos.

Footnote 144:

  Arist. _Phys._ Γ, 4. 203 b 13 (R. P. 17).


                            III. ANAXIMENES

[Sidenote: Life.]

23. Anaximenes of Miletos, son of Eurystratos, was, according to
Theophrastos, an “associate” of Anaximander.[145] Apollodoros said, it
appears, that he “flourished” about the time of the fall of Sardeis
(546/5 B.C.), and died in Ol. LXIII. (528/524 B.C.).[146] In other
words, he was born when Thales “flourished,” and “flourished” when
Thales died, and this means that Apollodoros had no definite information
about his date at all. He most probably made him die in the sixty-third
Olympiad because that gives just a hundred years, or three generations,
for the Milesian school from the birth of Thales. We cannot, therefore,
say anything positive as to his date, except that he must have been
younger than Anaximander, and must have flourished before 494 B.C., when
the school was, of course, broken up by the destruction of Miletos.

Footnote 145:

  Theophr. _Phys. Op._ fr. 2 (R. P. 26).

Footnote 146:

  This follows from a comparison of Diog. ii. 3. with Hipp. _Ref._ i. 7
  (R. P. 23). In the latter passage we must, however, read τρίτον for
  πρῶτον with Diels. The suggestion in R. P. 23 e that Apollodoros
  mentioned the Olympiad without giving the number of the year is
  inadequate; for Apollodoros did not reckon by Olympiads, but Athenian
  archons. Jacoby (p. 194) brings the date of his death into connexion
  with the _floruit_ of Pythagoras, which seems to me less probable.
  Lortzing (_Jahresber._, 1898, p. 202) objects to my view on the ground
  that the period of a hundred years plays no part in Apollodoros’s
  calculations. It will be seen, however, from Jacoby, pp. 39 sqq., that
  there is some reason for believing he made use of the generation of
  33⅓ years.

[Sidenote: His book.]

24. Anaximenes wrote a book which certainly survived until the age of
literary criticism; for we are told that he used a simple and
unpretentious Ionic,[147] very different, we may suppose, from the
poetical prose of Anaximander.[148] We may probably trust this
criticism, which comes ultimately from Theophrastos; and it furnishes a
good illustration of the truth that the character of a man’s thoughts is
sure to find expression in his style. We have seen that the speculations
of Anaximander were distinguished for their hardihood and breadth; those
of Anaximenes are marked by just the opposite quality. He appears to
have thought out his system carefully, but he rejects the more audacious
theories of his predecessor. The result is that, while his view of the
world is on the whole much less like the truth than Anaximander’s, it is
more fruitful in ideas that were destined to hold their ground.

Footnote 147:

  Diog. ii. 3 (R. P. 23).

Footnote 148:

  Cf. the statement of Theophrastos above, § 13.

[Sidenote: Theory of the primary substance.]

25. Anaximenes is one of the philosophers on whom Theophrastos wrote a
special monograph;[149] and this gives us an additional guarantee for
the trustworthiness of the tradition derived from his great work. The
following[150] are the passages which seem to contain the fullest and
most accurate account of what he had to say on the central feature of
the system:—

  Anaximenes of Miletos, son of Eurystratos, who had been an associate
  of Anaximander, said, like him, that the underlying substance was one
  and infinite. He did not, however, say it was indeterminate, like
  Anaximander, but determinate; for he said it was Air.—_Phys. Op._ fr.
  2 (R. P. 26).

  From it, he said, the things that are, and have been, and shall be,
  the gods and things divine, took their rise, while other things come
  from its offspring.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 7 (R. P. 28).

  “Just as,” he said, “our soul, being air, holds us together, so do
  breath and air encompass the whole world.”—Aet. i. 3, 4 (R. P. 24).

  And the form of the air is as follows. Where it is most even, it is
  invisible to our sight; but cold and heat, moisture and motion, make
  it visible. It is always in motion; for, if it were not, it would not
  change so much as it does.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 7 (R. P. 28).

  It differs in different substances in virtue of its rarefaction and
  condensation.—_Phys. Op._ fr. 2 (R. P. 26).

  When it is dilated so as to be rarer, it becomes fire; while winds, on
  the other hand, are condensed Air. Cloud is formed from Air by
  felting;[151] and this, still further condensed, becomes water. Water,
  condensed still more, turns to earth; and when condensed as much as it
  can be, to stones.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 7 (R. P. 28).[152]

Footnote 149:

  On these monographs see _Dox._ p. 103.

Footnote 150:

  See the conspectus of extracts from Theophrastos given in _Dox._ p.
  135.

Footnote 151:

  “Felting” (πίλησις) is the regular term for this process with all the
  early cosmologists, from whom Plato has taken it (_Tim._ 58 b 4; 76 c
  3).

Footnote 152:

  A more condensed form of the same doxographical tradition is given by
  Ps.-Plut. _Strom._ fr. 3 (R. P. 25).

[Sidenote: Rarefaction and condensation.]

26. At the first glance, this undoubtedly looks like a falling off from
the more refined doctrine of Anaximander to a cruder view; but a
moment’s reflexion will show that this is not altogether the case. On
the contrary, the introduction of rarefaction and condensation into the
theory is a notable advance.[153] In fact, it makes the Milesian
cosmology thoroughly consistent for the first time; since it is clear
that a theory which explains everything by the transformations of a
single substance is bound to regard all differences as purely
quantitative. The infinite substance of Anaximander, from which the
opposites “in it” are “separated out,” cannot, strictly speaking, be
thought of as homogeneous, and the only way to save the unity of the
primary substance is to say that all diversities are due to the presence
of more or less of it in a given space. And when once this important
step has been taken, it is no longer necessary to make the primary
substance something “distinct from the elements,” to use Aristotle’s
inaccurate but convenient phrase; it may just as well be one of them.

Footnote 153:

  Simplicius, _Phys._ p. 149, 32 (R. P. 26 b), says, according to the
  MSS., that Theophrastos spoke of rarefaction and condensation in the
  case of Anaximenes _alone_. We must either suppose with Zeller (p.
  193, n. 2) that this means “alone among the oldest Ionians” or read
  πρῶτου for μόνου with Usener. The regular terms are πύκνωσις and
  ἀραίωσις or μάνωσις. Plutarch, _de prim. frig._ 947 f (R. P. 27), says
  that Anaximenes used the term τὸ χαλαρόν for the rarefied air.

[Sidenote: Air.]

27. The air that Anaximenes speaks of includes a good deal that we
should not call by that name. In its normal condition, when most evenly
distributed, it is invisible, and it then corresponds to our “air”; it
is identical with the breath we inhale and the wind that blows. That is
why he called it πνεῦμα. On the other hand, the old idea, familiar to us
in Homer, that mist or vapour is condensed air, is still accepted
without question. In other words, we may say that Anaximenes supposed it
to be a good deal easier to get liquid air than it has since proved to
be. It was Empedokles, we shall see, who first discovered that what we
call air was a distinct corporeal substance, and was not identical
either with vapour or with empty space. In the earlier cosmologists
“air” is always a form of vapour, and even darkness is a form of it. It
was Empedokles who cleared up this point too by showing that darkness is
a shadow.[154]

Footnote 154:

  For the meaning of ἀήρ in Homer, see Schmidt, _Synonomik_, § 35; and
  for its survival in Ionic prose, Hippokrates, Περὶ ἀέρων, ὑδάτων,
  τόπων, 15, ἀήρ τε πολὺς κατέχει τὴν χώρην ἀπὸ τῶν ὑδάτων. Plato is
  still conscious of the old meaning of the word; for he makes Timaios
  say ἀέρος (γένη) τὸ μὲν εὐαγέστατον ἐπίκλην αἰθὴρ καλούμενος, ὁ δὲ
  θολερώτατος ὁμίχλη καὶ σκότος (_Tim._ 58 d). The view given in the
  text has been criticised by Tannery, “Une nouvelle hypothèse sur
  Anaximandre” (_Arch._ viii. pp. 443 sqq.), and I have slightly altered
  my expression of it to meet these criticisms. The point is of
  fundamental importance, as we shall see, for the interpretation of
  Pythagoreanism.

It was natural for Anaximenes to fix upon Air in this sense as the
primary substance; for, in the system of Anaximander, it occupied an
intermediate place between the two fundamental opposites, the sphere of
flame and the cold, moist mass within it (§ 19). We know from Plutarch
that he fancied air became warmer when rarefied, and colder when
condensed. Of this he satisfied himself by a curious experimental proof.
When we breathe with our mouths open, the air is warm; when we breathe
with our lips closed, it is cold.[155]

Footnote 155:

  Plut. _de prim. frig._ 947 f (R. P. 27).

[Sidenote: The world breathes.]

28. This argument from human breathing brings us to an important point
in the theory of Anaximenes, which is attested by the single fragment
that has come down to us.[156] “Just as our soul, being air, holds us
together, so do breath and air encompass the whole world.” The primary
substance bears the same relation to the life of the world as to that of
man. Now this, we shall see, was the Pythagorean view;[157] and it is
also an early instance of the argument from the microcosm to the
macrocosm, and so marks the first beginnings of an interest in
physiological matters.

Footnote 156:

  Aet. i. 3, 4 (R. P. 24).

Footnote 157:

  See Chap. II. § 53.

[Sidenote: The parts of the world.]

29. We turn now to the doxographical tradition concerning the formation
of the world and its parts:—

  He says that, as the air was felted, the earth first came into being.
  It is very broad and is accordingly supported by the air.—Ps.-Plut.
  _Strom._ fr. 3 (R. P. 25).

  In the same way the sun and the moon and the other heavenly bodies,
  which are of a fiery nature, are supported by the air because of their
  breadth. The heavenly bodies were produced from the earth by moisture
  rising from it. When this is rarefied, fire comes into being, and the
  stars are composed of the fire thus raised aloft. There were also
  bodies of earthy substance in the region of the stars, revolving along
  with them. And he says that the heavenly bodies do not move under the
  earth, as others suppose, but round it, as a cap turns round our head.
  The sun is hidden from sight, not because it goes under the earth, but
  because it is concealed by the higher parts of the earth, and because
  its distance from us becomes greater. The stars give no heat because
  of the greatness of their distance.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 7, 4-6 (R. P. 28).

  Winds are produced when air is condensed and rushes along under
  propulsion; but when it is concentrated and thickened still more,
  clouds are generated; and, lastly, it turns to water.[158]—Hipp.
  _Ref._ i. 7, 7 (Dox. p. 561).

  The stars are fixed like nails in the crystalline vault of the
  heavens.—Aet. ii. 14, 3 (_Dox._ p. 344).

  They do not go under the earth, but turn round it.—_Ib._ 16, 6 (_Dox._
  p. 346).

  The sun is fiery.—_Ib._ 20, 2 (_Dox._ p. 348).

  It is broad like a leaf.—_Ib._ 22, 1 (_Dox._ p. 352).

  The heavenly bodies are diverted from their courses by the resistance
  of compressed air.—_Ib._ 23, 1 (_Dox._ p. 352).

  The moon is of fire.—_Ib._ 25, 2 (_Dox._ p. 356).

  Anaximenes explained lightning like Anaximander, adding as an
  illustration what happens in the case of the sea, which flashes when
  divided by the oars.—_Ib._ iii. 3, 2 (_Dox._ p. 368).

  Hail is produced when water freezes in falling; snow, when there is
  some air imprisoned in the water.—Aet. iii 4, 1 (_Dox._ p. 370).

  The rainbow is produced when the beams of the sun fall on thick
  condensed air. Hence the anterior part of it seems red, being burnt by
  the sun’s rays, while the other part is dark, owing to the
  predominance of moisture. And he says that a rainbow is produced at
  night by the moon, but not often, because there is not constantly a
  full moon, and because the moon’s light is weaker than that of the
  sun.—_Schol. Arat._[159] (_Dox._ p. 231).

  The earth was like a table in shape.—Aet. iii. 10, 3 (_Dox._ p. 377).

  The cause of earthquakes was the dryness and moisture of the earth,
  occasioned by droughts and heavy rains respectively.—_Ib._ 15, 3
  (_Dox._ p. 379).

Footnote 158:

  The text is very corrupt here. I retain ἐκπεπυκνωμένος, because we are
  told above that winds are condensed air, and I adopt Zeller’s ἀραιῷ
  εἰσφέρηται (p. 246, _n._ 554).

We have seen that Anaximenes was quite justified in going back to Thales
in regard to his general theory of the primary substance; but it cannot
be denied that the effect of this upon the details of his cosmology was
unfortunate. The earth is once more imagined as a table-like disc
floating upon the air. The sun, moon, and planets are also fiery discs
which float on the air “like leaves.” It follows that the heavenly
bodies cannot be thought of as going under the earth at night, but only
as going round it laterally like a cap or a millstone.[160] This curious
view is also mentioned in Aristotle’s _Meteorology_,[161] where the
elevation of the northern parts of the earth, which makes it possible
for the heavenly bodies to be hidden from sight, is referred to. In
fact, whereas Anaximander had regarded the orbits of the sun, moon, and
stars as oblique with reference to the earth, Anaximenes regarded the
earth itself as inclined. The only real advance is the distinction of
the planets, which float freely in the air, from the fixed stars, which
are fastened to the “crystalline” vault of the sky.[162]

Footnote 159:

  The source of this is Poseidonios, who used Theophrastos. _Dox._ p.
  231.

Footnote 160:

  Theodoret (iv. 16) speaks of those who believe in a revolution like
  that of a millstone, as contrasted with one like that of a wheel.
  Diels (_Dox._ p. 46) refers these similes to Anaximenes and
  Anaximander respectively. They come, of course, from Aetios (Appendix,
  § 10), though they are given neither by Stobaios nor in the _Placita_.

Footnote 161:

  Β, 1. 354 a 28 (R. P. 28 c).

Footnote 162:

  We do not know how Anaximenes imagined the “crystalline” sky. It is
  probable that he used the word πάγος as Empedokles did. Cf. Chap. V. §
  112.

The earthy bodies, which circulate among the planets, are doubtless
intended to account for eclipses and the phases of the moon.[163]

Footnote 163:

  See Tannery, _Science hellène_, p. 153. For the precisely similar
  bodies assumed by Anaxagoras, see below, Chap. VI. § 135. See further
  Chap. VII. § 151.

[Sidenote: Innumerable worlds.]

30. As might be expected, there is the same difficulty about the
“innumerable worlds” ascribed to Anaximenes as about those of
Anaximander, and most of the arguments given above (§ 18) apply here
also. The evidence, however, is far less satisfactory. Cicero says that
Anaximenes regarded air as a god, and adds that it came into being.[164]
That there is some confusion here is obvious. Air, as the primary
substance, is certainly eternal, and it is quite likely that Anaximenes
called it “divine,” as Anaximander did the Boundless; but it is certain
that he also spoke of gods who came into being and passed away. These
arose, he said, from the air. This is expressly stated by
Hippolytos,[165] and also by St. Augustine.[166] These gods are probably
to be explained like Anaximander’s. Simplicius, indeed, takes another
view;[167] but he may have been misled by a Stoic authority.

Footnote 164:

  Cic. _de nat. D._ i. 26 (R. P. 28 b). On what follows see Krische,
  _Forschungen_, pp. 52 sqq.

Footnote 165:

  Hipp. _Ref._ i. 7, 1 (R. P. 28).

Footnote 166:

  Aug. _de civ. D._ viii. 2: “Anaximenes omnes rerum causas infinito
  aëri dedit: nec deos negavit aut tacuit; non tamen ab ipsis aërem
  factum, sed ipsos ex aëre ortos credidit” (R. P. 28 b).

Footnote 167:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 1121, 12 (R. P. 28 a). The passage from the
  _Placita_ is of higher authority than this from Simplicius. Note,
  further, that it is only to Anaximenes, Herakleitos, and Diogenes that
  successive worlds are ascribed even here. With regard to Anaximander,
  Simplicius is quite clear. For the Stoic view of Herakleitos, see
  Chap. III. § 78; and for Diogenes, Chap. X. § 188. That Simplicius is
  following a Stoic authority is suggested by the words καὶ ὕστερον οἱ
  ἀπὸ τῆς Στοᾶς. Cf. also Simpl. _de Caelo_, p. 202, 13.

[Sidenote: Influence of Anaximenes.]

31. It is not quite easy for us to realise that, in the eyes of his
contemporaries, and for long after, Anaximenes was a much more important
figure than Anaximander. And yet the fact is certain. We shall see that
Pythagoras, though he followed Anaximander in his account of the
heavenly bodies, was far more indebted to Anaximenes for his general
theory of reality (§ 53). We shall see further that when, at a later
date, science revived once more in Ionia, it was “the philosophy of
Anaximenes” to which it attached itself (§ 122). Anaxagoras adopted many
of his most characteristic views (§ 135), and some of them even found
their way into the cosmology of the Atomists.[168] Diogenes of Apollonia
went back to the central doctrine of Anaximenes, and once more made Air
the primary substance, though he also tried to combine it with the
theories of Anaxagoras (§ 188). We shall come to all this later on; but
it seemed desirable to point out at once that Anaximenes marks the
culminating point of the line of thought which started with Thales, and
to show how the “philosophy of Anaximenes” came to mean the Milesian
doctrine as a whole. This it can only have done because it was really
the work of a school, of which Anaximenes was the last distinguished
representative, and because his contribution to it was one that
completed the system he had inherited from his predecessors. That the
theory of rarefaction and condensation was really such a completion of
the Milesian system, we have seen already (§ 26), and it need only be
added that a clear realisation of this fact will be the best clue at
once to the understanding of the Milesian cosmology itself and to that
of the systems which followed it. In the main, it is from Anaximenes
that they all start.

Footnote 168:

  In particular, the authority of Anaximenes was so great that both
  Leukippos and Demokritos adhered to his theory of a disc-like earth.
  Cf. Aet. iii. 10, 3-5 (Περὶ σχήματος γῆς), Ἀναξιμένης τραπεζοειδῆ (τὴν
  γῆν). Λεύκιππος τυμπανοειδῆ. Δημόκριτος δισκοειδῆ μὲν τῷ πλάτει,
  κοίλην δὲ τῷ μέσῳ. This, in spite of the fact that the spherical form
  of the earth was already a commonplace in circles affected by
  Pythagoreanism.




                               CHAPTER II
                          SCIENCE AND RELIGION


[Sidenote: Migrations to the West.]

32. So far we have not met with any trace of direct antagonism between
science and popular beliefs, though the views of the Milesian
cosmologists were really as inconsistent with the religions of the
people as with the mythology of the anthropomorphic poets.[169] Two
things hastened the conflict—the shifting of the scene to the West, and
the religious revival which swept over Hellas in the sixth century B.C.

Footnote 169:

  For the theological views of Anaximander and Anaximenes, see § 22 and
  30.

The chief figures in the philosophical history of the period were
Pythagoras of Samos and Xenophanes of Kolophon. Both were Ionians by
birth, and yet both spent the greater part of their lives in the West.
We see from Herodotos how the Persian advance in Asia Minor occasioned a
series of migrations to Sicily and Southern Italy;[170] and this, of
course, made a great difference to philosophy as well as to religion.
The new views had probably grown up so naturally and gradually in Ionia
that the shock of conflict and reaction was avoided; but that could no
longer be so, when they were transplanted to a region where men were
wholly unprepared to receive them.

Footnote 170:

  Cf. Herod. i. 170 (advice of Bias); vi. 22 sqq. (Kale Akte).

Another, though a somewhat later, effect of these migrations was to
bring Science into contact with Rhetoric, one of the most characteristic
products of Western Hellas. Already in Parmenides we may note the
presence of that dialectical and controversial spirit which was destined
to have so great an influence on Greek thought, and it was just this
fusion of the art of arguing for victory with the search for truth that
before long gave birth to Logic.

[Sidenote: The religious revival.]

33. Most important of all in its influence on philosophy was the
religious revival which culminated about this time. The religion of
continental Hellas had developed in a very different way from that of
Ionia. In particular, the worship of Dionysos, which came from Thrace,
and is barely mentioned in Homer, contained in germ a wholly new way of
looking at man’s relation to the world. It would certainly be wrong to
credit the Thracians themselves with any very exalted views; but there
can be no doubt that, to the Greeks, the phenomenon of ecstasy suggested
that the soul was something more than a feeble double of the self, and
that it was only when “out of the body” it could show its true
nature.[171] To a less extent, such ideas were also suggested by the
worship of Demeter, whose mysteries were celebrated at Eleusis; though,
in later days, these came to take the leading place in men’s minds. That
was because they were incorporated in the public religion of Athens.

Footnote 171:

  On all this, see Rohde, _Psyche_, pp. 327 sqq. It is probable that he
  exaggerated the degree to which these ideas were already developed
  among the Thracians, but the essential connexion of the new view of
  the soul with Northern worships is confirmed by the tradition over and
  over again.

Before the time with which we are dealing, tradition shows us dimly an
age of inspired prophets—Bakides and Sibyls—followed by one of strange
medicine-men like Abaris and Aristeas of Prokonnesos. With Epimenides of
Crete, we touch the fringe of history, while Pherekydes of Syros is the
contemporary of the early cosmologists, and we still have some fragments
of his discourse. It looked as if Greek religion were about to enter
upon the same stage as that already reached by the religions of the
East; and, but for the rise of science, it is hard to see what could
have checked this tendency. It is usual to say that the Greeks were
saved from a religion of the Oriental type by their having no
priesthood; but this is to mistake the effect for the cause. Priesthoods
do not make dogmas, though they preserve them once they are made; and in
the earlier stages of their development, the Oriental peoples had no
priesthoods either in the sense intended.[172] It was not so much the
absence of a priesthood as the existence of the scientific schools that
saved Greece.

Footnote 172:

  See Meyer, _Gesch. des Alterth._ ii. § 461. The exaggerated rôle often
  attributed to priesthoods is a survival of French eighteenth century
  thinking.

[Sidenote: The Orphic religion.]

34. The new religion—for in one sense it was new, though in another as
old as mankind—reached its highest point of development with the
foundation of the Orphic communities. So far as we can see, the original
home of these was Attika; but they spread with extraordinary rapidity,
especially in Southern Italy and Sicily.[173] They were first of all
associations for the worship of Dionysos; but they were distinguished by
two features which were new among the Hellenes. They looked to a
revelation as the source of religious authority, and they were organised
as artificial communities. The poems which contained their theology were
ascribed to the Thracian Orpheus, who had himself descended into Hades,
and was therefore a safe guide through the perils which beset the
disembodied soul in the next world. We have considerable remains of this
literature, but they are mostly of late date, and cannot safely be used
as evidence for the beliefs of the sixth century. We do know, however,
that the leading ideas of Orphicism were quite early. A number of thin
gold plates with Orphic verses inscribed on them have been discovered in
Southern Italy;[174] and though these are somewhat later in date than
the period with which we are dealing, they belong to the time when
Orphicism was a living creed and not a fantastic revival. What can be
made out from them as to the doctrine has a startling resemblance to the
beliefs which were prevalent in India about the same time, though it
seems impossible that there should have been any actual contact between
India and Greece at this date. The main purpose of the _Orgia_[175] was
to “purify” the believer’s soul, and so enable it to escape from the
“wheel of birth,” and it was for the better attainment of this end that
the Orphics were organised in communities. Religious associations must
have been known to the Greeks from a fairly early date;[176] but the
oldest of these were based, at least in theory, on the tie of kindred
blood. What was new was the institution of communities to which any one
might be admitted by initiation.[177] This was, in fact, the
establishment of churches, though there is no evidence that these were
connected with each other in such a way that we could rightly speak of
them as a single church. The Pythagoreans came nearer to realising that.

Footnote 173:

  See E. Meyer, _Gesch. des Alterth._ ii. §§ 453-460, who rightly
  emphasises the fact that the Orphic theogony is the continuation of
  Hesiod’s work. As we have seen, some of it is even older than Hesiod.

Footnote 174:

  For the gold plates of Thourioi and Petelia, see the Appendix to Miss
  Harrison’s _Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion_, where the
  text of them is discussed and a translation given by Professor Gilbert
  Murray.

Footnote 175:

  This was the oldest name for these “mysteries,” and it simply means
  “sacraments” (cf. ἔοργα). _Orgia_ are not necessarily “orgiastic.”
  That association of ideas merely comes from the fact that they
  belonged to the worship of Dionysos.

Footnote 176:

  Herodotos mentions that Isagoras and those of his γένος worshipped the
  Karian Zeus (v. 66), and it is probable that the _Orgeones_ attached
  by Kleisthenes to the Attic _phratriai_ were associations of this
  kind. See Foucart, _Les associations religieuses chez les Grecs_.

Footnote 177:

  A striking parallel is afforded to all this by what we are told in
  Robertson Smith’s _Religion of the Semites_, p. 339. “The leading
  feature that distinguished them” (the Semitic mysteries of the seventh
  century B.C.) “from the old public cults with which they came into
  competition, is that they were not based on the principle of
  nationality, but sought recruits from men of every race who were
  willing to accept initiation through the mystic sacraments.”

[Sidenote: Philosophy as a Way of Life.]

35. We have to take account of the religious revival here, chiefly
because it suggested the view that philosophy was above all a “way of
life.” Science too was a “purification,” a means of escape from the
“wheel.” This is the view expressed so strongly in Plato’s _Phaedo_,
which was written under the influence of Pythagorean ideas.[178]
Sokrates became to his followers the ideal “wise man,” and it was to
this side of his personality the Cynics mainly attached themselves. From
them proceeded the Stoic sage and the Christian saint, and also the
whole brood of impostors whom Lucian has pilloried for our
edification.[179] Saints and sages are apt to appear in questionable
shapes, and Apollonios of Tyana showed in the end where this view may
lead. It was not wholly absent from any Greek philosophy after the days
of Pythagoras. Aristotle is as much possessed by it as any one, as we
may see from the Tenth Book of the _Ethics_, and as we should see still
more distinctly if we possessed such works as the _Protreptikos_ in
their entirety.[180] Plato, indeed, tried to make the ideal wise man of
service to the state and mankind by his doctrine of the philosopher
king. It was he alone, so far as we know, that insisted on philosophers
descending by turns into the cave from which they had been released and
coming to the help of their former fellow-prisoners.[181] That was not,
however, the view that prevailed, and the “wise man” became more and
more detached from the world. Apollonios of Tyana was quite entitled to
regard himself as the spiritual heir of Pythagoras; for the theurgy and
thaumaturgy of the late Greek schools was but the fruit of the seed sown
in the generation before the Persian Wars.

Footnote 178:

  The _Phaedo_ is dedicated, as it were, to Echekrates and the
  Pythagorean society at Phleious, and it is evident that Plato in his
  youth was impressed by the religious side of Pythagoreanism, though
  the influence of Pythagorean science is not clearly marked till a
  later period. Note specially the ἄτραπος of _Phd._ 66 b 4. In _Rep._
  x. 600 b 1, Plato speaks of Pythagoras as the originator of a private
  ὁδός τις βίου.

Footnote 179:

  Cf. especially the point of view of the _Auction of Lives_ (Βίων
  πρᾶσις).

Footnote 180:

  For the Προτρεπτικός of Aristotle, see Bywater in _J. Phil._ ii. p.
  55; Diels in _Arch._ i. p. 477; and the notes on _Ethics_, i. 5, in my
  edition.

Footnote 181:

  Plato, _Rep._ 520 c 1, καταβατέον οὖν ἐν μέρει. The allegory of the
  Cave seems to be Orphic, and I believe Professor Stewart’s suggestion
  (_Myths of Plato_, p. 252, n. 2), that Plato had the κατάβασις εἰς
  Ἅιδου in mind, to be quite justified. The idea of rescuing the
  “spirits in prison” is thoroughly Orphic.

[Sidenote: No doctrine in the “Mysteries.”]

36. On the other hand, it would be wrong to suppose that Orphicism or
the Mysteries suggested any definite doctrines to philosophers, at least
during the period which we are about to consider. We have admitted that
they really implied a new view of the soul, and we might therefore have
expected to find that they profoundly modified men’s theory of the world
and their relation to it. The striking thing is that this did not
happen. Even those philosophers who were most closely in touch with the
religious movement, like Empedokles and the Pythagoreans, held views
about the soul which really contradicted the theory implied by their
religious practices.[182] There is no room for an immortal soul in any
philosophy of this period. Up to Plato’s time immortality was never
treated in a scientific way, but merely assumed in the Orphic rites, to
which Plato half seriously turns for confirmation of his own
teaching.[183]

Footnote 182:

  For Empedokles, see § 119; for the Pythagoreans, see § 149.

Footnote 183:

  Cf. _Phd._ 69 c 2, καὶ κινδυνεύουσι καὶ οἱ τὰς τελετὰς ἡμῖν οὗτοι
  καταστήσαντες οὐ φαῦλοί τινες εἶναι, ἀλλὰ τῷ ὄντι πάλαι αἰνίττεσθαι
  κ.τ.λ. The gentle irony of this and similar passages ought to be
  unmistakable.

All this is easily accounted for. With us a religious revival generally
means the vivid realisation of a new or forgotten doctrine, while
ancient religion has properly no doctrine at all. “The initiated,”
Aristotle said, “were not expected to learn anything, but merely to be
affected in a certain way and put into a certain frame of mind.”[184]
Nothing was required but that the ritual should be correctly performed,
and the worshipper was free to give any explanation of it he pleased. It
might be as exalted as that of Pindar and Sophokles, or as material as
that of the itinerant mystery-mongers described by Plato in the
_Republic_. The essential thing was that he should duly sacrifice his
pig.

Footnote 184:

  Arist. fr. 45, 1483 a 19, τοὺς τελουμένους οὐ μαθεῖν τι δεῖν, ἀλλὰ
  παθεῖν καὶ διατεθῆναι.


                         I. PYTHAGORAS OF SAMOS

[Sidenote: Character of the tradition.]

37. It is no easy task to give an account of Pythagoras that can claim
to be regarded as history. Our principal sources of information[185] are
the Lives composed by Iamblichos, Porphyry, and Laertios Diogenes. That
of Iamblichos is a wretched compilation, based chiefly on the work of
the arithmetician Nikomachos of Gerasa in Judaea, and the romance of
Apollonios of Tyana, who regarded himself as a second Pythagoras, and
accordingly took great liberties with his materials.[186] Porphyry
stands, as a writer, on a far higher level than Iamblichos; but his
authorities do not inspire us with more confidence. He, too, made use of
Nikomachos, and of a certain novelist called Antonius Diogenes, author
of a work entitled _Marvels from beyond Thule_.[187] Diogenes quotes, as
usual, a considerable number of authorities, and the statements he makes
must be estimated according to the nature of the sources from which they
were drawn.[188] So far, it must be confessed, our material does not
seem promising. Further examination shows, however, that a good many
fragments of two much older authorities, Aristoxenos and Dikaiarchos,
are embedded in the mass. These writers were both disciples of
Aristotle; they were natives of Southern Italy, and contemporary with
the last generation of the Pythagorean school. Both wrote accounts of
Pythagoras; and Aristoxenos, who was personally intimate with the last
representatives of scientific Pythagoreanism, also made a collection of
the sayings of his friends. Now the Neopythagorean story, as we have it
in Iamblichos, is a tissue of incredible and fantastic myths; but, if we
sift out the statements which go back to Aristoxenos and Dikaiarchos, we
can easily construct a rational narrative, in which Pythagoras appears
not as a miracle-monger and religious innovator, but simply as a
moralist and statesman. We might then be tempted to suppose that this is
the genuine tradition; but that would be altogether a mistake. There is,
in fact, a third and still earlier stratum in the Lives, and this agrees
with the latest accounts in representing Pythagoras as a wonder-worker
and a religious reformer.

Footnote 185:

  See E. Rohde’s admirable papers, “Die Quellen des Iamblichus in seiner
  Biographie des Pythagoras” (_Rh. Mus._ xxvi., xxvii.).

Footnote 186:

  Iamblichos was a disciple of Porphyry, and contemporary with
  Constantine. The _Life of Pythagoras_ has been edited by Nauck (1884).
  Nikomachos belongs to the beginning of the second century A.D. There
  is no evidence that he added anything to the authorities he followed,
  but these were already vitiated by Neopythagorean fables. Still, it is
  to him we chiefly owe the preservation of the valuable evidence of
  Aristoxenos.

Footnote 187:

  Porphyry’s _Life of Pythagoras_ is the only considerable extract from
  his _History of Philosophy_, in four books, that has survived. The
  romance of Antonius is the original parodied by Lucian in his _Vera
  Historia_.

Footnote 188:

  The importance of the life in Laertios Diogenes lies in the fact that
  it gives us the story current at Alexandria before the rise of
  Neopythagoreanism and the promulgation of the gospel according to
  Apollonios of Tyana.

Some of the most striking miracles of Pythagoras are related on the
authority of Andron’s _Tripod_, and of Aristotle’s work on the
Pythagoreans.[189] Both these treatises belong to the fourth century
B.C., and are therefore untouched by Neopythagorean fancies. Further, it
is only by assuming the still earlier existence of this view that we can
explain the allusions of Herodotos. The Hellespontine Greeks told him
that Salmoxis or Zamolxis had been a slave of Pythagoras,[190] and
Salmoxis is a figure of the same class as Abaris and Aristeas.

Footnote 189:

  Andron of Ephesos wrote a work on the Seven Wise Men, called _The
  Tripod_, in allusion to the well-known story. The feats ascribed to
  Pythagoras in the Aristotelian treatise remind us of an ecclesiastical
  legend. For example, he kills a deadly snake by biting it; he was seen
  at Kroton and Metapontion at the same time; he exhibited his golden
  thigh at Olympia, and was addressed by a voice from heaven when
  crossing the river Kasas. The same authority stated that he was
  identified by the Krotoniates with Apollo Hyperboreios (Arist. fr.
  186).

Footnote 190:

  Herod. iv. 95.

It seems, then, that both the oldest and the latest accounts agree in
representing Pythagoras as a man of the class to which Epimenides and
Onomakritos belonged—in fact, as a sort of “medicine-man”; but, for some
reason, there was an attempt to save his memory from this imputation,
and that attempt belonged to the fourth century B.C. The significance of
this will appear in the sequel.

[Sidenote: Life of Pythagoras.]

38. We may be said to know for certain that Pythagoras passed his early
manhood at Samos, and was the son of Mnesarchos;[191] and he
“flourished,” we are told, in the reign of Polykrates.[192] This date
cannot be far wrong; for Herakleitos already speaks of him in the past
tense.[193]

Footnote 191:

  Cf. Herod. iv. 95, and Herakleitos, fr. 17 (R. P. 31 a). Herodotos
  represents him as living at Samos. On the other hand, Aristoxenos said
  that he came from one of the islands which the Athenians occupied
  after expelling the Tyrrhenians (Diog. viii. 1). This suggests Lemnos,
  from which the Tyrrhenian “Pelasgians” were expelled by Miltiades
  (Herod. vi. 140), or possibly some other island which was occupied at
  the same time. There were also Tyrrhenians at Imbros. This explains
  the story that he was an Etrurian or a Tyrian. Other accounts bring
  him into connexion with Phleious, but that is perhaps a pious
  invention of the Pythagorean society which flourished there at the
  beginning of the fourth century B.C. Pausanias (ii. 13, 1) gives it as
  a Phleiasian tradition that Hippasos, the great-grandfather of
  Pythagoras, had emigrated from Phleious to Samos.

Footnote 192:

  Eratosthenes identified Pythagoras with the Olympic victor of Ol.
  XLVIII. 1 (588/7 B.C.), but Apollodoros gave his _floruit_ as 532/1,
  the era of Polykrates. He doubtless based this on the statement of
  Aristoxenos quoted by Porphyry (_V. Pyth._ 9), that Pythagoras left
  Samos from dislike to the tyranny of Polykrates (R. P. 53 a). For a
  full discussion, see Jacoby, pp. 215 sqq.

Footnote 193:

  Herakl. fr. 16, 17 (R. P. 31, 31 a).

The extensive travels attributed to Pythagoras by late writers are, of
course, apocryphal. Even the statement that he visited Egypt, though far
from improbable if we consider the close relations between Polykrates of
Samos and Amasis, rests on no sufficient authority.[194] Herodotos, it
is true, observes that the Egyptians agreed in certain practices with
the rules called Orphic and Bacchic, which are really Egyptian, and with
the Pythagoreans;[195] but this does not imply that the Pythagoreans
derived these directly from Egypt. He says also in another place that
the belief in transmigration came from Egypt, though certain Greeks,
both at an earlier and a later date, had passed it off as their own. He
refuses, however, to give their names, so he can hardly be referring to
Pythagoras.[196] Nor does it matter; for the Egyptians did not believe
in transmigration at all, and Herodotos was simply deceived by the
priests or the symbolism of the monuments.

Footnote 194:

  It occurs first in the _Bousiris_ of Isokrates, § 28 (R. P. 52).

Footnote 195:

  Herod. ii. 81 (R. P. 52 a). The comma at Αἰγυπτίοισι is clearly right.
  Herodotos believed that the worship of Dionysos was introduced from
  Egypt by Melampous (ii. 49), and he means to suggest that the Orphics
  got these practices from the worshippers of Bakchos, while the
  Pythagoreans got them from the Orphics.

Footnote 196:

  Herod. ii. 123 (R. P. _ib._). The words “whose names I know, but do
  not write” cannot refer to Pythagoras; for it is only of
  contemporaries that Herodotos speaks in this way (cf. i. 51; iv. 48).
  Stein’s suggestion that he meant Empedokles seems to me convincing.
  Herodotos may have met him at Thourioi. Nor is there any reason to
  suppose that οἱ μὲν πρότερον refers specially to the Pythagoreans. If
  Herodotos had ever heard of Pythagoras visiting Egypt, he would surely
  have said so in one or other of these passages. There was no occasion
  for reserve, as Pythagoras must have died before Herodotos was born.

Aristoxenos said that Pythagoras left Samos in order to escape from the
tyranny of Polykrates.[197] It was at Kroton, a city already famous for
its medical school,[198] that he founded his society. How long he
remained there we do not know; he died at Metapontion, whither he had
retired on the first signal of revolt against his influence.[199]

Footnote 197:

  Porph. _V. Pyth._ 9 (R. P. 53 a).

Footnote 198:

  From what Herodotos tells us of Demokedes (iii. 131) we can see that
  the medical school of Kroton was founded before the time of
  Pythagoras. Cf. Wachtler, _De Alcmaeone Crotoniata_, p. 91.

Footnote 199:

  It may be taken as certain that Pythagoras spent his last days at
  Metapontion; Aristoxenos said so (_ap._ Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 249), and
  Cicero (_De Fin._ v. 4) speaks of the honours which continued to be
  paid to his memory in that city (R. P. 57 c). Cf. also Andron, fr. 6
  (_F.H.G._ ii. 347).

[Sidenote: The Order.]

39. There is no reason to believe that the detailed statements which
have been handed down with regard to the organisation of the Pythagorean
Order rest upon any historical basis, and in the case of many of them we
can still see how they came to be made. The distinction of grades within
the Order, variously called _Mathematicians_ and _Akousmatics_,
_Esoterics_ and _Exoterics_, _Pythagoreans_ and _Pythagorists_,[200] is
an invention designed to explain how there came to be two widely
different sets of people, each calling themselves disciples of
Pythagoras, in the fourth century B.C. So, too, the statement that the
Pythagoreans were bound to inviolable secrecy, which goes back to
Aristoxenos,[201] is intended to explain why there is no trace of the
Pythagorean philosophy proper before Philolaos.

Footnote 200:

  For these distinctions, see Porphyry (_V. Pyth._ 37) and Iamblichos
  (_V. Pyth._ 80), quoted R. P. 56 and 56 b. The name ἀκουσματικοί is
  clearly related to the ἀκούσματα, with which we shall have to deal
  shortly (§ 44).

Footnote 201:

  For the “mystic silence,” see Aristoxenos, _ap._ Diog. viii. 15 (R. P.
  55 a). Tannery, “Sur le secret dans l’école de Pythagore” (_Arch._ i.
  pp. 28 sqq.), thinks that the mathematical doctrines were the secrets
  of the school, and that these were divulged by Hippasos; but the most
  reasonable view is that there were no secrets at all except of a
  ritual kind.

The Pythagorean Order was simply, in its origin, a religious fraternity
of the type described above, and not, as has sometimes been maintained,
a political league.[202] Nor had it anything to do with the “Dorian
aristocratic ideal.” Pythagoras was an Ionian, and the Order was
originally confined to Achaian states.[203] Nor is there the slightest
evidence that the Pythagoreans favoured the aristocratic rather than the
democratic party.[204] The main purpose of the Order was to secure for
its own members a more adequate satisfaction of the religious instinct
than that supplied by the State religion. It was, in fact, an
institution for the cultivation of holiness. In this respect it
resembled an Orphic society, though it seems that Apollo, rather than
Dionysos, was the chief Pythagorean god. That is doubtless why the
Krotoniates identified Pythagoras with Apollo Hyperboreios.[205] From
the nature of the case, however, an independent society within a Greek
state was apt to be brought into conflict with the larger body. The only
way in which it could then assert its right to exist was by identifying
the State with itself, that is, by securing the control of the sovereign
power. The history of the Pythagorean Order, so far as it can be traced,
is, accordingly, the history of an attempt to supersede the State; and
its political action is to be explained as a mere incident of that
attempt.

Footnote 202:

  Plato, _Rep._ x. 600 a, implies that Pythagoras held no public office.
  The view that the Pythagorean sect was a political league, maintained
  in modern times by Krische (_De societatis a Pythagora conditae scopo
  politico_, 1830), goes back, as Rohde has shown (_loc. cit._), to
  Dikaiarchos, the champion of the “Practical Life,” just as the view
  that it was primarily a scientific society goes back to the
  mathematician and musician Aristoxenos. The former antedated Archytas,
  just as the latter antedated Philolaos (see Chap. VII. § 138). Grote’s
  good sense enabled him to see this quite clearly (vol. iv. pp. 329
  sqq.).

Footnote 203:

  Meyer, _Gesch. des Alterth._ ii. § 502, Anm. It is still necessary to
  insist upon this, as the idea that the Pythagoreans represented the
  “Dorian ideal” dies very hard. In his _Kulturhistorische Beiträge_
  (Heft i. p. 59), Max C. P. Schmidt imagines that later writers call
  the founder of the sect Pythagoras instead of Pythagores, as he is
  called by Herakleitos and Demokritos, because he had become “a Dorian
  of the Dorians.” The fact is simply that Πυθαγόρας is the Attic form
  of Πυθαγόρης, and that the writers in question wrote Attic. Similarly,
  Plato calls Archytas, who did belong to a Dorian state, Archytes,
  though Aristoxenos and others retained the Dorian form of his name.

Footnote 204:

  Kylon, the chief opponent of the Pythagoreans, is described by
  Aristoxenos (Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 248) as γένει καὶ δόξῃ καὶ πλούτῳ
  πρωτεύων τῶν πολιτῶν. Taras, later the chief seat of the Pythagoreans,
  was a democracy. The truth is that, at this time, the new religion
  appealed to the people rather than the aristocracies, which were apt
  to be “free-thinking” (Meyer, _Gesch. des Alt._ iii. § 252).
  Xenophanes, not Pythagoras, is their man.

Footnote 205:

  We have the authority of Aristotle, fr. 186, 1510 b 20, for the
  identification of Pythagoras with Apollo Hyperboreios. The names of
  Abaris and Aristeas stand for a mystical movement parallel to the
  Orphic, but based on the worship of Apollo. The later tradition makes
  them predecessors of Pythagoras; and that this has some historical
  basis, appears from Herod. iv. 13 sqq., and above all from the
  statement that Aristeas had a statue at Metapontion, where Pythagoras
  died. The connexion of Pythagoras with Zamolxis belongs to the same
  order of ideas. As the legend of the Hyperboreans is Delian, we see
  that the religion taught by Pythagoras was genuinely Ionian in its
  origin.

[Sidenote: Downfall of the Order.]

40. For a time the new Order seems actually to have succeeded in
securing the supreme power, but reaction came at last. Under the
leadership of Kylon, a wealthy noble, Kroton was able to assert itself
victoriously against the Pythagorean domination. This, we may well
believe, had been galling enough. The “rule of the saints” would be
nothing to it; and we can still imagine and sympathise with the
irritation felt by the plain man of those days at having his legislation
done for him by a set of incomprehensible pedants, who made a point of
abstaining from beans, and would not let him beat his own dog because
they recognised in its howls the voice of a departed friend (Xenophanes,
fr. 7). This feeling would be aggravated by the private religious
worship of the Society. Greek states could never pardon the introduction
of new gods. Their objection to this was not, however, that the gods in
question were false gods. If they had been, it would not have mattered
so much. What they could not tolerate was that any one should establish
a private means of communication between himself and the unseen powers.
That introduced an unknown and incalculable element into the
arrangements of the State, which might very likely be hostile to those
citizens who had no means of propitiating the intruding divinity.

Aristoxenos’s version of the events which led to the downfall of the
Pythagorean Order is given at length by Iamblichos. According to this,
Pythagoras had refused to receive Kylon into his Society, and he
therefore became a bitter foe of the Order. From this cause Pythagoras
removed from Kroton to Metapontion, where he died. The Pythagoreans,
however, still retained possession of the government of Kroton, till at
last the partisans of Kylon set fire to Milo’s house, where they were
assembled. Of those in the house only two, Archippos and Lysis, escaped.
Archippos retired to Taras; Lysis, first to Achaia and then to Thebes,
where he became later on the teacher of Epameinondas. The Pythagoreans
who remained concentrated themselves at Rhegion; but, as things went
from bad to worse, they all left Italy except Archippos.[206]

Footnote 206:

  See Rohde, _Rh. Mus._ xxvi. p. 565, n. 1. The narrative in the text
  (Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 250; R. P. 59 b) goes back to Aristoxenos and
  Dikaiarchos (R. P. 59 a). There is no reason to suppose that their
  view of Pythagoras has vitiated their account of what must have been a
  perfectly well-known piece of history. According to the later story,
  Pythagoras himself was burned to death in the house of Milo, along
  with his disciples. This is merely a dramatic compression of the whole
  series of events into a single scene; we have seen that Pythagoras
  died at Metapontion before the final catastrophe. The valuable
  reference in Polybios ii. 39 (R. P. 59) to the burning of Pythagorean
  συνέδρια certainly implies that the disturbances went on for a very
  considerable time.

This account has all the air of being historical. The mention of Lysis
proves, however, that those events were spread over more than one
generation. The _coup d’état_ of Kroton can hardly have occurred before
450 B.C., if the teacher of Epameinondas escaped from it, and it may
well have been even later. But it must have been before 410 B.C. that
the Pythagoreans left Rhegion for Hellas; Philolaos was certainly at
Thebes about that time.[207]

Footnote 207:

  Plato, _Phd._ 61 d 7, e 7.

The political power of the Pythagoreans as an Order was now gone for
ever, though we shall see that some of them returned to Italy at a later
date. In exile they seem to have dropped the merely magical and
superstitious parts of their system, and this enabled them to take their
place as one of the scientific schools of Hellas.

[Sidenote: Want of evidence as to the teaching of Pythagoras.]

41. Of the opinions of Pythagoras we know even less than of his life.
Aristotle clearly knew nothing for certain of ethical or physical
doctrines going back to the founder of the Society himself.[208]
Aristoxenos only gave a string of moral precepts.[209] Dikaiarchos is
quoted by Porphyry as asserting that hardly anything of what Pythagoras
taught his disciples was known except the doctrine of transmigration,
the periodic cycle, and the kinship of all living creatures.[210] The
fact is, that, like all teachers who introduce a new way of living
rather than a new view of the world, Pythagoras preferred oral
instruction to the dissemination of his opinions by writing, and it was
not till Alexandrian times that any one ventured to forge books in his
name. The writings ascribed to the earliest Pythagoreans were also
forgeries of the same period.[211] The early history of Pythagoreanism
is, therefore, wholly conjectural; but we may still make an attempt to
understand, in a very general way, what the position of Pythagoras in
the history of Greek thought must have been.

Footnote 208:

  When discussing the Pythagorean system, Aristotle always refers it to
  “the Pythagoreans,” not to Pythagoras himself. That this was
  intentional seems to be proved by the phrase οἱ καλούμενοι
  Πυθαγόρειοι, which occurs more than once (_e.g._ _Met._ Α, 5. 985 b
  23; _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 293 a 20). Pythagoras himself is only thrice
  mentioned in the whole Aristotelian corpus, and in only one of these
  places (_M. Mor._ 1182 a 11) is any philosophical doctrine ascribed to
  him. We are told there that he was the first to discuss the subject of
  goodness, and that he made the mistake of identifying its various
  forms with numbers. But this is just one of the things which prove the
  late date of the _Magna Moralia_. Aristotle himself is quite clear
  that what he knew as the Pythagorean system belonged in the main to
  the days of Empedokles, Anaxagoras, and Leukippos; for, after
  mentioning these, he goes on to describe the Pythagoreans as
  “contemporary with and earlier than them” (ἐν δὲ τούτοις καὶ πρὸ
  τούτων, _Met._ Α, 5. 985 b 23).

Footnote 209:

  The fragments of the Πυθαγορικαὶ ἀποφάσεις of Aristoxenos are given by
  Diels, _Vors._ pp. 282 sqq.

Footnote 210:

  _V. Pyth._ 19 (R. P. 55).

Footnote 211:

  See Diels, _Dox._ p. 150; and “Ein gefälschtes Pythagorasbuch”
  (_Arch._ iii. pp. 451 sqq.). Cf. also Bernays, _Die Heraklitischen
  Briefe_, n. 1.

[Sidenote: Transmigration.]

42. In the first place, then, there can be no doubt that he really
taught the doctrine of transmigration.[212] The story told by the Greeks
of the Hellespont and Pontos as to his relations with Salmoxis could
never have gained currency by the time of Herodotos if he had not been
known as a man who taught strange views of the life after death.[213]
Now the doctrine of transmigration is most easily to be explained as a
development of the savage belief in the kinship of men and beasts, as
all alike children of the Earth,[214] a view which Dikaiarchos said
Pythagoras certainly held. Further, among savages, this belief is
commonly associated with a system of taboos on certain kinds of food,
and the Pythagorean rule is best known for its prescription of similar
forms of abstinence. This in itself goes far to show that it originated
in the same ideas, and we have seen that the revival of these would be
quite natural in connexion with the foundation of a new religious
society. There is a further consideration which tells strongly in the
same direction. In India we have a precisely similar doctrine, and yet
it is not possible to assume any actual borrowing of Indian ideas at
this date. The only explanation which will account for the facts is that
the two systems were independently evolved from the same primitive
ideas. These are found in many parts of the world; but it seems to have
been only in India and in Greece that they were developed into an
elaborate doctrine.

Footnote 212:

  The proper Greek term for this is παλιγγενεσία, and the inaccurate
  μετεμψύχωσις only occurs in late writers. Hippolytos and Clement of
  Alexandria say μετενσωμάτωσις, which is accurate but cumbrous. See
  Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 428, n. 2.

Footnote 213:

  On the significance of this, see above, p. 93.

Footnote 214:

  Dieterich, “Mutter Erde” (_Archiv für Religionswissenschaft_, viii.
  pp. 29 and 47).

[Sidenote: Abstinence.]

43. It has indeed been doubted whether we have a right to accept what
we are told by such late writers as Porphyry on the subject of
Pythagorean abstinence. Aristoxenos, whom we have admitted to be one
of our earliest witnesses, may be cited to prove that the original
Pythagoreans knew nothing of these restrictions on the use of animal
flesh and beans. He undoubtedly said that Pythagoras did not abstain
from animal flesh in general, but only from that of the ploughing ox
and the ram.[215] He also said that Pythagoras preferred beans to
every other vegetable, as being the most laxative, and that he was
partial to sucking-pigs and tender kids.[216] Aristoxenos, however, is
a witness who very often breaks down under cross-examination, and the
palpable exaggeration of these statements shows that he is
endeavouring to combat a belief which existed in his own day. We are
therefore able to show, out of his own mouth, that the tradition which
made the Pythagoreans abstain from animal flesh and beans goes back to
a time long before there were any Neopythagoreans interested in
upholding it. Still, it may be asked what motive Aristoxenos could
have had for denying the common belief? The answer is simple and
instructive. He had been the friend of the last of the Pythagoreans;
and, in their time, the merely superstitious part of Pythagoreanism
had been dropped, except by some zealots whom the heads of the Society
refused to acknowledge. That is why he represents Pythagoras himself
in so different a light from both the older and the later traditions;
it is because he gives us the view of the more enlightened sect of the
Order. Those who clung faithfully to the old practices were now
regarded as heretics, and all manner of theories were set on foot to
account for their existence. It was related, for instance, that they
descended from one of the “Akousmatics,” who had never been initiated
into the deeper mysteries of the “Mathematicians.”[217] All this,
however, is pure invention. The satire of the poets of the Middle
Comedy proves clearly enough that, even though the friends of
Aristoxenos did not practise abstinence, there were plenty of people
in the fourth century, calling themselves followers of Pythagoras, who
did.[218] History has not been kind to the Akousmatics, but they never
wholly died out. The names of Diodoros of Aspendos and Nigidius
Figulus help to bridge the gulf between them and Apollonios of Tyana.

Footnote 215:

  Aristoxenos _ap._ Diog. viii. 20, πάντα μὲν τὰ ἄλλα συγχωρεῖν αὐτὸν
  ἐσθίειν ἔμψυχα, μόνον δ’ ἀπέχεσθαι βοὸς ἀροτῆρος καὶ κριοῦ.

Footnote 216:

  Aristoxenos _ap._ Gell. iv. 11, 5, Πυθαγόρας δὲ τῶν ὀσπρίων μάλιστα
  τὸν κύαμον ἐδοκίμασεν· λειαντικόν τε γὰρ εἶναι καὶ διαχωρητικόν· διὸ
  καὶ μάλιστα κέχρηται αὐτῷ; _ib._ 6, “porculis quoque minusculis et
  haedis tenerioribus victitasse, idem Aristoxenus refert.” It is, of
  course, possible that Aristoxenos may be right about the taboo on
  beans. We know that it was Orphic, and it may have been transferred to
  the Pythagoreans by mistake. That, however, would not affect the
  general conclusion that at least some Pythagoreans practised
  abstinence from various kinds of food, which is all that is required.

Footnote 217:

  The sect of the “Akousmatics” was said to descend from Hippasos
  (Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 81; R. P. 56). Now Hippasos was the author of a
  μυστικὸς λόγος (Diog. viii. 7; R. P. 56 c), that is to say, of a
  superstitious ceremonial or ritual handbook, probably containing
  Akousmata like those we are about to consider; for we are told that it
  was written ἐπὶ διαβολῇ Πυθαγόρου.

Footnote 218:

  Diels has collected these fragments in a convenient form (_Vors._ pp.
  291 sqq.). For our purpose the most important passages are Antiphanes,
  fr. 135, Kock, ὥσπερ Πυθαγορίζων ἐσθίει | ἔμψυχον οὐδέν; Alexis, fr.
  220, οἱ Πυθαγορίζοντες γάρ, ὡς ἀκούομεν, | οὔτ’ ὄψον ἐσθίουσιν οὔτ’
  ἄλλ’ οὐδὲ ἓν | ἔμψυχον; fr. 196 (from the Πυθαγορίζουσα), ἡ δ’
  ἑστίασις ἰσχάδες καὶ στέμφυλα | καὶ τυρὸς ἔσται· ταῦτα γὰρ θύειν νόμος
  | τοῖς Πυθαγορείοις; Aristophon, fr. 9 (from the Πυθαγοριστής), πρὸς
  τῶν θεῶν οἰόμεθα τοὺς πάλαι ποτέ, | τοὺς Πυθαγοριστὰς γενομένους ὄντως
  ῥυπᾶν | ἑκόντας ἢ φορεῖν τριβῶνας ἡδέως; Mnesimachos, fr. 1, ὡς
  Πυθαγοριστὶ θύομεν τῷ Λοξίᾳ | ἔμψυχον οὐδὲν ἐσθίοντες παντελῶς. See
  also Theokritos, xiv. 5, τοιοῦτος καὶ πρᾶν τις ἀφίκετο Πυθαγορικτάς, |
  ὠχρὸς κἀνυποδητός· Ἀθηναῖος δ’ ἔφατ’ ἦμεν.

We know, then, that Pythagoras taught the kinship of beasts and men, and
we infer that his rule of abstinence from flesh was based, not upon
humanitarian or ascetic grounds, but on taboo. This is strikingly
confirmed by a fact which we are told in Porphyry’s _Defence of
Abstinence_. The statement in question does not indeed go back to
Theophrastos, as so much of Porphyry’s tract certainly does;[219] but it
is, in all probability, due to Herakleides of Pontos, and is to the
effect that, though the Pythagoreans did as a rule abstain from flesh,
they nevertheless ate it when they sacrificed to the gods.[220] Now,
among savage peoples, we often find that the sacred animal is slain and
eaten sacramentally by its kinsmen on certain solemn occasions, though
in ordinary circumstances this would be the greatest of all impieties.
Here, again, we have to do with a very primitive belief; and we need not
therefore attach any weight to the denials of Aristoxenos.[221]

Footnote 219:

  See Bernays, _Theophrastos’ Schrift über Frömmigkeit_. Porphyry’s
  tract, Περὶ ἀποχῆς ἐμψύχων, was doubtless saved from the general
  destruction of his writings by its conformity to the ascetic
  tendencies of the age. Even St. Jerome made constant use of it in his
  polemic against Iovianus, though he is careful not to mention
  Porphyry’s name (_Theophr. Schr._ n. 2). The tract is addressed to
  Castricius Firmus, the disciple and friend of Plotinos, who had fallen
  away from the strict vegetarianism of the Pythagoreans.

Footnote 220:

  The passage occurs _De Abst._ p. 58, 25 Nauck: ἱστοροῦσι δέ τινες καὶ
  αὐτοὺς ἅπτεσθαι τῶν ἐμψύχων τοὺς Πυθαγορείους, ὅτε θύοιεν θεοῖς. The
  part of the work from which this is taken comes from one Clodius, on
  whom see Bernay, _Theophr. Schr._ p. 11. He was probably the
  rhetorician Sextus Clodius, and a contemporary of Cicero. Bernays has
  shown that he made use of the work of Herakleides of Pontos (_ib._ n.
  19). On “mystic sacrifice” generally, see Robertson Smith, _Rel. Sem._
  i. p. 276.

Footnote 221:

  Porphyry (_V. Pyth._ c 15) has preserved a tradition to the effect
  that Pythagoras recommended a flesh diet for athletes (Milo?). This
  story must have originated at the same time as those related by
  Aristoxenos, and in a similar way. In fact, Bernays has shown that it
  comes from Herakleides of Pontos (_Theophr. Schr._ n. 8). Iamblichos
  (_V. Pyth._ 5. 25) and others (Diog. viii. 13, 47) got out of this by
  supposing it referred to a gymnast of the same name. We see here very
  distinctly how the Neoplatonists for their own ends endeavoured to go
  back to the original form of the Pythagorean legend, and to explain
  away the fourth century reconstruction.

[Sidenote: _Akousmata._]

44. We shall now know what to think of the various Pythagorean rules and
precepts which have come down to us. These are of two kinds, and have
very different sources. Some of them, derived from the collection of
Aristoxenos, and for the most part preserved by Iamblichos, are mere
precepts of morality. They do not pretend to go back to Pythagoras
himself; they are only the sayings which the last generation of
“Mathematicians” heard from their predecessors.[222] The second class is
of a very different nature, and the sayings which belong to it are
called _Akousmata_,[223] which points to their being the property of
that sect of Pythagoreans which had faithfully preserved the old
customs. Later writers interpret them as “symbols” of moral truth; but
their interpretations are extremely far-fetched, and it does not require
a very practised eye to see that they are genuine taboos of a thoroughly
primitive type. I give a few examples in order that the reader may judge
what the famous Pythagorean rule of life was really like.

 1. To abstain from beans.
 2. Not to pick up what has fallen.
 3. Not to touch a white cock.
 4. Not to break bread.
 5. Not to step over a crossbar.
 6. Not to stir the fire with iron.
 7. Not to eat from a whole loaf.
 8. Not to pluck a garland.
 9. Not to sit on a quart measure.
 10. Not to eat the heart.
 11. Not to walk on highways.
 12. Not to let swallows share one’s roof.
 13. When the pot is taken off the fire, not to leave the mark of it in
   the ashes, but to stir them together.
 14. Do not look in a mirror beside a light.
 15. When you rise from the bedclothes, roll them together and smooth
   out the impress of the body.

Footnote 222:

  For these see Diels, _Vors._ pp. 282 sqq.

Footnote 223:

  There is an excellent collection of Ἀκούσματα καὶ σύμβολα in Diels,
  _Vors._ pp. 279 sqq., where the authorities will be found. It is
  impossible to discuss these in detail here, but students of folklore
  will see at once to what order of ideas they belong.

It would be easy to multiply proofs of the close connexion between
Pythagoreanism and primitive modes of thought, but what has been said is
really sufficient for our purpose. The kinship of men and beasts, the
abstinence from flesh, and the doctrine of transmigration all hang
together and form a perfectly intelligible whole from the point of view
which has been indicated.

[Sidenote: Pythagoras as a man of science.]

45. Were this all, we should be tempted to delete the name of Pythagoras
from the history of philosophy altogether, and relegate him to the class
of “medicine-men” (γόητες) along with Epimenides and Onomakritos. This,
however, would be quite wrong. As we shall see, the Pythagorean Society
became one of the chief scientific schools of Hellas, and it is certain
that Pythagorean science as well as Pythagorean religion originated with
the master himself. Herakleitos, who is not partial to him, says that
Pythagoras had pursued scientific investigation further than other men,
though he also says that he turned his much learning into an art of
mischief.[224] Herodotos called Pythagoras “by no means the weakest
sophist of the Hellenes,” a title which at this date does not imply the
slightest disparagement.[225] Aristotle even said that Pythagoras first
busied himself with mathematics and numbers, and that it was later on he
attached himself to the miracle-mongering of Pherekydes.[226] Is it
possible for us to trace any connexion between these two sides of his
activity?

Footnote 224:

  Herakl. fr. 17 (R. P. 31 a). The word ἱστορίη is in itself quite
  general. What it chiefly means here we see from a valuable notice
  preserved by Iamblichos, _V. Pyth._ 89, ἐκαλεῖτο δὲ ἡ γεωμετρία πρὸς
  Πυθαγόρου ἱστορία. Tannery’s interpretation of this statement is based
  on a misunderstanding, and need not be discussed here.

Footnote 225:

  Herod. iv. 95.

Footnote 226:

  Arist. Περὶ τῶν Πυθαγορείων, fr. 186, 1510 a 39, Πυθαγόρας Μνησάρχου
  υἱὸς τὸ μὲν πρῶτον διεπονεῖτο περὶ τὰ μαθήματα καὶ τοὺς ἀριθμούς,
  ὕστερον δέ ποτε καὶ τῆς Φερεκύδου τερατοποιΐας οὐκ ἀπέστη.

We have seen that the aim of the Orphic and other _Orgia_ was to obtain
release from the “wheel of birth” by means of “purifications,” which
were generally of a very primitive type. The new thing in the Society
founded by Pythagoras seems to have been that, while it admitted all
these half-savage customs, it at the same time suggested a more exalted
idea of what “purification” really was. Aristoxenos tells us that the
Pythagoreans employed music to purge the soul as they used medicine to
purge the body, and it is abundantly clear that Aristotle’s famous
theory of κάθαρσις is derived from Pythagorean sources.[227] Such
methods of purifying the soul were familiar in the _Orgia_ of the
Korybantes, and will serve to explain the Pythagorean interest in
Harmonics. But there is more than this. If we can trust Herakleides so
far, it was Pythagoras who first distinguished the “three lives,” the
Theoretic, the Practical, and the Apolaustic, which Aristotle made use
of in the _Ethics_. The general theory of these lives is clear, and it
is impossible to doubt that in substance it belongs to the very
beginning of the school. It is to this effect. We are strangers in this
world, and the body is the tomb of the soul, and yet we must not seek to
escape by self-murder; for we are the chattels of God who is our
herdsman, and without his command we have no right to make our
escape.[228] In this life, there are three kinds of men, just as there
are three sorts of people who come to the Olympic Games. The lowest
class is made up of those who come to buy and sell, and next above them
are those who come to compete. Best of all, however, are those who come
simply to look on (θεωρεῖν). The greatest purification of all is,
therefore, disinterested science, and it is the man who devotes himself
to that, the true philosopher, who has most effectually released himself
from the “wheel of birth.” It would be rash to say that Pythagoras
expressed himself exactly in this manner; but all these ideas are
genuinely Pythagorean, and it is only in some such way that we can
bridge the gulf which separates Pythagoras the man of science from
Pythagoras the religious teacher.[229] We must now endeavour to discover
how much of the later Pythagorean science may reasonably be ascribed to
Pythagoras himself.

Footnote 227:

  Its immediate source is to be found in Plato, _Laws_, 790 d 2 sqq.,
  where the Korybantic rites are adduced as an instance. For a full
  account see Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 336, n. 2.

Footnote 228:

  Plato gives this as the Pythagorean view in _Phd._ 62 b, for the
  interpretation of which cf. Espinas in _Arch._ viii. pp. 449 sqq.
  Plato distinctly implies that it was not merely the theory of
  Philolaos, but something older.

Footnote 229:

  See Döring in _Arch._ v. pp. 505 sqq. There seems to be a reference to
  the theory of the “three lives” in Herakleitos, fr. 111. It was
  apparently taught in the Pythagorean Society of Phleious; for
  Herakleides made Pythagoras expound it in a conversation with the
  tyrant of Phleious (Cic. _Tusc._ v. 3; Diog. pr. 12, viii. 8), and it
  is developed by Plato in a dialogue which is, as it were, dedicated to
  Echekrates. If it should be thought that this is interpreting
  Pythagoras too much in the light of Schopenhauer, it may be answered
  that even the Orphics came very near such a theory. The soul must not
  drink of Lethe, but go past it and drink of the water of Memory,
  before it can claim to become one of the heroes. This has obvious
  points of contact with Plato’s ἀνάμνησις, and the only question is how
  much of the _Phaedo_ we are to ascribe to Pythagorean sources. A great
  deal, I suspect. See Prof. Stewart’s _Myths of Plato_, pp. 152 sqq.

[Sidenote: Arithmetic.]

46. In his treatise on Arithmetic, Aristoxenos said that Pythagoras was
the first to carry that study beyond the needs of commerce,[230] and his
statement is confirmed by everything we otherwise know. By the end of
the fifth century B.C., we find that there is a widespread interest in
such subjects and that these are studied for their own sake. Now this
new interest cannot have been wholly the work of a school; it must have
originated with some great man, and there is no one but Pythagoras to
whom we can refer it. As, however, he wrote nothing, we have no sure
means of distinguishing his own teaching from that of his followers in
the next generation or two. All we can safely say is that, the more
primitive any Pythagorean doctrine appears, the more likely it is to be
that of Pythagoras himself, and all the more so if it can be shown to
have points of contact with views which we know to have been held in his
own time or shortly before it. In particular, when we find the later
Pythagoreans teaching things that were already something of an
anachronism in their own day, we may be reasonably sure that we are
dealing with survivals which only the authority of the master’s name
could have preserved. Some of these must be mentioned at once, though
the developed system belongs to a later part of our story. It is only by
separating its earliest form from its later that the true place of
Pythagoreanism in Greek thought can be made clear, though we must always
remember that no one can now pretend to draw the line between its
successive stages with any certainty.

Footnote 230:

  Stob. i. p. 20, 1, ἐκ τῶν Ἀριστοξένου περὶ ἀριθμητικῆς, Τὴν δὲ περὶ
  τοὺς ἀριθμοὺς πραγματείαν μάλιστα πάντων τιμῆσαι δοκεῖ Πυθαγόρας καὶ
  προαγαγεῖν ἐπὶ τὸ πρόσθεν ἀπαγαγὼν ἀπὸ τῆς τῶν ἐμπόρων χρείας.

[Sidenote: The figures.]

47. Now one of the most remarkable statements that we have about
Pythagoreanism is what we are told of Eurytos on the unimpeachable
authority of Archytas. Eurytos was the disciple of Philolaos, and
Aristoxenos expressly mentioned him along with Philolaos as having
taught the last of the Pythagoreans, the men with whom he himself was
personally acquainted. He therefore belongs to the beginning of the
fourth century B.C., by which time the Pythagorean system was fully
developed, and he was no eccentric enthusiast, but one of the foremost
men in the school.[231] We are told of him, then, that he used to give
the number of all sorts of things, such as horses and men, and that he
demonstrated these by arranging pebbles in a certain way. It is to be
noted further that Aristotle compares his procedure to that of those who
bring numbers into figures like the triangle and the square.[232]

Footnote 231:

  Apart from the story in Iamblichos (_V. Pyth._ 148) that Eurytos heard
  the voice of Philolaos from the grave after he had been many years
  dead, it is to be noticed that he is mentioned after him in the
  statement of Aristoxenos referred to (Diog. viii. 46; R. P. 62).

Footnote 232:

  Arist. _Met._ Ν, 5. 1092 b 8 (R. P. 76 a). Aristotle does not quote
  the authority of Archytas here, but the source of his statement is
  made quite clear by Theophr. _Met._ p. vi. a 19 (Usener), τοῦτο γὰρ
  (sc. τὸ μὴ μέχρι του προελθόντα παύεσθαι) τελέου καὶ φρονοῦντος, ὅπερ
  Ἀρχύτας ποτ’ ἔφη ποιεῖν Εὔρυτον διατιθέντα τινὰς ψήφους· λέγειν γὰρ ὡς
  ὅδε μὲν ἀνθρώπου ὁ ἀριθμός, ὅδε δὲ ἵππου, ὅδε δ’ ἄλλου τινὸς τυγχάνει.

Now these statements, and especially the remark of Aristotle last
quoted, seem to imply the existence at this date, and earlier, of a
numerical symbolism quite distinct from the alphabetical notation on the
one hand and from the Euclidean representation of numbers by lines on
the other. The former was inconvenient for arithmetical purposes, just
because the zero was one of the few things the Greeks did not invent,
and they were therefore unable to develop a really serviceable numerical
symbolism based on position. The latter, as will appear shortly, is
intimately bound up with that absorption of arithmetic by geometry,
which is at least as old as Plato, but cannot be primitive.[233] It
seems rather that numbers were represented by dots arranged in
symmetrical and easily recognised patterns, of which the marking of dice
or dominoes gives us the best idea. And these markings are, in fact, the
best proof that this is a genuinely primitive method of indicating
numbers; for they are of unknown antiquity, and go back to the time when
men could only count by arranging numbers in such patterns, each of
which became, as it were, a fresh unit. This way of counting may well be
as old as reckoning with the fingers, or even older.

Footnote 233:

  Arithmetic is older than geometry, and was much more advanced in
  Egypt, though still in the form which the Greeks called λογιστική
  rather than as ἀριθμητική proper. Even Plato puts Arithmetic before
  Geometry in the _Republic_ in deference to the tradition. His own
  theory of number, however, suggested the inversion of this order which
  we find carried out in Euclid.

It is, therefore, very significant that we do not find any adequate
account of what Aristotle can have meant by “those who bring numbers
into figures like the triangle and the square” till we come to certain
late writers who called themselves Pythagoreans, and revived the study
of arithmetic as a science independent of geometry. These men not only
abandoned the linear symbolism of Euclid, but also regarded the
alphabetical notation, which they did use, as something conventional,
and inadequate to represent the true nature of number. Nikomachos of
Gerasa says expressly that the letters used to represent numbers are
only significant by human usage and convention. The most natural way
would be to represent linear or prime numbers by a row of units,
polygonal numbers by units arranged so as to mark out the various plane
figures, and solid numbers by units disposed in pyramids and so
forth.[234] He therefore gives us figures like this:—

                                         α              α α α
                         α      α α             ααα
          α     α α                     α α             α α α
                        α α     α α             ααα
                                        α α             α α α

Now it ought to be obvious that this is no innovation, but, like so many
things in Neopythagoreanism, a reversion to primitive usage. Of course
the employment of the letter _alpha_ to represent the units is derived
from the conventional notation; but otherwise we are clearly in presence
of something which belongs to the very earliest stage of the
science—something, in fact, which gives the only possible clue to the
meaning of Aristotle’s remark, and to what we are told of the method of
Eurytos.

Footnote 234:

  Nikomachos of Gerasa, _Introd. Arithm._ p. 83, 12, Hoche, Πρότερον δὲ
  ἐπιγνωστέον ὅτι ἕκαστον γράμμα ᾧ σημειούμεθα ἀριθμόν, οἷον τὸ ι, ᾧ τὸ
  δέκα, τὸ κ, ᾧ τὰ εἴκοσι, τὸ ω, ᾧ τὰ ὀκτακόσια, νόμῳ καὶ συνθήματι
  ἀνθρωπίνῳ, ἀλλ’ οὐ φύσει σημαντικόν, ἐστι τοῦ ἀριθμοῦ, κ.τ.λ. The same
  symbolism is used by Theo, _Expositio_, pp. 31 sqq. Cf. also Iambl.
  _Introd._ p. 56, 27, Pistelli, ἰστέον γὰρ ὡς τὸ παλαιὸν φυσικώτερον οἱ
  πρόσθεν ἐσημαίνοντο τὰς τοῦ ἀριθμοῦ ποσότητας, ἀλλ’ οὐχ ὥσπερ οἱ νῦν
  συμβολικῶς.

[Sidenote: Triangular, square, and oblong numbers.]

48. This is still further confirmed by the tradition which represents
the great revelation made by Pythagoras to mankind as having been
precisely a figure of this kind, namely the _tetraktys_, by which the
Pythagoreans used to swear,[235] and we have no less an authority than
Speusippos for holding that the whole theory which it implies was
genuinely Pythagorean.[236] In later days there were many kinds of
_tetraktys_,[237] but the original one, that by which the Pythagoreans
swore, was the “tetraktys of the dekad.” It was a figure like this—

                                   •
                                 •   •
                               •   •   •
                             •   •   •   •

and represented the number ten as the triangle of four. In other words,
it showed at a glance that 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 = 10. Speusippos tells us of
several properties which the Pythagoreans discovered in the dekad. It
is, for instance, the first number that has in it an equal number of
prime and composite numbers. How much of this goes back to Pythagoras
himself, we cannot tell; but we are probably justified in referring to
him the conclusion that it is “according to nature” that all Hellenes
and barbarians count up to ten and then begin over again.

Footnote 235:

  Cf. the formula Οὐ μὰ τὸν ἁμετέρᾳ γενεᾷ παραδόντα τετρακτύν, which is
  all the more likely to be old that it is put into the mouth of
  Pythagoras by the forger of the Χρυσᾶ ἔπη, thus making him swear by
  himself! See Diels, _Arch._ iii. p. 457. The Doric dialect shows,
  however, that it belongs to the later generations of the school.

Footnote 236:

  Speusippos wrote a work on the Pythagorean numbers, based chiefly on
  Philolaos, and a considerable fragment of it is preserved in the
  _Theologumena Arithmetica_. It will be found in Diels,
  _Vorsokratiker_, p. 235, 15, and is discussed by Tannery, _Science
  hellène_, pp. 374 sqq.

Footnote 237:

  For these see Theon, _Expositio_, pp. 93 sqq. Hiller. The τετρακτύς
  used by Plato in the _Timaeus_ is the second described by Theon
  (_Exp._ p. 94, 10 sqq.). It is no doubt Pythagorean, but hardly as old
  as Pythagoras.

It is obvious that the _tetraktys_ may be indefinitely extended so as to
exhibit the sums of the series of successive numbers in a graphic form,
and these sums are accordingly called “triangular numbers.”

For similar reasons, the sums of the series of successive odd numbers
are called “square numbers,” and those of successive even numbers
“oblong.” If odd numbers are added to the unit in the form of _gnomons_,
the result is always a similar figure, namely a square, while, if even
numbers are added, we get a series of rectangles,[238] as shown by the
figure:—

                  Square Numbers.      Oblong Numbers.
                 ─────────────┐       ───────────────┐
                 •    •    •  │       •   •   •    • │
                 ───────┐     │       ───────────┐   │
                 •    • │  •  │       •   •   •  │ • │
                 ──┐    │     │       ──────┐    │   │
                 • │  • │  •  │       •   • │ •  │ • │

It is clear, then, that we are entitled to refer the study of sums of
series to Pythagoras himself; but whether he went beyond the oblong, and
studied pyramidal or cubic numbers, we cannot say.[239]

Footnote 238:

  Cf. Milhaud, _Philosophes géomètres_, pp. 115 sqq. Aristotle puts the
  matter thus (_Phys._ Γ, 4. 203 a 13): περιτιθεμένων γὰρ τῶν γνωμόνων
  περὶ τὸ ἓν καὶ χωρὶς ὁτὲ μὲν ἄλλο ἀεὶ γίγνεσθαι τὸ εἶδος, ὁτὲ δὲ ἕν.
  This is more clearly stated by Ps.-Plut. (Stob. i. p. 22, 16), Ἔτι δὲ
  τῇ μονάδι τῶν ἐφεξῆς περισσῶν περιτιθεμένων ὁ γινόμενος ἀεὶ τετράγωνός
  ἐστι· τῶν δὲ ἀρτίων ὁμοίως περιτιθεμένων ἑτερομήκεις καὶ ἄνισοι πάντες
  ἀποβαίνουσιν, ἴσως δὲ ἰσάκις οὐδείς. I cannot feel satisfied with any
  of the explanations which have been given of the words καὶ χωρίς in
  the Aristotelian passage (see Zeller, p. 351, n. 2), and I would
  therefore suggest ταῖς χώραις comparing Boutheros (Stob. i. p. 19, 9),
  who says, according to the MS. reading, Καὶ ὁ μὲν (ὁ περισσός), ὁπόταν
  γεννῶνται ἀνὰ λόγον καὶ πρὸς μονάδας, ταῖς αὑτοῦ χώραις καταλαμβάνει
  τοὺς ταῖς γραμμαῖς περιεχομένους (sc. ἀριθμούς).

Footnote 239:

  In the fragment referred to above (p. 113, _n._ 236), Speusippos
  speaks of four as the first pyramidal number; but this is taken from
  Philolaos, so we cannot safely ascribe it to Pythagoras.

[Sidenote: Geometry and harmonics.]

49. It is easy to see how this way of representing numbers would suggest
problems of a geometrical nature. The dots which stand for the pebbles
are regularly called “boundary-stones” (ὅροι, _termini_, “terms”), and
the area which they occupy, or rather mark out, is the “field”
(χώρα).[240] This is evidently a very early way of speaking, and may
therefore be referred to Pythagoras himself. Now it must have struck him
that “fields” could be compared as well as numbers,[241] and it is even
likely that he knew the rough methods of doing this which were
traditional in Egypt, though certainly these would fail to satisfy him.
Once more the tradition is singularly helpful in suggesting the
direction that his thoughts must have taken. He knew, of course, the use
of the triangle 3, 4, 5 in constructing right angles. We have seen (p.
24) that it was familiar in the East from a very early date, and that
Thales introduced it to the Hellenes, if they did not know it already.
In later writers it is actually called the “Pythagorean triangle.” Now
the Pythagorean proposition _par excellence_ is just that, in a
right-angled triangle, the square on the hypotenuse is equal to the
squares on the other two sides, and the so-called Pythagorean triangle
is the application of its converse to a particular case. The very name
“hypotenuse” affords strong confirmation of the intimate connexion
between the two things. It means literally “the cord stretching over
against,” and this is surely just the rope of the “harpedonapt.”[242] An
early tradition says that Pythagoras sacrificed an ox when he discovered
the proof of this proposition, and indeed it was the real foundation of
scientific mathematics.[243]

Footnote 240:

  We have ὅροι of a series (ἔκθεσις), then of a proportion, and in later
  times of a syllogism. The signs :, ::, and ∴ are a survival of the
  original use. The term χώρα is often used by the later Pythagoreans,
  though Attic usage required χωρίον for a rectangle. The spaces between
  the γραμμαί of the _abacus_ and the chess-board were also called
  χῶραι.

Footnote 241:

  In his commentary on Euclid i. 44, Proclus tells us on the authority
  of Eudemos that the παραβολή, ἔλλειψις, and ὑπερβολή of χωρία were
  Pythagorean inventions. For an account of these and the subsequent
  application of the terms in Conic Sections, see Milhaud, _Philosophes
  géomètres_, pp. 81 sqq.

Footnote 242:

  The verb ὑποτείνειν is, of course, used intransitively. The
  explanation suggested in the text seems to me much simpler than that
  of Max C. P. Schmidt (_Kulturhistorische Beiträge_, Heft i. pp. 64
  sqq.). He explains the hypotenuse as the longest string in a
  triangular harp; but my view seems more in accordance with analogy. So
  ἡ κάθετος is, literally, a plumb-line.

Footnote 243:

  The statement comes from Eudemos; for it is found in Proclus’s
  commentary on Euclid i. 47. Whether historical or not, it is no
  Neopythagorean fancy.

[Sidenote: Incommensurability.]

50. One great disappointment, however, awaited Pythagoras. It follows at
once from the Pythagorean proposition that the square on the diagonal of
a square is double the square on its side, and this ought surely to be
capable of numerical expression. As a matter of fact, however, there is
no square number which can be divided into two equal square numbers, and
so the problem cannot be solved. In this sense, it is doubtless true
that Pythagoras discovered the incommensurability of the diagonal and
the side of a square, and the proof mentioned by Aristotle, namely,
that, if they were commensurable, we should have to say that an even
number was equal to an odd number, is distinctly Pythagorean in
character.[244] However that may be, it is certain that Pythagoras did
not care to pursue the subject any further. He had, as it were, stumbled
on the fact that the square root of two is a surd, but we know that it
was left for Plato’s friends, Theodoros of Kyrene and Theaitetos, to
give a complete theory of the matter.[245] The fact is that the
discovery of the Pythagorean proposition, by giving birth to geometry,
had really superseded the old view of quantity as a sum of units; but it
was not till Plato’s time that the full consequences of this were
seen.[246] For the present, the incommensurability of the diagonal and
the square remained, as has been said, a “scandalous exception.” Our
tradition says that Hippasos of Metapontion was drowned at sea for
revealing this skeleton in the cupboard.[247]

Footnote 244:

  Arist. _An. Pr._ Α, 23. 41 a 26, ὅτι ἀσύμμετρος ἡ διάμετρος διὰ τὸ
  γίγνεσθαι τὰ περιττὰ ἴσα τοῖς ἀρτίοις συμμέτρου τεθείσης. The proofs
  given at the end of Euclid’s Tenth Book (vol. iii. pp. 408 sqq.,
  Heiberg) turn on this very point. They are not Euclidean, and may be
  substantially Pythagorean. Cf. Milhaud, _Philosophes géomètres_, p.
  94.

Footnote 245:

  Plato, _Theaet._ 147 d 3 sqq.

Footnote 246:

  How novel these consequences were, is shown by the fact that in
  _Laws_, 819 d 5, the Athenian Stranger says that he had only realised
  them late in life.

Footnote 247:

  This version of the tradition is mentioned in Iamblichos, _V. Pyth._
  247, and looks older than the other, which we shall come to later (§
  148). Hippasos is the _enfant terrible_ of Pythagoreanism, and the
  traditions about him are full of instruction.

[Sidenote: Proportion and harmony.]

51. These last considerations show that, while it is quite safe to
attribute the substance of the First Book of Euclid to Pythagoras, the
arithmetic of Books VII.-IX., and the “geometrical algebra” of Book II.
are certainly not his. They operate with lines or with areas instead of
with units, and the relations which they establish therefore hold good
whether they are capable of numerical expression or not. That is
doubtless why arithmetic is not treated in Euclid till after plane
geometry, a complete inversion of the original order. For the same
reason, the doctrine of proportion which we find in Euclid cannot be
Pythagorean, and is indeed the work of Eudoxos. Yet it is clear that the
early Pythagoreans, and probably Pythagoras himself, studied proportion
in their own way, and that the three “medieties” in particular go back
to the founder, especially as the most complicated of them, the
“harmonic,” stands in close relation to his discovery of the octave. If
we take the harmonic proportion 12 : 8 : 6,[248] we find that 12 : 6 is
the octave, 12 : 8 the fifth, and 8 : 6 the fourth, and it can hardly be
doubted that it was Pythagoras himself who discovered these intervals.
The stories which have come down to us about his observing the harmonic
intervals in a smithy, and then weighing the hammers that produced them,
or of his suspending weights corresponding to those of the hammers to
equal strings, are, indeed, impossible and absurd; but it is sheer waste
of time to rationalise them.[249] For our purpose their absurdity is
their chief merit. They are not stories which any Greek mathematician or
musician could possibly have invented, but genuine popular tales bearing
witness to the existence of a real tradition that Pythagoras was the
author of this momentous discovery.

Footnote 248:

  Plato (_Tim._ 36 a 3) defines the harmonic mean as τὴν ... ταὐτῷ μέρει
  τῶν ἄκρων αὐτῶν ὑπερέχουσαν καὶ ὑπερεχομένην. The harmonic mean of 12
  and 6 is therefore 8; for 8 = 12 - 12/3 = 6 + 6/3.

Footnote 249:

  For these stories and a criticism of them, see Max C. P. Schmidt,
  _Kulturhistorische Beiträge_, i. pp. 78 sqq. The smith’s hammers
  belong to the region of _Märchen_, and it is not true either that the
  notes would be determined by the weight of the hammers, or that, if
  they were, the weights hung to equal strings would produce the notes.
  These inaccuracies were pointed out by Montucla (Martin, _Études sur
  le Timée_, i. p. 391).

[Sidenote: Things are numbers.]

52. It was this too, no doubt, that led Pythagoras to say all things
were numbers. We shall see that, at a later date, the Pythagoreans
identified these numbers with geometrical figures; but the mere fact
that they called them “numbers,” when taken in connexion with what we
are told about the method of Eurytos, is sufficient to show this was not
the original sense of the doctrine. It is enough to suppose that
Pythagoras reasoned somewhat as follows. If musical sounds can be
reduced to numbers, why should not everything else? There are many
likenesses to number in things, and it may well be that a lucky
experiment, like that by which the octave was discovered, will reveal
their true numerical nature. The Neopythagorean writers, going back in
this as in other matters to the earliest tradition of the school,
indulge their fancy in tracing out analogies between things and numbers
in endless variety; but we are fortunately dispensed from following them
in these vagaries. Aristotle tells us distinctly that the Pythagoreans
explained only a few things by means of numbers,[250] which means that
Pythagoras himself left no developed doctrine on the subject, while the
Pythagoreans of the fifth century did not care to add anything of the
sort to the school tradition. Aristotle does imply, however, that,
according to them the “right time” (καιρός) was seven, justice was four,
and marriage three. These identifications, with a few others like them,
we may safely refer to Pythagoras or his immediate successors; but we
must not attach much importance to them. They are mere sports of the
analogical fancy. If we wish to understand the cosmology of Pythagoras,
we must start, not from them, but from any statements we can find that
present points of contact with the teaching of the Milesian school.
These, we may fairly infer, belong to the system in its most primitive
form.

Footnote 250:

  Arist. _Met._ Μ, 4. 1078 b 21 (R. P. 78); Zeller, p. 390, n. 2. The
  _Theologumena Arithmetica_, wrongly attributed to Nikomachos of
  Gerasa, is full of fanciful doctrine on this subject (R. P. 78 a).
  Alexander _in Met._ p. 38, 8, gives a few definitions which may be old
  (R. P. 78 c).

[Sidenote: Cosmology.]

53. Now the most striking statement of this kind is one of Aristotle’s.
The Pythagoreans held, he tells us, that there was “boundless breath”
outside the heavens, and that it was inhaled by the world.[251] In
substance, this is the doctrine of Anaximenes, and it becomes
practically certain that it was that of Pythagoras, when we find that
Xenophanes denied it.[252] We may infer, then, that the further
development of the idea is also due to Pythagoras himself. We are told
that, after the first unit had been formed—however that may have taken
place—the nearest part of the Boundless was first drawn in and
limited;[253] and further, that it is just the Boundless thus inhaled
that keeps the units separate from each other.[254] It represents the
interval between them. This is a very primitive way of describing the
nature of discrete quantity.

Footnote 251:

  Arist. _Phys._ Δ, 6. 213 b 22 (R. P. 75).

Footnote 252:

  Diog. ix. 19 (R. P. 103 c). It is true that Diogenes is here drawing
  from a biographical rather than a doxographical source (_Dox._ p.
  168), but this touch can hardly be an invention.

Footnote 253:

  Arist. _Met._ Μ, 3. 1091 a 13 (R. P. 74).

Footnote 254:

  Arist. _Phys._ Δ, 6. 213 b 23 (R. P. 75 a). The words διορίζει τὰς
  φύσεις have caused unnecessary difficulty, because they have been
  supposed to attribute the function of limiting to the ἄπειρον.
  Aristotle makes it quite clear that his meaning is that stated in the
  text. Cf. especially the words χωρισμοῦ τινος τῶν ἐφεξῆς καὶ
  διορίσεως. The term διωρισμένον is the proper antithesis to συνεχές.
  In his work on the Pythagorean philosophy, Aristotle used instead the
  phrase διορίζει τὰς χώρας (Stob. i. p. 156, 8; R. P. 75), which is
  also quite intelligible if we remember what the Pythagoreans meant by
  χώρα (cf. p. 115, _n._ 240).

In the passages of Aristotle just referred to, the Boundless is also
spoken of as the void or empty. This identification of air and the void
is a confusion which we have already met with in Anaximenes, and it need
not surprise us to find it here too.[255] We find also, as we might
expect, distinct traces of the other confusion, that of air and vapour.
It seems certain, in fact, that Pythagoras identified the Limit with
fire, and the Boundless with darkness. We are told by Aristotle that
Hippasos made Fire the first principle,[256] and we shall see that
Parmenides, in discussing the opinions of his contemporaries, attributes
to them the view that there were two primary “forms,” Fire and
Night.[257] We also find that Light and Darkness appear in the
Pythagorean table of opposites under the heads of the Limit and the
Unlimited respectively.[258] The identification of breath with darkness
here implied is a strong proof of the primitive character of the
doctrine; for in the sixth century darkness was supposed to be a sort of
vapour, while in the fifth, its true nature was well known. Plato, with
his usual historical tact, makes the Pythagorean Timaios describe mist
and darkness as condensed air.[259] We must think, then, of a “field” of
darkness or breath marked out by luminous units, an imagination which
the starry heavens would naturally suggest. It is even probable that we
should ascribe to Pythagoras the Milesian view of a plurality of worlds,
though it would not have been natural for him to speak of an infinite
number. We know, at least, that Petron, one of the early Pythagoreans,
said there were just a hundred and eighty-three worlds arranged in a
triangle;[260] and Plato makes Timaios admit, when laying down that
there is only one world, that something might be urged in favour of the
view that there are five, as there are five regular solids.[261]

Footnote 255:

  Cf. Arist. _Phys._ Δ, 6. 213 a 27, οἱ δ’ ἄνθρωποι ... φασὶν ἐν ᾦ ὅλως
  μηδέν ἐστι, τοῦτ’ εἶναι κενόν, διὸ τὸ πλῆρες ἀέρος κενὸν εἶναι; _de
  Part. An._ Β, 10. 656 b 15, τὸ γὰρ κενὸν καλούμενον ἀέρος πλῆρές ἐστι;
  _de An._ Β, 10 419 b 34, δοκεῖ γὰρ εἶναι κενὸν ὁ ἀήρ.

Footnote 256:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 3. 984 a 7 (R. P. 56 c).

Footnote 257:

  See Chap. IV. § 91.

Footnote 258:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 5. 986 a 25 (R. P. 66).

Footnote 259:

  Plato, _Tim._ 58 d 2.

Footnote 260:

  This is quoted by Plutarch, _de def. orac._ 422 b, d, from Phanias of
  Eresos, who gave it on the authority of Hippys of Rhegion. If we may
  follow Wilamowitz (_Hermes_, xix. p. 444) in supposing that this
  really means Hippasos of Metapontion (and it was in Rhegion that the
  Pythagoreans took refuge), this is a very valuable piece of evidence.

Footnote 261:

  Plato, _Tim._ 55 c 7 sqq.

[Sidenote: The heavenly bodies.]

54. Anaximander had regarded the heavenly bodies as wheels of “air”
filled with fire which escapes through certain openings (§ 19), and
there is evidence that Pythagoras adopted the same view.[262] We have
seen that Anaximander only assumed the existence of three such wheels,
and held that the wheel of the sun was the lowest. It is extremely
probable that Pythagoras identified the intervals between these rings
with the three musical intervals which he had discovered, the fourth,
the fifth, and the octave. That would be the most natural beginning for
the later doctrine of the “harmony of the spheres,” though that
expression would be doubly misleading if applied to any theory we can
properly ascribe to Pythagoras himself. The word ἁρμονία does not mean
harmony, and the “spheres” are an anachronism. We are still at the stage
when wheels or rings were considered sufficient to account for the
motions of the heavenly bodies. It is also to be observed that sun,
moon, planets, and fixed stars must all be regarded as moving in the
same direction from east to west. Pythagoras certainly did not ascribe
to the planets an orbital motion of their own from west to east. The old
idea was rather that they were left behind more or less every day. As
compared with the fixed stars, Saturn is left behind least of all, and
the Moon most; so, instead of saying that the Moon took a shorter time
than Saturn to complete its path through the signs of the Zodiac, men
said Saturn travelled quicker than the Moon, because it more nearly
succeeds in keeping up with the signs. Instead of holding that Saturn
takes thirty years to complete its revolution, they said it took the
fixed stars thirty years to pass Saturn, and only twenty-nine days and a
half to pass the Moon. This is one of the most important points to bear
in mind regarding the planetary systems of the Greeks, and we shall
return to it again.[263]

Footnote 262:

  This will be found in Chap. IV. § 93.

Footnote 263:

  For a clear statement of this view (which was still that of
  Demokritos), see Lucretius, v. 621 sqq. The view that the planets had
  an orbital motion from west to east is attributed by Aetios, ii. 16,
  3, to Alkmaion (§ 96), which certainly implies that Pythagoras did not
  hold it. As we shall see (§ 152), it is far from clear that any of the
  Pythagoreans did. It seems rather to be Plato’s discovery.

The account just given of the views of Pythagoras is, no doubt,
conjectural and incomplete. We have simply assigned to him those
portions of the Pythagorean system which appear to be the oldest, and it
has not even been possible at this stage to cite fully the evidence on
which our discussion is based. It will only appear in its true light
when we have examined the second part of the poem of Parmenides and the
system of the later Pythagoreans.[264] For reasons which will then be
apparent, I do not venture to ascribe to Pythagoras himself the theory
of the earth’s revolution round the central fire. It seems safest to
suppose that he still adhered to the geocentric hypothesis of
Anaximander. In spite of this, however, it will be clear that he opened
a new period in the development of Greek science, and it was certainly
to his school that its greatest discoveries were directly or indirectly
due. When Plato deliberately attributes some of his own most important
discoveries to the Pythagoreans, he was acknowledging in a
characteristic way the debt he owed them.

Footnote 264:

  See Chap. IV. §§ 92-93, and Chap. VII. §§ 150-152.


                       II. XENOPHANES OF KOLOPHON

[Sidenote: Life.]

55. We have seen how Pythagoras identified himself with the religious
movement of his time; we have now to consider a very different
manifestation of the reaction against that view of the gods which the
poets had made familiar to every one. Xenophanes denied the
anthropomorphic gods altogether, but was quite unaffected by the revival
of more primitive ideas that was going on all round him. We still have a
fragment of an elegy in which he ridiculed Pythagoras and the doctrine
of transmigration. “Once, they say, he was passing by when a dog was
being ill-treated. ‘Stop!’ he said, ‘don’t hit it! It is the soul of a
friend! I knew it when I heard its voice.’”[265] We are also told that
he opposed the views of Thales and Pythagoras, and attacked Epimenides,
which is likely enough, though no fragments of the kind have come down
to us.[266] His chief importance lies in the fact that he was the author
of the quarrel between philosophy and poetry which culminated in Plato’s
_Republic_.

Footnote 265:

  See fr. 7 (= 18 Karst.), _ap._ Diog. viii. 36 (R. P. 88).

Footnote 266:

  Diog. ix. 18 (R. P. 97). We know that Xenophanes referred to the
  prediction of an eclipse by Thales (Chap. I. p. 41, _n._ 62). We shall
  see that his own view of the sun was hardly consistent with the
  possibility of such a prediction, so it may have been in connexion
  with this that he opposed him.

It is not easy to determine the date of Xenophanes. Timaios said he was
a contemporary of Hieron and Epicharmos, and he certainly seems to have
played a part in the anecdotical romance of Hieron’s court which amused
the Greeks of the fourth century much as that of Croesus and the Seven
Wise Men amused those of the fifth.[267] As Hieron reigned from 478 to
467 B.C., that would make it impossible to date the birth of Xenophanes
much earlier than 570 B.C., even if we suppose him to have lived till
the age of a hundred. On the other hand, both Sextus and Clement say
that Apollodoros gave Ol. XL. (620-616 B.C.) as the date of his birth,
and the former adds that his days were prolonged till the time of
Dareios and Cyrus.[268] Again, Diogenes, whose information on such
matters mostly comes from Apollodoros, says that he flourished in Ol.
LX. (540-537 B.C.), and Diels holds that Apollodoros really said
so.[269] However that may be, it is evident that the date 540 B.C. is
based on the assumption that he went to Elea in the year of its
foundation, and is, therefore, a mere combination.[270]

Footnote 267:

  Timaios _ap._ Clem. _Strom._ i. p. 533 (R. P. 95). There is only one
  anecdote which actually represents Xenophanes in conversation with
  Hieron (Plut. _Reg. apophth._ 175 e), but it is natural to understand
  Arist. _Met._ Γ, 5. 1010 a 4 as an allusion to a remark made by
  Epicharmos to him. Aristotle has more than one anecdote about
  Xenophanes, and it seems most likely that he derived them from the
  romance of which Xenophon’s _Strom._ is an echo.

Footnote 268:

  Clem., _loc. cit._; Sext. _Strom._ i. 257. The mention of Cyrus is
  confirmed by Hipp. _Strom._ i. 94. Diels thinks that Dareios was
  mentioned first for metrical reasons; but no one has satisfactorily
  explained why Cyrus should be mentioned at all, unless the early date
  was intended. On the whole subject, see Jacoby, pp. 204 sqq., who is
  certainly wrong in supposing that ἄχρι τῶν Δαρείου καὶ Κύρου χρόνων
  can mean “during the times of Dareios and Cyrus.”

Footnote 269:

  _Strom._ xxxi. p. 22. He assumes an early corruption of N into M. As
  Apollodoros gave the Athenian archon, and not the Olympiad, we might
  with more probability suppose a confusion due to two archons having
  the same name.

Footnote 270:

  As Elea was founded by the Phokaians six years after they left Phokaia
  (Herod. i. 164 sqq.) its date is just 540-39 B.C. Cf. the way in which
  Apollodoros dated Empedokles by the era of Thourioi (§ 98).

What we do know for certain is that Xenophanes had led a wandering life
from the age of twenty-five, and that he was still alive and making
poetry at the age of ninety-two. He says himself (fr. 8 = 24 Karst.; R.
P. 97):—

  There are by this time threescore years and seven that have tossed my
  careworn soul[271] up and down the land of Hellas; and there were then
  five-and-twenty years from my birth, if I can say aught truly about
  these matters.

Footnote 271:

  Bergk (_Litteraturgesch._ ii. p. 418, n. 23) took φροντίς here to mean
  the literary work of Xenophanes, but it is surely an anachronism to
  suppose that at this date it could be used like the Latin _cura_.

It is tempting to suppose that in this passage Xenophanes was referring
to the conquest of Ionia by Harpagos, and that he is, in fact, answering
the question asked in another poem[272] (fr. 22 = 17 Karst.; R. P. 95
a):—

  This is the sort of thing we should say by the fireside in the
  winter-time, as we lie on soft couches after a good meal, drinking
  sweet wine and crunching chickpeas: “Of what country are you, and how
  old are you, good sir? And how old were you when the Mede appeared?”

Footnote 272:

  It was certainly another poem; for it is in hexameters while the
  preceding fragment is in elegiacs.

We cannot, however, be sure of this, and we must be content with what
is, after all, for our purpose the main fact, namely, that he refers to
Pythagoras in the past tense, and is in turn so referred to by
Herakleitos.[273]

Footnote 273:

  Xenophanes, fr. 7 (above, p. 124, _n._ 265); Herakleitos, frs. 16, 17
  (below, p. 147).

Theophrastos said that Xenophanes had “heard” Anaximander,[274] and we
shall see that he was certainly acquainted with the Ionian cosmology.
When driven from his native city, he lived in Sicily, chiefly, we are
told, at Zankle and Katana.[275] Like Archilochos before him, he
unburdened his soul in elegies and satires, which he recited at the
banquets where, we may suppose, the refugees tried to keep up the usages
of good Ionian society. The statement that he was a rhapsode has no
foundation at all.[276] The singer of elegies was no professional like
the rhapsode, but the social equal of his listeners. In his
ninety-second year he was still, we have seen, leading a wandering life,
which is hardly consistent with the statement that he settled at Elea
and founded a school there, especially if we are to think of him as
spending his last days at Hieron’s court. It is quite probable that he
visited Elea, and it is just possible that he wrote a poem of two
thousand hexameters on the foundation of that city, which was naturally
a subject of interest to all the Ionic _émigrés_.[277] But it is very
remarkable that no ancient writer expressly says that he ever was at
Elea, and the only thing besides the doubtful poem referred to which
connects him with it is a single anecdote of Aristotle’s as to the
answer he gave the Eleates when they asked whether they should sacrifice
to Leukothea and lament her or not. “If you think her a goddess,” he
said, “do not lament her; if not, do not sacrifice to her.” That is
absolutely all, and it is only an apophthegm.[278] It is strange there
should be no more if Xenophanes had really found a home at last in the
Phokaian colony.

Footnote 274:

  Diog. ix. 21 (R. P. 96 a).

Footnote 275:

  Diog. ix. 18 (R. P. 96). The use of the old name Zankle, instead of
  the later Messene, points to an early source for this
  statement—probably the elegies of Xenophanes himself.

Footnote 276:

  Diog. ix. 18 (R. P. 97) says αὐτὸς ἐρραψῴδει τὰ ἑαυτοῦ, which is a
  very different thing. Nothing is said anywhere of his reciting Homer,
  and the word ῥαψῳδεῖν is used quite loosely for “to recite.” Gomperz’s
  imaginative picture (_Greek Thinkers_, vol. i. p. 155) has no further
  support than this single word. Nor is there any trace of Homeric
  influence in the fragments. They are in the usual elegiac style.

Footnote 277:

  The statement is justly suspected by Hiller (_Rh. Mus._ xxxiii. p.
  529) to come from Lobon of Argos, who provided the Seven Wise Men,
  Epimenides, etc., with stichometric notices, all duly recorded in
  Diogenes. Even if true, however, it proves nothing.

Footnote 278:

  Arist. _Rhet._ Β, 26. 1400 b 5 (R. P. 98 a). Anecdotes like this are
  really anonymous. Plutarch transfers the story to Egypt (_P. Ph. Fr._
  p. 22, § 13), and others tell it of Herakleitos. It is hardly safe to
  build on such a foundation.

[Sidenote: Poems.]

56. According to a notice preserved in Diogenes, Xenophanes wrote in
hexameters and also composed elegies and iambics against Homer and
Hesiod.[279] No good authority says anything about his having written a
philosophical poem.[280] Simplicius tells us he had never met with the
verses about the earth stretching infinitely downwards (fr. 28),[281]
and this means that the Academy possessed no copy of such a poem, which
would be very strange if it had ever existed. Simplicius was able to
find the complete works of much smaller men. Nor does internal evidence
lend any support to the view that he wrote a philosophical poem. Diels
refers about twenty-eight lines to it, but they would all come in quite
as naturally in his attacks on Homer and Hesiod, as I have endeavoured
to show. It is also significant that a considerable number of them are
derived from commentators on Homer.[282] It seems probable, then, that
Xenophanes expressed his theological and philosophical views
incidentally in his satires. That would be quite in the manner of the
time, as we can see from the remains of Epicharmos.

Footnote 279:

  Diog. ix. 18 (R. P. 97). The word ἐπικόπτων is a reminiscence of
  Timon, fr. 60; Diels, Ξεινοφάνης ὑπάτυφος Ὁμηραπάτης ἐπικόπτης.

Footnote 280:

  The oldest reference to a poem Περὶ φύσεως is in the Geneva scholium
  on _Il._ xxi. 196 (quoting fr. 30), and this goes back to Krates of
  Mallos. We must remember, however, that such titles are of later date
  than Xenophanes, and he had been given a place among philosophers long
  before the time of Krates. All we can say, therefore, is that the
  Pergamene librarians gave the title Περὶ φύσεως to some poem of
  Xenophanes.

Footnote 281:

  Simpl. _de Caelo_, p. 522, 7 (R. P. 97 b). It is true that two of our
  fragments (25 and 26) are preserved by Simplicius, but he got them
  from Alexander. Probably they were quoted by Theophrastos; for it is
  plain that Alexander had no first-hand knowledge of Xenophanes either.
  If he had, he would not have been taken in by _M.X.G._ (See p. 138,
  _n._ 305.)

Footnote 282:

  Three fragments (27, 31, 33) come from the _Homeric Allegories_, two
  (30, 32) are from Homeric scholia.

The satires themselves are called _Silloi_ by late writers, and this
name may go back to Xenophanes himself. It is also possible, however,
that it originates in the fact that Timon of Phleious, the
“sillographer” (_c._ 259 B.C.), put much of his satire upon philosophers
into the mouth of Xenophanes. Only one iambic line has been preserved,
and that is immediately followed by a hexameter (fr. 14 = 5 Karst.).
This suggests that Xenophanes inserted iambic lines among his hexameters
in the manner of the _Margites_, which would be a very natural thing for
him to do.[283]

Footnote 283:

  Cf. Wilamowitz, Progr. Gryphiswald. 1880.

[Sidenote: The fragments.]

57. I give all the fragments of any importance according to the text and
arrangement of Diels.

                                 ELEGIES

                                   (1)

  Now is the floor clean, and the hands and cups of all; one sets
  twisted garlands on our heads, another hands us fragrant ointment on a
  salver. The mixing bowls stand ready, full of gladness, and there is
  more wine at hand that promises never to leave us in the lurch, soft
  and smelling of flowers in the jars. In the midst the frankincense
  sends up its holy smoke, and there is cold water, sweet and clean.
  Brown loaves are set before us and a lordly table laden with cheese
  and rich honey. The altar in the midst is clustered round with
  flowers; song and revel fill the halls.

  But first it is meet that men should hymn the god with joyful song,
  with holy tales and pure words; then after libation and prayer made
  that we may have strength to do right—for that is in truth the better
  way—no sin is it to drink as much as a man can take and get home
  without an attendant, so he be not stricken in years. And above all
  men is he to be praised who after drinking gives goodly proof of
  himself in the trial of skill, as memory and voice will serve him. Let
  him not sing of Titans and Giants—those fictions of the men of old—nor
  of turbulent civil broils in which is no good thing at all; but ever
  give heedful reverence to the gods.

                                   (2)

  What if a man win victory in swiftness of foot, or in the
  _pentathlon_, at Olympia, where is the precinct of Zeus by Pisa’s
  springs, or in wrestling,—what if by cruel boxing or that fearful
  sport men call _pankration_ he become more glorious in the citizens’
  eyes, and win a place of honour in the sight of all at the games, his
  food at the public cost from the State, and a gift to be an heirloom
  for him,—what if he conquer in the chariot-race,—he will not deserve
  all this for his portion so much as I do. Far better is our art than
  the strength of men and of horses! These are but thoughtless
  judgments, nor is it fitting to set strength before our art. Even if
  there arise a mighty boxer among a people, or one great in the
  _pentathlon_ or at wrestling, or one excelling in swiftness of
  foot—and that stands in honour before all tasks of men at the
  games—the city would be none the better governed for that. It is but
  little joy a city gets of it if a man conquer at the games by Pisa’s
  banks; it is not this that makes fat the store-houses of a city.

                                   (3)

  They learnt dainty and unprofitable ways from the Lydians, so long as
  they were free from hateful tyranny; they went to the market-place
  with cloaks of purple dye, not less than a thousand of them all told,
  vainglorious and proud of their comely tresses, reeking with fragrance
  from cunning salves.


                                 SATIRES

                                   (10)

  Since all at first have learnt according to Homer....

                                   (11)

  Homer and Hesiod have ascribed to the gods all things that are a shame
  and a disgrace among mortals, stealings and adulteries and deceivings
  of one another. R. P. 99.

                                   (12)

  They have uttered many, many lawless deeds of the gods, stealings and
  adulteries and deceivings of one another. R. P. _ib._

                                   (14)

  But mortals deem that the gods are begotten as they are, and have
  clothes[284] like theirs, and voice and form. R. P. 100.

                                   (15)

  Yes, and if oxen and horses or lions had hands, and could paint with
  their hands, and produce works of art as men do, horses would paint
  the forms of the gods like horses, and oxen like oxen, and make their
  bodies in the image of their several kinds. R. P. _ib._

                                   (16)

  The Ethiopians make their gods black and snub-nosed; the Thracians say
  theirs have blue eyes and red hair. R. P. 100 b.

                                   (18)

  The gods have not revealed all things to men from the beginning, but
  by seeking they find in time what is better. R. P. 104 b.

                                   (23)

  One god, the greatest among gods and men, neither in form like unto
  mortals nor in thought.... R. P. 100.

                                   (24)

  He sees all over, thinks all over, and hears all over. R. P. 102.

                                   (25)

  But without toil he swayeth all things by the thought of his mind. R.
  P. 108 b.

                                   (26)

  And he abideth ever in the selfsame place, moving not at all; nor doth
  it befit him to go about now hither now thither. R. P. 110 a.

                                   (27)

  All things come from the earth, and in earth all things end. R. P. 103
  a.

                                   (28)

  This limit of the earth above is seen at our feet in contact with the
  air;[285] below it reaches down without a limit. R. P. 103.

                                   (29)

  All things are earth and water that come into being and grow. R. P.
  103.

                                   (30)

  The sea is the source of water and the source of wind; for neither in
  the clouds (would there be any blasts of wind blowing forth) from
  within without the mighty sea, nor rivers’ streams nor rain-water from
  the sky. The mighty sea is father of clouds and of winds and of
  rivers.[286] R. P. 103.

                                   (31)

  The sun swinging over[287] the earth and warming it....

                                   (32)

  She that they call Iris is a cloud likewise, purple, scarlet and green
  to behold. R. P. 103.

                                   (33)

  For we all are born of earth and water. R. P. _ib._

                                   (34)

  There never was nor will be a man who has certain knowledge about the
  gods and about all the things I speak of. Even if he should chance to
  say the complete truth, yet he himself knows not that it is so. But
  all may have their fancy. R. P. 104.

                                   (35)

  Let these be taken as fancies[288] something like the truth. R. P. 104
  a.

                                   (36)

  All of them[289] that are visible for mortals to behold.

                                   (37)

  And in some caves water drips....

                                   (38)

  If god had not made brown honey, men would think figs far sweeter than
  they do.

Footnote 284:

  I formerly, with Zeller, preferred Theodoret’s reading αἴσθησιν, but
  both Clement and Eusebios have ἐσθῆτα, and Theodoret is entirely
  dependent on them.

Footnote 285:

  Reading ἠέρι for καὶ ῥεῖ with Diels.

Footnote 286:

  This fragment has been recovered in its entirety from the Geneva
  scholia on Homer (see _Arch._ iv. p. 652). The words in brackets are
  added by Diels. See also Praechter, “Zu Xenophanes” (_Philol._ xviii.
  p. 308).

Footnote 287:

  The word is ὑπεριέμενος. This is quoted from the _Allegories_ as an
  explanation of the name Hyperion, and doubtless Xenophanes so meant
  it.

Footnote 288:

  Reading δεδοξάσθω with Wilamowitz.

Footnote 289:

  As Diels suggests, this probably refers to the stars, which Xenophanes
  held to be clouds.

[Sidenote: The heavenly bodies.]

58. The intention of one of these fragments (fr. 32) is perfectly clear.
“Iris too” is a cloud, and we may infer that the same thing had just
been said of the sun, moon, and stars; for the doxographers tell us that
these were all explained as “clouds ignited by motion.”[290] To the same
context clearly belongs the explanation of the St. Elmo’s fire which
Aetios has preserved. “The things like stars which appear on ships,” we
are told, “which some call the Dioskouroi, are little clouds made
luminous by motion.”[291] In the doxographers this explanation is
repeated with trifling variations under the head of moon, stars, comets,
lightning, shooting stars, and so forth, which gives the appearance of a
systematic cosmology.[292] But the system is due to the arrangement of
the work of Theophrastos, and not to Xenophanes; for it is obvious that
a very few hexameters added to those we possess would amply account for
the whole doxography.

Footnote 290:

  Cf. Diels _ad loc._ (_P. Ph. Fr._ p. 44), “ut Sol et cetera astra,
  quae cum in nebulas evanescerent, deorum simul opinio casura erat.”
  Cf. _Arch._ x. p. 533.

Footnote 291:

  Aet. ii. 18, 1 (_Dox._ p. 347), Ξενοφάνης τοὺς ἐπὶ τῶν πλοίων
  φαινομένους οἷον ἀστέρας, οὓς καὶ Διοσκούρους καλοῦσί τινες, νεφέλια
  εἶναι κατὰ τὴν ποιὰν κίνησιν παραλάμποντα.

What we hear of the sun presents some difficulties. We are told, on the
one hand, that it too was an ignited cloud; but this can hardly be
right. The evaporation of the sea from which clouds arise is distinctly
said to be due to the sun’s heat. Theophrastos stated that the sun,
according to Xenophanes, was a collection of sparks from the moist
exhalation; but even this leaves the exhalation itself unexplained.[293]
That, however, matters little, if the chief aim of Xenophanes was to
discredit the anthropomorphic gods, rather than to give a scientific
theory of the heavenly bodies. The important thing is that Helios too is
a temporary phenomenon. The sun does not go round the earth, as
Anaximander taught, but straight on, and the appearance of a circular
path is solely due to its increasing distance. So it is not the same sun
that rises next morning, but a new one altogether; while the old one
“tumbles into a hole” when it comes to certain uninhabited regions of
the earth. Besides that, there are many suns and moons, one of each for
every region of the earth.[294] It is obvious that things of that kind
cannot be gods.

Footnote 292:

  The passages from Aetios are collected in _P. Ph. Fr._ pp. 32 sqq.
  (_Vors._ p. 42).

Footnote 293:

  Aet. ii. 20, 3 (_Dox._ p. 348), Ξενοφάνης ἐκ νεφῶν πεπυρωμένων εἶναι
  τὸν ἥλιον. Θεόφραστος ἐν τοῖς Φυσικοῖς γέγραφεν ἐκ πυριδίων μὲν τῶν
  συναθροιζομένων ἐκ τῆς ὑγρᾶς ἀναθυμιάσεως, συναθροιζόντων δὲ τὸν
  ἥλιον.

Footnote 294:

  Aet. ii. 24, 9 (_Dox._ p. 355). πολλοὺς εἶναι ἡλίους καὶ σελήνας κατὰ
  κλίματα τῆς γῆς καὶ ἀποτομὰς καὶ ζώνας, κατὰ δέ τινα καιρὸν ἐμπίπτειν
  τὸν δίσκον εἴς τινα ἀποτομὴν τῆς γῆς οὐκ οἰκουμένην ὑφ’ ἡμῶν καὶ οὕτως
  ὥσπερ κενεμβατοῦντα ἔκλειψιν ὑποφαίνειν· ὁ δ’ αὐτὸς τὸν ἥλιον εἰς
  ἄπειρον μὲν προιέναι, δοκεῖν δὲ κυκλεῖσθαι διὰ τὴν ἀπόστασιν. It is
  clear that in this notice ἔκλειψινἕκλειψιν has been erroneously
  substituted for δύσιν, as it has also in Aet. ii. 24, 4 (_Dox._ p.
  354).

The vigorous expression “tumbling into a hole”[295] seems clearly to
come from the verses of Xenophanes himself, and there are others of a
similar kind, which we must suppose were quoted by Theophrastos. The
stars go out in the daytime, but glow again at night “like charcoal
embers.”[296] The sun is of some use in producing the world and the
living creatures in it, but the moon “does no work in the boat.”[297]
Such expressions can only be meant to make the heavenly bodies appear
ridiculous, and it will therefore be well to ask whether the other
supposed cosmological fragments can be interpreted on the same
principle.

Footnote 295:

  That this is the meaning of ὥσπερ κενεμβατοῦντα appears sufficiently
  from the passages referred to in Liddell and Scott.

Footnote 296:

  Aet. ii. 13, 14 (_Dox._ p. 343), ἀναζωπυρεῖν νύκτωρ καθάπερ τοὺς
  ἄνθρακας.

Footnote 297:

  Aet. ii. 30, 8 (_Dox._ p. 362), τὸν μὲν ἥλιον χρήσιμον εἶναι πρὸς τὴν
  τοῦ κόσμου καὶ τὴν τῶν ἐν αὐτῷ ζῴων γένεσίν τε καὶ διοίκησιν, τὴν δὲ
  σελήνην παρέλκειν, The verb παρέλκειν means “to cork.” Cf.
  Aristophanes, _Pax_, 1306.

[Sidenote: Earth and water.]

59. In fr. 29 Xenophanes says that “all things are earth and water,” and
Hippolytos has preserved the account given by Theophrastos of the
context in which this occurred. It was as follows:—

  Xenophanes said that a mixture of the earth with the sea is taking
  place, and that it is being gradually dissolved by the moisture. He
  says that he has the following proofs of this. Shells are found in
  midland districts and on hills, and he says that in the quarries at
  Syracuse has been found the imprint of a fish and of seaweed, at Paros
  the form of an anchovy in the depth of the stone, and at Malta flat
  impressions of all marine animals. These, he says, were produced when
  all things were formerly mud, and the outlines were dried in the mud.
  All human beings are destroyed when the earth has been carried down
  into the sea and turned to mud. This change takes place for all the
  worlds.—Hipp. _Ref._ i. 14 (R. P. 103 a).

This is, of course, the theory of Anaximander, and we may perhaps credit
him rather than Xenophanes with the observations of fossils.[298] Most
remarkable of all, however, is the statement that this change applies to
“all the worlds.” It really seems impossible to doubt that Theophrastos
attributed a belief in “innumerable worlds” to Xenophanes. As we have
seen already, Aetios includes him in his list of those who held this
doctrine, and Diogenes ascribes it to him also.[299] In this place,
Hippolytos seems to take it for granted. We shall also find, however,
that in another connexion he said the World or God was one. If our
interpretation of him is correct, there is no difficulty here. The main
point is that, so far from being a primeval goddess, and “a sure seat
for all things ever,” Gaia too is a passing appearance. That belongs to
the attack upon Hesiod, and, if in this connexion Xenophanes spoke, with
Anaximander, of “innumerable worlds,” while elsewhere he said that God
or the World was one, that is probably connected with a still better
attested contradiction which we have now to examine.

Footnote 298:

  There is an interesting note on these in Gomperz’s _Greek Thinkers_
  (Eng. trans. i. p. 551). I have translated his conjecture φυκῶν
  instead of the MS. φωκῶν, as this is said to involve a palæontological
  impossibility, and impressions of fucoids are found, not indeed in the
  quarries of Syracuse, but near them. It is said also that there are no
  fossils in Paros, so the anchovy must have been an imaginary one.

Footnote 299:

  Aet. ii. 1, 2 (_Dox._, p. 327); Diog. ix. 19 (R. P. 103 c). It is
  true, of course, that this passage of Diogenes comes from the
  biographical compendium (_Dox._ p. 168); but, for all that, it is a
  serious matter to deny the Theophrastean origin of a statement found
  in Aetios, Hippolytos, and Diogenes.

[Sidenote: Finite or infinite?]

60. Aristotle tried without success to discover from the poems of
Xenophanes whether he regarded the world as finite or infinite. “He made
no clear pronouncement on the subject,” he tells us.[300] Theophrastos,
on the other hand, decided that he regarded it as spherical and finite
because he said it was “equal every way.”[301] This, however, leads to
very serious difficulties. We have seen already that Xenophanes said the
sun went right on to infinity, and this agrees with his view of the
earth as an infinitely extended plain. Still more difficult to reconcile
with the idea of a spherical and finite world is the statement of fr. 28
that, while the earth has an upper limit which we see, it has no limit
below. This is attested by Aristotle, who speaks of the earth being
“infinitely rooted,” and adds that Empedokles criticised Xenophanes for
holding this view.[302] It further appears from the fragment of
Empedokles quoted by Aristotle that Xenophanes said the vast Air
extended infinitely upwards.[303] We are therefore bound to try to find
room for an infinite earth and an infinite air in a spherical and finite
world! That comes of trying to find science in satire. If, on the other
hand, we regard these statements from the same point of view as those
about the heavenly bodies, we shall at once see what they most probably
mean. The story of Ouranos and Gaia was always the chief scandal of the
_Theogony_, and the infinite air gets rid of Ouranos altogether. As to
the earth stretching infinitely downwards, that gets rid of Tartaros,
which Homer described as situated at the bottommost limit of earth and
sea, as far beneath Hades as heaven is above the earth.[304] This is
pure conjecture, of course; but, if it is even possible, we are entitled
to disbelieve that such startling contradictions occurred in a
cosmological poem.

Footnote 300:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 5. 986 b 23 (R. P. 101), οὐδὲν διεσαφήνισεν.

Footnote 301:

  This is given as an inference by Simpl. _Phys._ p. 23, 18 (R. P. 108
  b), διὰ τὸ πανταχόθεν ὅμοιον. It does not merely come from _M.X.G._
  (R. P. 108), πάντῃ δ’ ὅμοιον ὄντα σφαιροειδῆ εἶναι. Hippolytos has it
  too (_Ref._ i. 14; R. P. 102 a), so it goes back to Theophrastos.
  Timon of Phleious understood Xenophanes in the same way; for he makes
  him call the One ἴσον ἁπάντῃ (fr. 60, Diels = 40 Wachsm.; R. P. 102
  a).

Footnote 302:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 294 a 21 (R. P. 103 b).

Footnote 303:

  I take δαψιλός as an attribute and ἀπείρονα as predicate to both
  subjects.

Footnote 304:

  _Il._ viii. 13-16, 478-481, especially the words οὐδ’ εἴ κε τὰ νείατα
  πείραθ’ ἵκηαι | γαίης καὶ πόντοιο κ.τ.λ. _Iliad_ viii. must have
  seemed a particularly bad book to Xenophanes.

A more subtle explanation of the difficulty commended itself to the late
Peripatetic who wrote an account of the Eleatic school, part of which is
still extant in the Aristotelian corpus, and is generally known now as
the treatise on _Melissos, Xenophanes, and Gorgias_.[305] He said that
Xenophanes declared the world to be neither finite nor infinite, and he
composed a series of arguments in support of this thesis, to which he
added another like it, namely, that the world is neither in motion nor
at rest. This has introduced endless confusion into our sources.
Alexander used this treatise as well as the great work of Theophrastos,
and Simplicius supposed the quotations from it to be from Theophrastos
too. Having no copy of the poems he was completely baffled, and until
recently all accounts of Xenophanes were vitiated by the same confusion.
It may even be suggested that, but for this, we should have heard very
little of the “philosophy of Xenophanes,” a way of speaking which is in
the main a survival from the days before this scholastic exercise was
recognised as having no authority.

Footnote 305:

  In Bekker’s edition this treatise bears the title Περὶ Ξενοφάνους,
  περὶ Ζήνωνος, περὶ Γοργίου, but the best MS. gives as the titles of
  its three sections: (1) Περὶ Ζήνωνος, (2) Περὶ Ξενοφάνους, (3) Περὶ
  Γοργίου. The first section, however, plainly refers to Melissos, so
  the whole treatise is now entitled _De Melisso, Xenophane, Gorgia_
  (_M.X.G._). It has been edited by Apelt in the Teubner Series, and
  more recently by Diels (_Abh. der k. Preuss. Akad._ 1900), who has
  also given the section dealing with Xenophanes in _P. Ph. Fr._ pp.
  24-29 (_Vors._ pp. 36 sqq.). He has now withdrawn the view maintained
  in _Dox._ p. 108 that the work belongs to the third century B.C., and
  holds that it was _a Peripatetico eclectico (i.e. sceptica, platonica,
  stoica admiscente) circa Christi natalem conscriptum_. If that is so,
  there is no reason to doubt, as I formerly did, that the second
  section is really meant to deal with Xenophanes. The writer would have
  no first-hand knowledge of his poems, and the order in which the
  philosophers are discussed is that of the passage in the _Metaphysics_
  which suggested the whole thing. It is possible that a section on
  Parmenides preceded what we now have.

[Sidenote: God and the world.]

61. In the passage of the _Metaphysics_ just referred to, Aristotle
speaks of Xenophanes as “the first partisan of the One,”[306] and the
context shows that he means to suggest he was the first of the Eleatics.
We have seen already that the certain facts of his life make it very
unlikely that he settled at Elea and founded a school there, and it is
probable that, as usual in such cases, Aristotle is simply reproducing
certain statements of Plato. At any rate, Plato had spoken of the
Eleatics as the “partisans of the Whole,”[307] and he had also spoken of
the school as “starting with Xenophanes and even earlier.”[308] The last
words, however, show clearly enough what he meant. Just as he called the
Herakleiteans “followers of Homer and still more ancient teachers,”[309]
so he attached the Eleatic school to Xenophanes and still earlier
authorities. We have seen in other instances how these playful and
ironical remarks of Plato were taken seriously by his successors, and we
need not let this fresh instance of the same thing influence our general
view of Xenophanes unduly.

Footnote 306:

  _Met._ Α, 5. 986 b 21 (R. P. 101), πρῶτος τούτων ἑνίσας. The verb
  ἑνίζειν occurs nowhere else, but is plainly formed on the analogy of
  μηδίζειν, φιλιππίζειν, and the like. It is not likely that it means
  “to unify.” Aristotle could easily have said ἑνώσας if he had meant
  that.

Footnote 307:

  _Tht._ 181 a 6, τοῦ ὅλου στασιῶται. The noun στασιῶτης has no other
  meaning than “partisan.” There is no verb στασιοῦν “to make
  stationary,” and such a formation would be against all analogy. The
  derivation στασιώτας ... ἀπὸ τῆς στάσεως appears first in Sext.
  _Math._ x. 46, from which passage we may infer that Aristotle used the
  word, not that he gave the derivation.

Footnote 308:

  _Soph._ 242 d 5 (R. P. 101 b). If the passage implies that Xenophanes
  settled at Elea, it equally implies this of his predecessors. But Elea
  was not founded till Xenophanes was in the prime of life.

Footnote 309:

  _Tht._ 179 e 3, τῶν Ἡρακλειτείων ἤ, ὥσπερ σὺ λέγεις Ὁμηρείων καὶ ἔτι
  παλαιοτέρων. In this passage, Homer stands to the Herakleiteans in
  exactly the same relation as Xenophanes does to the Eleatics in the
  _Sophist._

Aristotle goes on to tell us that Xenophanes, “referring to the whole
world,[310] said the One was god.” This clearly alludes to frs. 23-26,
where all human attributes are denied of a god who is said to be one and
“the greatest among gods and men.” It may be added that these verses
gain very much in point if we may think of them as closely connected
with frs. 11-16, instead of referring the one set of verses to the
Satires and the other to a cosmological poem. It was probably in the
same context that Xenophanes called the world or god “equal every
way”[311] and denied that it breathed.[312] The statement that, there is
no mastership among the gods[313] also goes very well with fr. 26. A god
has no wants, nor is it fitting for one god to be the servant of others,
like Iris and Hermes in Homer.

Footnote 310:

  _Met._ 981 b 24. The words cannot mean “gazing up at the whole
  heavens,” or anything of that sort. They are taken as I take them by
  Bonitz (_im Hinblicke auf den ganzen Himmel_) and Zeller (_im Hinblick
  auf das Weltganze_). The word ἀποβλέπειν had become much too
  colourless to bear the other meaning, and οὐρανός, as we know, means
  what was later called κόσμος.

Footnote 311:

  See above, p. 137, _n._ 301.

Footnote 312:

  Diog. ix. 19 (R. P. 103 c), ὅλον δ’ ὁρᾶν καὶ ὅλον ἀκούειν, μὴ μέντοι
  ἀναπνεῖν. See above, p. 120, _n._ 252.

Footnote 313:

  [Plut.] _Strom._ fr. 4, ἀποφαίνεται δὲ καὶ περὶ θεῶν ὡς οὐδεμιᾶς
  ἡγεμονίας ἐν αὐτοῖς οὔσης· οὐ γὰρ ὅσιον δεσπόζεσθαί τινα τῶν θεῶν,
  ἐπιδεῖσθαί τε μηδενὸς αὐτῶν μηδένα μηδ’ ὅλως, ἀκούειν δὲ καὶ ὁρᾶν
  καθόλου καὶ μὴ κατὰ μέρος.

[Sidenote: Monotheism or polytheism.]

62. That this “god” is just the world, Aristotle tells us, and the use
of the word θεός is quite in accordance with Anaximander’s. Xenophanes
regarded it as sentient, though without any special organs of sense, and
it sways all things by the thought of its mind. He also calls it “one
god,” and, if that is monotheism, then Xenophanes was a monotheist,
though this is surely not how the word is generally understood. The fact
is that the expression “one god” wakens all sorts of associations in our
mind which did not exist at all for the Greeks of this time. His
contemporaries would have been more likely to call Xenophanes an atheist
than anything else. As Eduard Meyer excellently says: “In Greece the
question of one god or gods many hardly plays any part. Whether the
divine power is thought of as a unity or a plurality, is irrelevant in
comparison with the question whether it exists at all, and how its
nature and its relation to the world is to be understood.”[314]

Footnote 314:

  _Gesch. des Alterth._ ii. § 466.

On the other hand, it is wrong to say with Freudenthal that Xenophanes
was in any sense a polytheist.[315] That he should use the language of
polytheism in his elegies is only what we should expect, and the other
references to “gods” can be best explained as incidental to his attack
on the anthropomorphic gods of Homer and Hesiod. In one case,
Freudenthal has pressed a proverbial way of speaking too hard.[316]
Least of all can we admit that Xenophanes allowed the existence of
subordinate or departmental gods; for it was just the existence of such
that he was chiefly concerned to deny. At the same time, I cannot help
thinking that Freudenthal was more nearly right than Wilamowitz, who
says that Xenophanes “upheld the only real monotheism that has ever
existed upon earth.”[317] Diels, I fancy, comes nearer the mark, when he
calls it a “somewhat narrow pantheism.”[318] But all these views would
have surprised Xenophanes himself about equally. He was really Goethe’s
_Weltkind_, with prophets to right and left of him, and he would have
smiled if he had known that one day he was to be regarded as a
theologian.

Footnote 315:

  Freudenthal, _Die Theologie des Xenophanes_.

Footnote 316:

  Xenophanes calls his god “greatest among gods and men,” but this is
  simply a case of “polar expression,” to which parallels will be found
  in Wilamowitz’s note to the _Herakles_, v. 1106. Cf. especially the
  statement of Herakleitos (fr. 20) that “no one of gods or men” made
  the world.

Footnote 317:

  _Griechische Literatur_, p. 38.

Footnote 318:

  _Parmenides Lehrgedicht_, p. 9.




                              CHAPTER III
                         HERAKLEITOS OF EPHESOS


[Sidenote: Life of Herakleitos.]

63. Herakleitos of Ephesos, son of Blyson, is said to have “flourished”
in Ol. LXIX. (504/3-501/0 B.C.);[319] that is to say, just in the middle
of the reign of Dareios, with whom several traditions connected
him.[320] We shall see that Parmenides was assigned to the same
Olympiad, though for another reason (§ 84). It is more important,
however, for our purpose to notice that, while Herakleitos refers to
Pythagoras and Xenophanes by name and in the past tense (fr. 16), he is
in turn referred to by Parmenides (fr. 6). These references are
sufficient to mark his proper place in the history of philosophy. Zeller
holds, indeed, that he cannot have published his work till after 478
B.C., on the ground that the expulsion of his friend Hermodoros, alluded
to in fr. 114, could not have taken place before the downfall of Persian
rule. If that were so, it might be hard to see how Parmenides could have
known the views of Herakleitos; but there is surely no difficulty in
supposing that the Ephesians may have sent one of their foremost
citizens into banishment at a time when they were still paying tribute
to the Great King. The Persians never took their internal
self-government from the Ionian cities, and the spurious _Letters_ of
Herakleitos show the accepted view was that the expulsion of Hermodoros
took place during the reign of Dareios.[321]

Footnote 319:

  Diog. ix. 1 (R. P. 29), no doubt from Apollodoros through some
  intermediate authority. Jacoby, pp. 227 sqq.

Footnote 320:

  Bernays, _Die Heraklitischen Briefe_, pp. 13 sqq.

Footnote 321:

  Bernays, _op. cit._ pp. 20 sqq.

Sotion said that Herakleitos was a disciple of Xenophanes,[322] which is
not probable; for Xenophanes seems to have left Ionia for ever before
Herakleitos was born. More likely he was not a disciple of any one; but
it is clear, at the same time, that he was acquainted both with the
Milesian cosmology and with the poems of Xenophanes. He also knew
something of the theories taught by Pythagoras (fr. 17).

Footnote 322:

  Sotion _ap._ Diog. ix. 5 (R. P. 29 c).

Of the life of Herakleitos we really know nothing, except, perhaps, that
he belonged to the ancient royal house and resigned the nominal position
of Basileus in favour of his brother.[323] The origin of the other
statements bearing on it is quite transparent.[324]

Footnote 323:

  Diog. ix. 6 (R. P. 31).

Footnote 324:

  See Patin, _Heraklits Einheitslehre_, pp. 3 sqq. Herakleitos said (fr.
  68) that it was death to souls to become water; and we are told
  accordingly that he died of dropsy. He said (fr. 114) that the
  Ephesians should leave their city to their children, and (fr. 79) that
  Time was a child playing draughts. We are therefore told that he
  refused to take any part in public life, and went to play with the
  children in the temple of Artemis. He said (fr. 85) that corpses were
  more fit to be cast out than dung; and we are told that he covered
  himself with dung when attacked with dropsy. Lastly, he is said to
  have argued at great length with his doctors because of fr. 58. For
  these tales see Diog. ix. 3-5, and compare the stories about
  Empedokles discussed in Chap. V. § 100.

[Sidenote: His book.]

64. We do not know the title of the work of Herakleitos[325]—if, indeed,
it had one at all—and it is not very easy to form a clear idea of its
contents. We are told that it was divided into three discourses: one
dealing with the universe, one political, and one theological.[326] It
is not likely that this division is due to Herakleitos himself; all we
can infer from the statement is that the work fell naturally into these
three parts when the Stoic commentators took their editions of it in
hand.

Footnote 325:

  The variety of titles enumerated in Diog. ix. 12 (R. P. 30 b) seems to
  show that none was authentically known. That of “Muses” comes from
  Plato, _Soph._ 242 d 7. The others are mere “mottoes” (Schuster)
  prefixed by Stoic editors, and intended to emphasise their view that
  the subject of the work was ethical or political (Diog. ix. 15; R. P.
  30 c).

Footnote 326:

  Diog. ix. 5 (R. P. 30). Bywater has followed this hint in his
  arrangement of the fragments. The three sections are 1-90, 91-97,
  98-130.

The style of Herakleitos is proverbially obscure, and, at a later date,
got him the nickname of “the Dark.”[327] Now the fragments about the
Delphic god and the Sibyl (frs. 11 and 12) seem to show that he was
quite conscious of writing an oracular style, and we have to ask why he
did so. In the first place, it was the manner of the time.[328] The
stirring events of the age, and the influence of the religious revival,
gave something of a prophetic tone to all the leaders of thought. Pindar
and Aischylos have it too. They all feel that they are in some measure
inspired. It is also the age of great individualities, who are apt to be
solitary and disdainful. Herakleitos at least was so. If men cared to
dig for the gold they might find it (fr. 8); if not, they must be
content with straw (fr. 51). This seems to have been the view taken by
Theophrastos, who said that the headstrong temperament of Herakleitos
sometimes led him into incompleteness and inconsistencies of
statement.[329] But that is a very different thing from studied
obscurity and the _disciplina arcani_ sometimes attributed to him; if
Herakleitos does not go out of his way to make his meaning clear,
neither does he hide it (fr. 11).

Footnote 327:

  R. P. 30 a. The epithet ὁ σκοτεινός is of late date, but Timon of
  Phleious already called him αἰνικτής (fr. 43, Diels).

Footnote 328:

  See the valuable observations of Diels in the Introduction to his
  _Herakleitos von Ephesos_, pp. iv. sqq.

Footnote 329:

  Cf. Diog. ix. 6 (R. P. 31).

[Sidenote: The fragments.]

65. I give a version of the fragments according to the arrangement of
Mr. Bywater’s exemplary edition.[330]

  (1) It is wise to hearken, not to me, but to my Word, and to confess
  that all things are one.[331] R. P. 40.

  (2) Though this Word[332] is true evermore, yet men are as unable to
  understand it when they hear it for the first time as before they have
  heard it at all. For, though all things come to pass in accordance
  with this Word, men seem as if they had no experience of them, when
  they make trial of words and deeds such as I set forth, dividing each
  thing according to its nature and showing how it truly is. But other
  men know not what they are doing when awake, even as they forget what
  they do in sleep. R. P. 32.

  (3) Fools when they do hear are like the deaf: of them does the saying
  bear witness that they are absent when present. R. P. 31 a.

  (4) Eyes and ears are bad witnesses to men if they have souls that
  understand not their language. R. P. 42.

  (5) The many do not take heed of such things as those they meet with,
  nor do they mark them when they are taught, though they think they do.

  (6) Knowing not how to listen nor how to speak.

  (7) If you do not expect the unexpected, you will not find it; for it
  is hard to be sought out and difficult.[333]

  (8) Those who seek for gold dig up much earth and find a little. R. P.
  44 b.

  (10) Nature loves to hide. R. P. 34 f.

  (11) The lord whose is the oracle at Delphoi neither utters nor hides
  his meaning, but shows it by a sign. R. P. 30 a.

  (12) And the Sibyl, with raving lips uttering things mirthless,
  unbedizened, and unperfumed, reaches over a thousand years with her
  voice, thanks to the god in her. R. P. 30 a.

  (13) The things that can be seen, heard, and learned are what I prize
  the most. R. P. 42.

  (14) ... bringing untrustworthy witnesses in support of disputed
  points.

  (15) The eyes are more exact witnesses than the ears.[334] R. P. 42 c.

  (16) The learning of many things teacheth not understanding, else
  would it have taught Hesiod and Pythagoras, and again Xenophanes and
  Hekataios. R. P. 31.

  (17) Pythagoras, son of Mnesarchos, practised inquiry beyond all other
  men, and choosing out these writings, claimed for his own wisdom what
  was but a knowledge of many things and an art of mischief.[335] R. P.
  31 a.

  (18) Of all whose discourses I have heard, there is not one who
  attains to understanding that wisdom is apart from all. R. P. 32 b.

  (19) Wisdom is one thing. It is to know the thought by which all
  things are steered through all things. R. P. 40.

  (20) This world,[336] which is the same for all, no one of gods or men
  has made; but it was ever, is now, and ever shall be an ever-living
  Fire, with measures kindling, and measures going out. R. P. 35.[337]

  (21) The transformations of Fire are, first of all, sea; and half of
  the sea is earth, half whirlwind.[338] ... R. P. 35 b.

  (22) All things are an exchange for Fire, and Fire for all things,
  even as wares for gold and gold for wares. R. P. 35.

  (23) It becomes liquid sea, and is measured by the same tale as before
  it became earth.[339] R. P. 39.

  (24) Fire is want and surfeit. R. P. 36 a.

  (25) Fire lives the death of air,[340] and air lives the death of
  fire; water lives the death of earth, earth that of water. R. P. 37.

  (26) Fire in its advance will judge and convict[341] all things. R. P.
  36 a.

  (27) How can one hide from that which never sets?

  (28) It is the thunderbolt that steers the course of all things. R. P.
  35 b.

  (29) The sun will not overstep his measures; if he does, the Erinyes,
  the handmaids of Justice, will find him out. R. P. 39.

  (30) The limit of East and West is the Bear; and opposite the Bear is
  the boundary of bright Zeus.[342]

  (31) If there were no sun it would be night, for all the other stars
  could do.[343]

  (32) The sun is new every day.

  (33) See above, Chap. I. p. 41, _n._ 62.

  (34) ... the seasons that bring all things.

  (35) Hesiod is most men’s teacher. Men think he knew very many things,
  a man who did not know day or night! They are one.[344] R. P. 39 b.

  (36) God is day and night, winter and summer, war and peace, surfeit
  and hunger; but he takes various shapes, just as fire,[345] when it is
  mingled with spices, is named according to the savour of each. R. P.
  39 b.

  (37) If all things were turned to smoke, the nostrils would
  distinguish them.

  (38) Souls smell in Hades. R. P. 46 d.

  (39) Cold things become warm, and what is warm cools; what is wet
  dries, and the parched is moisted.

  (40) It scatters and it gathers; it advances and retires.

  (41, 42) You cannot step twice into the same rivers; for fresh waters
  are ever flowing in upon you. R. P. 33.

  (43) Homer was wrong in saying: “Would that strife might perish from
  among gods and men!” He did not see that he was praying for the
  destruction of the universe; for, if his prayer were heard, all things
  would pass away.[346]... R. P. 34 d.

  (44) War is the father of all and the king of all; and some he has
  made gods and some men, some bond and some free. R. P. 34.

  (45) Men do not know how what is at variance agrees with itself. It is
  an attunement of opposite tensions,[347] like that of the bow and the
  lyre. R. P. 34.

  (46) It is the opposite which is good for us.[348]

  (47) The hidden attunement is better than the open. R. P. 34.

  (48) Let us not conjecture at random about the greatest things.

  (49) Men that love wisdom must be acquainted with very many things
  indeed.

  (50) The straight and the crooked path of the fuller’s comb is one and
  the same.

  (51) Asses would rather have straw than gold. R. P. 31 a.

  (51_a_) Oxen are happy when they find bitter vetches to eat.[349] R.
  P. 48 b.

  (52) The sea is the purest and the impurest water. Fish can drink it,
  and it is good for them; to men it is undrinkable and destructive. R.
  P. 47 c.

  (53) Swine wash in the mire, and barnyard fowls in dust.

  (54) ... to delight in the mire.

  (55) Every beast is driven to pasture with blows.[350]

  (56) Same as 45.

  (57) Good and ill are one. R. P. 47 c.

  (58) Physicians who cut, burn, stab, and rack the sick, demand a fee
  for it which they do not deserve to get. R. P. 47 c.[351]

  (59) Couples are things whole and things not whole, what is drawn
  together and what is drawn asunder, the harmonious and the discordant.
  The one is made up of all things, and all things issue from the
  one.[352]

  (60) Men would not have known the name of justice if these things were
  not.[353]

  (61) To God all things are fair and good and right, but men hold some
  things wrong and some right. R. P. 45.

  (62) We must know that war is common to all and strife is justice, and
  that all things come into being and pass away (?) through strife.

  (64) All the things we see when awake are death, even as all we see in
  slumber are sleep. R. P. 42 c.[354]

  (65) The wise is one only. It is unwilling and willing to be called by
  the name of Zeus. R. P. 40.

  (66) The bow (βιός) is called life (βίος), but its work is death. R.
  P. 49 a.

  (67) Mortals are immortals and immortals are mortals, the one living
  the others’ death and dying the others’ life. R. P. 46.

  (68) For it is death to souls to become water, and death to water to
  become earth. But water comes from earth; and from water, soul. R. P.
  38.

  (69) The way up and the way down is one and the same. R. P. 36 d.

  (70) In the circumference of a circle the beginning and end are
  common.

  (71) You will not find the boundaries of soul by travelling in any
  direction, so deep is the measure of it.[355] R. P. 41 d.

  (72) It is pleasure to souls to become moist. R. P. 46 c.

  (73) A man, when he gets drunk, is led by a beardless lad, tripping,
  knowing not where he steps, having his soul moist. R. P. 42.

  (74-76) The dry soul is the wisest and best.[356] R. P. 42.

  (77) Man is kindled and put out like a light in the night-time.

  (78) And it is the same thing in us that is quick and dead, awake and
  asleep, young and old; the former are shifted[357] and become the
  latter, and the latter in turn are shifted and become the former. R.
  P. 47.

  (79) Time is a child playing draughts, the kingly power is a child’s.
  R. P. 40 a.

  (80) I have sought for myself. R. P. 48.

  (81) We step and do not step into the same rivers; we are and are not.
  R. P. 33 a.

  (82) It is a weariness to labour for the same masters and be ruled by
  them.

  (83) It rests by changing.

  (84) Even the posset separates if it is not stirred.

  (85) Corpses are more fit to be cast out than dung.

  (86) When they are born, they wish to live and to meet with their
  dooms—or rather to rest—and they leave children behind them to meet
  with their dooms in turn.

  (87-89) A man may be a grandfather in thirty years.

  (90) Those who are asleep are fellow-workers....

  (91_a_) Thought is common to all.

  (91_b_) Those who speak with understanding must hold fast to what is
  common to all as a city holds fast to its law, and even more strongly.
  For all human laws are fed by the one divine law. It prevails as much
  as it will, and suffices for all things with something to spare. R. P.
  43.

  (92) So we must follow the common,[358] yet the many live as if they
  had a wisdom of their own. R. P. 44.

  (93) They are estranged from that with which they have most constant
  intercourse.[359] R. P. 32 b.

  (94) It is not meet to act and speak like men asleep.

  (95) The waking have one common world, but the sleeping turn aside
  each into a world of his own.

  (96) The way of man has no wisdom, but that of God has. R. P. 45.

  (97) Man is called a baby by God, even as a child by a man. R. P. 45.

  (98, 99) The wisest man is an ape compared to God, just as the most
  beautiful ape is ugly compared to man.

  (100) The people must fight for its law as for its walls. R. P. 43 b.

  (101) Greater deaths win greater portions. R. P. 49 a.

  (102) Gods and men honour those who are slain in battle. R. P. 49 a.

  (103) Wantonness needs putting out, even more than a house on fire. R.
  P. 49 a.

  (104) It is not good for men to get all they wish to get. It is
  sickness that makes health pleasant; evil,[360] good; hunger, plenty;
  weariness, rest. R. P. 48 b.

  (105-107) It is hard to fight with one’s heart’s desire.[361] Whatever
  it wishes to get, it purchases at the cost of soul. R. P. 49 a.

  (108, 109) It is best to hide folly; but it is hard in times of
  relaxation, over our cups.

  (110) And it is law, too, to obey the counsel of one. R. P. 49 a.

  (111) For what thought or wisdom have they? They follow the poets and
  take the crowd as their teacher, knowing not that there are many bad
  and few good. For even the best of them choose one thing above all
  others, immortal glory among mortals, while most of them are glutted
  like beasts.[362] R. P. 31 a.

  (112) In Priene lived Bias, son of Teutamas, who is of more account
  than the rest. (He said, “Most men are bad.”)

  (113) One is ten thousand to me, if he be the best. R. P. 31 a.

  (114) The Ephesians would do well to hang themselves, every grown man
  of them, and leave the city to beardless lads; for they have cast out
  Hermodoros, the best man among them, saying, “We will have none who is
  best among us; if there be any such, let him be so elsewhere and among
  others.” R. P. 29 b.

  (115) Dogs bark at every one they do not know. R. P. 31 a.

  (116) ... (The wise man) is not known because of men’s want of belief.

  (117) The fool is fluttered at every word. R. P. 44 b.

  (118) The most esteemed of them knows but fancies;[363] yet of a truth
  justice shall overtake the artificers of lies and the false witnesses.

  (119) Homer should be turned out of the lists and whipped, and
  Archilochos likewise. R. P. 31.

  (120) One day is like any other.

  (121) Man’s character is his fate.[364]

  (122) There awaits men when they die such things as they look not for
  nor dream of. R. P. 46 d.

  (123) ... [365]that they rise up and become the wakeful guardians of
  the quick and dead. R. P. 46 d.

  (124) Night-walkers, Magians, priests of Bakchos and priestesses of
  the wine-vat, mystery-mongers....

  (125) The mysteries practised among men are unholy mysteries. R. P.
  48.

  (126) And they pray to these images, as if one were to talk with a
  man’s house, knowing not what gods or heroes are. R. P. 49 a.

  (127) For if it were not to Dionysos that they made a procession and
  sang the shameful phallic hymn, they would be acting most shamelessly.
  But Hades is the same as Dionysos in whose honour they go mad and keep
  the feast of the wine-vat. R. P. 49.

  (129, 130) They vainly purify themselves by defiling themselves with
  blood, just as if one who had stepped into the mud were to wash his
  feet in mud. Any man who marked him doing thus, would deem him mad. R.
  P. 49 a.

Footnote 330:

  In his edition, Diels has given up all attempt to arrange the
  fragments according to subject, and this makes his text unsuitable for
  our purpose. I think, too, that he overestimates the difficulty of an
  approximate arrangement, and makes too much of the view that the style
  of Herakleitos was “aphoristic.” That it was so, is an important and
  valuable remark; but it does not follow that Herakleitos wrote like
  Nietzsche. For a Greek, however prophetic in his tone, there must
  always be a distinction between an aphoristic and an incoherent style.
  See the excellent remarks of Lortzing in _Berl. Phil. Wochenschr._
  1896, pp. 1 sqq.

Footnote 331:

  Both Bywater and Diels accept Bergk’s λόγου for δόγματος and Miller’s
  εἶναι for εἰδέναι. Cf. Philo, _leg. all._ iii. c, quoted in Bywater’s
  note.

Footnote 332:

  The λόγος is simply the discourse of Herakleitos himself; though, as
  he is a prophet, we may call it “the Word.” It can neither mean a
  discourse addressed to Herakleitos nor yet “reason.” (Cf. Zeller, p.
  630, n. 1; Eng. trans. ii. p. 7, n. 2.) A difficulty has been raised
  about the words ἐόντας αἰεί. How could Herakleitos say that his
  discourse had always existed? The answer is that in Ionic ἐών means
  “true” when coupled with words like λόγος. Cf. Herod. i. 30, τῷ ἐόντι
  χρησάμενος λέγει; and even Aristoph. _Frogs_, 1052, οὐκ ὄντα λόγον. It
  is only by taking the words in this way that we can understand
  Aristotle’s hesitation as to the proper punctuation of the fragment
  (_Rhet._ Γ 5. 1407 b 15; R. P. 30 a). The Stoic interpretation given
  by Marcus Aurelius, iv. 46 (R. P. 32 b), must be rejected altogether.
  The word λόγος was never used like that till post-Aristotelian times.

Footnote 333:

  I have departed from the punctuation of Bywater here, and supplied a
  fresh object to the verb as suggested by Gomperz (_Arch._ i. 100).

Footnote 334:

  Cf. Herod, i. 8. The application is, no doubt, the same as that of the
  last two fragments. Personal inquiry is better than tradition.

Footnote 335:

  See Chap. II. p. 107, _n._ 224. The best attested reading is
  ἐποιήσατο, not ἐποίησεν, and ἐποιήσατο ἑαυτοῦ means “claimed as his
  own.” The words ἐκλεξάμενος ταύτας τὰς συγγραφάς have been doubted
  since the time of Schleiermacher, and Diels has now come to regard the
  whole fragment as spurious. This is because it was used to prove that
  Pythagoras wrote books (cf. Diels, _Arch._ iii. p. 451). As Mr.
  Bywater has pointed out, however, the fragment itself makes no such
  statement; it only says that he read books, which we may presume he
  did. I would further suggest that the old-fashioned συγγραφάς is
  rather too good for a forger, and that the omission of the very thing
  to be proved is remarkable. The last suggestion of a book by
  Pythagoras disappears with the reading ἐποιήσατο for ἐποίησεν. Of
  course a late writer who read of Pythagoras making extracts from books
  would assume that he put them into a book of his own, just as people
  did in his own days. For the rest, I understand ἱστορίη of science,
  which is contrasted with the κακοτεχνίη which Pythagoras derived from
  the συγγραφαί of men like Pherekydes of Syros.

Footnote 336:

  The word κόσμος must mean “world” here, not merely “order;” for only
  the world could be identified with fire. This use of the word is
  Pythagorean, and there is no reason to doubt that Herakleitos may have
  known it.

Footnote 337:

  It is important to notice that μέτρα is internal accusative with
  ἁπτόμενον, “with its measures kindling and its measures going out.”

Footnote 338:

  On the word πρηστήρ, see below, p. 165, _n._ 380.

Footnote 339:

  The subject of fr. 23 is γῆ, as we see from Diog. ix. 9 (R. P. 36),
  πάλιν τε αὖ τὴν γὴν χεῖσθαι; and Aet. i. 3, 11 (_Dox._ p. 284 a 1; b
  5), ἔπειτα ἀναχαλωμένην τὴν γῆν ὑπὸ τοῦ τυρὸς χύσει (Dübner: φύσει,
  libri) ὕδωρ ἀποτελεῖσθαι. Herakleitos might quite well say γῆ θάλασσα
  διαχέεται, and the context in Clement (_Strom._ v. p. 712) seems to
  imply this. The phrase μετρέεται εἰς τὸν αὐτὸν λόγον can only mean
  that the proportion of the measures remains constant. So practically
  Zeller (p. 690, n. 1), _zu derselben Grösse_.

Footnote 340:

  With Diels I adopt the transposition (proposed by Tocco) of ἀέρος and
  γῆς.

Footnote 341:

  I understand ἐπελθόν of the πυρὸς ἔφοδος, for which see below, p. 168.
  Diels has pointed out that καταλαμβάνειν is the old word for “to
  convict.” It is, literally, “to overtake,” just as αἱρεῖν is “to
  catch.”

Footnote 342:

  In this fragment it is clear that οὖρος = τέρματα, and therefore means
  “boundary,” not “hill.” As αἴθριος Ζεύς means the bright blue sky, I
  do not think its οὖρος can be the South Pole, as Diels says. It is
  more likely the horizon. I am inclined to take the fragment as a
  protest against the Pythagorean theory of a southern hemisphere.

Footnote 343:

  We learn from Diog. ix. 10 (quoted below, p. 164) that Herakleitos
  explained why the sun was warmer and brighter than the moon, and this
  is doubtless a fragment of that passage. I now think the words ἕνεκα
  τῶν ἄλλων ἄστρων are from Herakleitos. So Diels.

Footnote 344:

  Hesiod said Day was the child of Night (_Theog._ 124).

Footnote 345:

  Reading ὅκωσπερ πῦρ for ὅκωσπερ with Diels.

Footnote 346:

  _Il._ xviii. 107. I add the words οἰχήσεσθαι γὰρ πάντα from Simpl. _in
  Cat._ (88 b 30 schol. Br.). They seem to me at least to represent
  something that was in the original.

Footnote 347:

  I cannot think it likely that Herakleitos said both παλίντονος and
  παλίντροπος ἁρμονίη, and I prefer Plutarch’s παλίντονος (R. P. 34 b)
  to the παλίντροπος of Hippolytos. Diels thinks that the polemic of
  Parmenides decides the question in favour of παλίντροπος; but see
  below, p. 184, _n._ 415, and Chap. IV. p. 198, _n._ 438.

Footnote 348:

  This, I now think, is the medical rule αἱ ἰατρεῖαι διὰ τῶν ἐναντίων,
  _e.g._ βοηθεῖν τῷ θερμῷ ἐπὶ τὸ ψυχρόν (Stewart on Arist. _Eth._ 1104 b
  16).

Footnote 349:

  Fr. 51_a_ was recovered by Bywater from Albertus Magnus. See _Journ.
  Phil._ ix. p. 230.

Footnote 350:

  On fr. 55 see Diels in _Berl. Sitzb._ 1901, p. 188.

Footnote 351:

  I now read ἐπαιτέονται with Bernays and Diels.

Footnote 352:

  On fr. 59 see Diels in _Berl. Sitzb._ 1901, p. 188. The reading
  συνάψιες seems to be well attested and gives an excellent sense. It is
  not, however, correct to say that the optative could not be used in an
  imperative sense.

Footnote 353:

  By “these things,” he probably meant all kinds of injustice.

Footnote 354:

  Diels supposes that fr. 64 went on ὁκόσα δὲ τεθνηκότες ζωή. “Life,
  Sleep, Death is the threefold ladder in psychology, as in physics
  Fire, Water, Earth.”

Footnote 355:

  I think now with Diels that the words οὕτω βαθὺν λόγον ἔχει are
  probably genuine. They present no difficulty if we remember that λόγος
  means “measurement,” as in fr. 23.

Footnote 356:

  This fragment is interesting because of the great antiquity of the
  corruptions which it has suffered. According to Stephanus, who is
  followed by Bywater and Diels, we should read: Αὔη ψυχὴ σοφωτάτη καὶ
  ἀρίστη, ξηρή (or rather ξηρά—the Ionic form would only appear when the
  word got into the text) being a mere gloss upon the somewhat unusual
  αὔη. When once ξηρή got into the text, αὔη became αὐγή, and we get the
  sentence: “the dry light is the wisest soul,” whence the _siccum
  lumen_ of Bacon. Now this reading is certainly as old as Plutarch,
  who, in his Life of Romulus (c. 28), takes αὐγή to mean lightning, as
  it sometimes does, and supposes the idea to be that the wise soul
  bursts through the prison of the body like dry lightning (whatever
  that may be) through a cloud. I do not think that Clement’s making the
  same mistake proves anything at all (Zeller, p. 705, n. 3; Eng. trans.
  i. p. 80, n. 2), except that he had read his Plutarch. Lastly, it is
  worth noticing that, though Plutarch must have written αὐγή, the MSS.
  vary between αὕτη and αὐτή. The next stage is the corruption of the
  corrupt αὐγή into οὗ γῆ. This yields the sentiment that “where the
  earth is dry, the soul is wisest,” and is as old as Philo (see Mr.
  Bywater’s notes).

Footnote 357:

  I understand μεταπεσόντα here as meaning “moved” from one γραμμή or
  division of the draught-board to another.

Footnote 358:

  Sext. _Math._ vii. 133, διὸ δεῖ ἕπεσθαι τῷ ξυνῷ. It seems to me that
  these words must belong to Herakleitos, though Bywater omits them. On
  the other hand, the words τοῦ λόγου δὲ ὄντος ξυνοῦ (so, not δ’ ἐόντος,
  the best MSS.) seem clearly to belong to the Stoic interpreter whom
  Sextus is following, and who was anxious to connect this fragment with
  fr. 2 (ὀλίγα προσδιελθὼν ἐπιφέρει) in order to get the doctrine of the
  κοινὸς λόγος. The whole context in Sextus should be read.

Footnote 359:

  The words λόγῳ τῳ τὰ ὅλα διοικοῦντι, which Diels prints as part of
  this fragment, seem to me to belong to Marcus Aurelius and not to
  Herakleitos.

Footnote 360:

  Adopting Heitz’s κακὸν for καὶ with Diels.

Footnote 361:

  The word θυμός has its Homeric sense. The gratification of desire
  implies the exchange of dry soul-fire (fr. 74) for moisture (fr. 72).
  Aristotle understood θυμός here as anger (_Eth. Nic._ Β 2, 1105 a 8).

Footnote 362:

  This seems to be a clear reference to the “three lives.” See Chap. II.
  § 45, p. 108.

Footnote 363:

  Reading δοκέοντα with Schleiermacher (or δοκέοντ’ ὧν with Diels). I
  have omitted φυλάσσειν, as I do not know what it means, and none of
  the conjectures commends itself.

Footnote 364:

  On the meaning of δαίμων here, see my edition of Aristotle’s _Ethics_,
  pp. 1 sq. As Professor Gildersleeve puts it, the δαίμων is the
  individual form of τύχη, as κήρ is of θάνατος.

Footnote 365:

  I have not ventured to include the words ἔνθα δ’ ἐόντι at the
  beginning, as the text seems to me too uncertain. See, however,
  Diels’s interesting note.

[Sidenote: The doxographical tradition.]

66. It will be seen that some of these fragments are far from clear, and
there are probably not a few of which the meaning will never be
recovered. We naturally turn, then, to the doxographers for a clue; but,
as ill-luck will have it, they are far less instructive with regard to
Herakleitos than we have found them in other cases. We have, in fact,
two great difficulties to contend with. The first is the unusual
weakness of the doxographical tradition itself. Hippolytos, upon whom we
can generally rely for a fairly accurate account of what Theophrastos
really said, derived the material for his first four chapters, which
treat of Thales, Pythagoras, Herakleitos, and Empedokles, not from the
excellent epitome which he afterwards used, but from a biographical
compendium,[366] which consisted for the most part of apocryphal
anecdotes and apophthegms. It was based, further, on some writer of
_Successions_ who regarded Herakleitos and Empedokles as Pythagoreans.
They are therefore placed side by side, and their doctrines are
hopelessly mixed up together. The link between Herakleitos and the
Pythagoreans was Hippasos of Metapontion, in whose system, as we know,
fire played an important part. Theophrastos, following Aristotle, had
spoken of the two in the same sentence, and this was enough to put the
writers of _Successions_ off the track.[367] We are forced, then, to
look to the more detailed of the two accounts of the opinions of
Herakleitos given in Diogenes,[368] which goes back to the _Vetusta
Placita_, and is, fortunately, pretty full and accurate. All our other
sources are more or less tainted.

Footnote 366:

  On the source used by Hippolytos in the first four chapters of _Ref._
  i. see Diels, _Dox._ p. 145. We must carefully distinguish _Ref._ i.
  and _Ref._ ix. as sources of information about Herakleitos. The latter
  book is an attempt to show that the Monarchian heresy of Noetos was
  derived from Herakleitos instead of from the Gospel, and is a rich
  mine of Herakleitean fragments.

Footnote 367:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 3. 984 a 7 (R. P. 56 c): Theophr. _ap._ Simpl.
  _Phys._ 23, 33 (R. P. 36 c).

Footnote 368:

  For these double accounts see _Dox._ pp. 163 sqq. and Appendix, § 15.

The second difficulty which we have to face is even more serious. Most
of the commentators on Herakleitos mentioned in Diogenes were
Stoics,[369] and it is certain that their paraphrases were sometimes
taken for the original. Now, the Stoics held the Ephesian in peculiar
veneration, and sought to interpret him as far as possible in accordance
with their own system. Further, they were fond of “accommodating”[370]
the views of earlier thinkers to their own, and this has had serious
consequences. In particular, the Stoic theories of the λόγος and the
ἐκπύρωσις are constantly ascribed to Herakleitos by our authorities, and
the very fragments are adulterated with scraps of Stoic terminology.

Footnote 369:

  Diog. ix. 15 (R. P. 30 c). Schleiermacher rightly insisted upon this.

Footnote 370:

  The word συνοικειοῦν is used of the Stoic method of interpretation by
  Philodemos (cf. _Dox._ 547 b, n.), and Cicero (_N.D._ i. 41) renders
  it by _accommodare_. Chrysippos in particular gave a great impulse to
  this sort of thing, as we may best learn from Galen, _de Plac.
  Hippocr. et Plat._ Book iii. Good examples are Aet. i. 13, 2; 28, 1;
  iv. 3, 12,—where distinctively Stoic doctrines are ascribed to
  Herakleitos. What the Stoics were capable of, we see from Kleanthes,
  fr. 55, Pearson. He proposed to read Ζεῦ ἀναδωδωναῖε in _Il._ xvi.
  233, ὡς τὸν ἐκ τῆς γῆς ἀναθυμιώμενον ἀέρα διὰ τὴν ἀνάδοσιν
  Ἀναδωδωναῖον ὄντα.

[Sidenote: The discovery of Herakleitos.]

67. Herakleitos looks down not only on the mass of men, but on all
previous inquirers into nature. This must mean that he believed himself
to have attained insight into some truth which had not hitherto been
recognised, though it was, as it were, staring men in the face (fr. 93).
Clearly, then, if we wish to get at the central thing in his teaching,
we must try to find out what he was thinking of when he launched into
those denunciations of human dulness and ignorance.[371] The answer
seems to be given in two fragments, 18 and 45. From them we gather that
the truth hitherto ignored is that the many apparently independent and
conflicting things we know are really one, and that, on the other hand,
this one is also many. The “strife of opposites” is really an
“attunement” (ἁρμονία). From this it follows that wisdom is not a
knowledge of many things, but the perception of the underlying unity of
the warring opposites. That this really was the fundamental thought of
Herakleitos is stated by Philo. He says: “For that which is made up of
both the opposites is one; and, when the one is divided, the opposites
are disclosed. Is not this just what the Greeks say their great and much
belauded Herakleitos put in the forefront of his philosophy as summing
it all up, and boasted of as a new discovery?”[372] We shall take the
elements of this theory one by one, and see how they are to be
understood.

Footnote 371:

  See Patin, _Heraklits Einheitslehre_ (1886). To Patin undoubtedly
  belongs the credit of showing clearly that the unity of opposites was
  the central doctrine of Herakleitos. It is not always easy, however,
  to follow him when he comes to details.

Footnote 372:

  Philo, _Rer. Div. Her._ 43 (R. P. 34 c).

[Sidenote: The One and the Many.]

68. Anaximander had taught already that the opposites were separated out
from the Boundless, but passed away into it once more, so paying the
penalty for their unjust encroachments on one another. It is here
implied that there is something wrong in the war of opposites, and that
the existence of the Many is a breach in the unity of the One. The truth
which Herakleitos proclaimed was that there is no One without the Many,
and no Many without the One. The world is at once one and many, and it
is just the “opposite tension” of the Many that constitutes the unity of
the One.

The credit of having been the first to see this is expressly assigned to
Herakleitos by Plato. In the _Sophist_ (242 d), the Eleatic stranger,
after explaining how the Eleatics maintained that what we call many is
really one, proceeds:—

  But certain Ionian and (at a later date) certain Sicilian Muses
  remarked that it was safest to unite these two things, and to say that
  reality is both many and one, and is kept together by Hate and Love.
  “For,” say the more severe Muses, “in its division it is always being
  brought together” (cf. fr. 59); while the softer Muses relaxed the
  requirement that this should always be so, and said that the All was
  alternately one and at peace through the power of Aphrodite, and many
  and at war with itself because of something they called Strife.

In this passage the Ionian Muses stand, of course, for Herakleitos, and
the Sicilian for Empedokles. We remark also that the differentiation of
the one into many, and the integration of the many into one, are both
eternal and simultaneous, and that this is the ground upon which the
system of Herakleitos is contrasted with that of Empedokles. We shall
come back to that point again. Meanwhile we confine ourselves to this,
that, according to Plato, Herakleitos taught that reality was at once
many and one.

We must be careful, however, not to imagine that what Herakleitos thus
discovered was a logical principle. This was the mistake of Lassalle’s
book.[373] The identity in and through difference which he proclaimed
was purely physical; logic did not yet exist, and as the principle of
identity had not been formulated, it would have been impossible to
protest against an abstract application of it. The identity which he
explains as consisting in difference is simply that of the primary
substance in all its manifestations. This identity had been realised
already by the Milesians, but they had found a difficulty in the
difference. Anaximander had treated the strife of opposites as an
“injustice,” and what Herakleitos set himself to show was that, on the
contrary, it was the highest justice (fr. 62).

Footnote 373:

  The source of his error was Hegel’s remarkable statement that there
  was no proposition of Herakleitos that he had not taken up into his
  own logic (_Gesch. d. Phil._ i. 328). The example which he cites is
  the statement that Being does not exist any more than not-Being, for
  which he refers to Arist. _Met._ Α, 4. This, however, is not there
  ascribed to Herakleitos at all, but to Leukippos or Demokritos, with
  whom it meant that space was as real as matter (§ 175). Aristotle
  does, indeed, tell us in the _Metaphysics_ that “some” think
  Herakleitos says that the same thing can be and not be; but he adds
  that it does not follow that a man thinks what he says (_Met._ Γ 3.
  1005 b 24). I take this to mean that, though Herakleitos did make this
  assertion in words, he did not mean by it what the same assertion
  would naturally have meant at a later date. Herakleitos was speaking
  only of nature; the logical meaning of the words never occurred to
  him. This is confirmed by Κ, 5. 1062 a 31, where we are told that by
  being questioned in a certain manner Herakleitos could be made to
  admit the principle of contradiction; as it was, he did not understand
  what he said. In other words, he was unconscious of its logical
  bearing.

  Aristotle was aware, then, that the theories of Herakleitos were not
  to be understood in a logical sense. On the other hand, this does not
  prevent him from saying that according to the view of Herakleitos,
  everything would be true (_Met._ Δ, 7. 1012 a 24). If we remember his
  constant attitude to earlier thinkers, this will not lead us to
  suspect either his good faith or his intelligence. (See Appendix, §
  2.)

[Sidenote: Fire.]

69. All this made it necessary for him to seek out a new primary
substance. He wanted not merely something out of which the diversified
world we know might conceivably be made, or from which opposites could
be “separated out,” but something which of its own nature would pass
into everything else, while everything else would pass in turn into it.
This he found in Fire, and it is easy to see why, if we consider the
phenomenon of combustion, even as it appears to the plain man. The
quantity of fire in a flame burning steadily appears to remain the same,
the flame seems to be what we call a “thing.” And yet the substance of
it is continually changing. It is always passing away in smoke, and its
place is always being taken by fresh matter from the fuel that feeds it.
This is just what we want. If we regard the world as an “ever-living
fire” (fr. 20), we can understand how it is always becoming all things,
while all things are always returning to it.[374]

Footnote 374:

  That the Fire of Herakleitos was something on the same level as the
  “Air” of Anaximenes and not a “symbol,” is clearly implied in such
  passages as Arist. _Met._ Α, 3. 984 a 5. In support of the view that
  something different from common fire is meant, Plato, _Crat._ 413 b,
  is sometimes quoted; but a consideration of the context shows that the
  passage will not bear this interpretation. Plato is discussing the
  derivation of δίκαιον from δια-ιόν, and certainly δίκη was a prominent
  Herakleitean conception, and a good deal that is here said may be the
  authentic doctrine of the school. Sokrates goes on to complain that
  when he asks what this is which “goes through” everything, he gets
  very inconsistent answers. One says it is the sun. Another asks if
  there is no justice after sunset, and says it is simply fire. A third
  says it is not fire itself, but the heat which is in fire. A fourth
  identifies it with Mind. Now all we are entitled to infer from this is
  that different accounts were given in the Herakleitean school. These
  were a little less crude than the original doctrine of the master, but
  for all that not one of them implies anything immaterial or
  symbolical. The view that it was not fire itself, but Heat, which
  “passed through” all things, is related to the theory of Herakleitos
  as Hippo’s Moisture is related to the Water of Thales. It is quite
  likely, too, that some Herakleiteans attempted to fuse the system of
  Anaxagoras with their own, just as Diogenes of Apollonia tried to fuse
  it with that of Anaximenes. We shall see, indeed, that we still have a
  work in which this attempt is made (p. 167, _n._ 383).

[Sidenote: Flux.]

70. This necessarily brings with it a certain way of looking at the
change and movement of the world. Fire burns continuously and without
interruption. It is therefore always consuming fuel and always
liberating smoke. Everything is either mounting upwards to serve as
fuel, or sinking downwards after having nourished the flame. It follows
that the whole of reality is like an ever-flowing stream, and that
nothing is ever at rest for a moment. The substance of the things we see
is in constant change. Even as we look at them, some of the matter of
which they are composed has already passed into something else, while
fresh matter has come into them from another source. This theory is
usually summed up, appropriately enough, in the phrase “All things are
flowing” (πάντα ῥεῖ), though, as it happens, it cannot be proved that
this is a quotation from Herakleitos. Plato, however, expresses the idea
quite clearly. “Nothing ever is, everything is becoming”; “All things
are in motion like streams”; “All things are passing, and nothing
abides”; “Herakleitos says somewhere that all things pass and naught
abides; and, comparing things to the current of a river, he says that
you cannot step twice into the same stream” (cf. fr. 41)—these are the
terms in which he describes the system. And Aristotle says the same
thing, “All things are in motion,” “nothing steadfastly is.”[375]
Herakleitos held, in fact, that any given thing, however stable in
appearance, was merely a section in the stream, and that the matter
composing it was never the same in any two consecutive moments of time.
We shall see presently how he conceived this process to operate;
meanwhile we remark that the idea was not altogether novel, and that it
is hardly the central point in the system of Herakleitos. The Milesians
held a similar view. The flux of Herakleitos was at most more unceasing
and universal.

Footnote 375:

  Plato, _Tht._ 152 e 1; _Crat._ 401 d 5, 402 a 8; Arist. _Top._ Α, 11.
  104 b 22; _de Caelo_, Γ, 1. 298 b 30; _Phys._ Θ, 3. 253 b 2.

[Sidenote: The Upward and Downward path.]

71. Herakleitos appears to have worked out the details of the perpetual
flux with reference to the theories of Anaximenes.[376] It is unlikely,
however, that he explained the transformations of matter by means of
rarefaction and condensation.[377] Theophrastos, it appears, suggested
that he did; but he allowed it was by no means clear. The passage from
Diogenes which we are about to quote has faithfully preserved this
touch.[378] In the fragments, at any rate, we find nothing about
rarefaction and condensation. The expression used is “exchange” (fr.
22); and this is certainly a very good name for what happens when fire
gives out smoke and takes in fuel instead.

Footnote 376:

  See above, Chap. I. § 29.

Footnote 377:

  See, however, the remark of Diels quoted R. P. 36 c.

Footnote 378:

  Diog. ix. 8, σαφῶς δ’ οὐθὲν ἐκτίθεται.

It has been pointed out that, in default of Hippolytos, our best account
of the Theophrastean doxography of Herakleitos is the fuller of the two
accounts given in Laertios Diogenes. It is as follows:—

  His opinions on particular points are these:—

  He held that Fire was the element, and that all things were an
  exchange for fire, produced by condensation and rarefaction. But he
  explains nothing clearly. All things were produced in opposition, and
  all things were in flux like a river.

  The all is finite and the world is one. It arises from fire, and is
  consumed again by fire alternately through all eternity in certain
  cycles. This happens according to fate. That which leads to the
  becoming of the opposites is called War and Strife; that which leads
  to the final conflagration is Concord and Peace.

  He called change the upward and the downward path, and held that the
  world comes into being in virtue of this. When fire is condensed it
  becomes moist, and when compressed it turns to water; water being
  congealed turns to earth, and this he calls the downward path. And,
  again, the earth is in turn liquefied, and from it water arises, and
  from that everything else; for he refers almost everything to the
  evaporation from the sea. This is the path upwards. R. P. 36.

  He held, too, that exhalations arose both from the sea and the land;
  some bright and pure, others dark. Fire was nourished by the bright
  ones, and moisture by the others.

  He does not make it clear what is the nature of that which surrounds
  the world. He held, however, that there were bowls in it with the
  concave sides turned towards us, in which the bright exhalations were
  collected and produced flames. These were the heavenly bodies.

  The flame of the sun was the brightest and warmest; for the other
  heavenly bodies were more distant from the earth; and for that reason
  gave less light and heat. The moon, on the other hand, was nearer the
  earth; but it moved through an impure region. The sun moved in a
  bright and unmixed region, and at the same time was at just the right
  distance from us. That is why it gives more heat and light. The
  eclipses of the sun and moon were due to the turning of the bowls
  upwards, while the monthly phases of the moon were produced by a
  gradual turning of its bowl.

  Day and night, months and seasons and years, rains and winds, and
  things like these, were due to the different exhalations. The bright
  exhalation, when ignited in the circle of the sun, produced day, and
  the preponderance of the opposite exhalations produced night. The
  increase of warmth proceeding from the bright exhalation produced
  summer, and the preponderance of moisture from the dark exhalation
  produced winter. He assigns the causes of other things in conformity
  with this.

  As to the earth, he makes no clear statement about its nature, any
  more than he does about that of the bowls.

  These, then, were his opinions. R. P. 39 b.

It is obvious that, if we can trust this passage, it is of the greatest
possible value; and that, upon the whole, we can trust it is shown by
the fact that it follows the exact order of topics to which all the
doxographies derived from the great work of Theophrastos adhere. First
we have the primary substance, then the world, then the heavenly bodies,
and lastly, meteorological phenomena. We conclude, then, that it may be
accepted with the exceptions, firstly, of the probably erroneous
conjecture of Theophrastos as to rarefaction and condensation mentioned
above; and secondly, of some pieces of Stoical interpretation which come
from the _Vetusta Placita_.

Let us look at the details of the theory. The pure fire, we are told, is
to be found chiefly in the sun. This, like the other heavenly bodies, is
a trough or bowl, or perhaps a sort of boat, with the concave side
turned towards us, in which the bright exhalations from the sea collect
and burn. How does the fire of the sun pass into other forms? If we look
at the fragments which deal with the downward path, we find that the
first transformation that it undergoes is into sea, and we are further
told that half of the sea is earth and half of it πρηστήρ (fr. 21). The
full meaning of this we shall see presently, but we must settle at once
what πρηστήρ is. Many theories have been advanced upon the subject; but,
so far as I know, no one[379] has yet proposed to take the word in the
sense which it always bears elsewhere, that, namely, of hurricane
accompanied by a fiery waterspout.[380] Yet surely this is just what is
wanted. It is amply attested that Herakleitos explained the rise of the
sea to fire by means of the bright evaporations; and we want a similar
meteorological explanation of the passing of the fire back into sea. We
want, in fact, something which will stand equally for the smoke produced
by the burning of the sun and for the immediate stage between fire and
water. What could serve the turn better than a fiery waterspout? It
sufficiently resembles smoke to be accounted for as the product of the
sun’s combustion, and it certainly comes down in the form of water. And
this interpretation becomes practically certain when taken in connexion
with the report of Aetios as to the Herakleitean theory of πρηστῆρες.
They were due, we are told, “to the kindling and extinction of
clouds.”[381] In other words, the bright vapour, after kindling in the
bowl of the sun and going out again, reappears as the dark fiery
storm-cloud, and so passes once more into sea. At the next stage we find
water continually passing into earth. We are already familiar with this
idea (§ 10), and no more need be said about it. Turning to the “upward
path,” we find that the earth is liquefied in the same proportion as the
sea becomes earth, so that the sea is still “measured by the same tale”
(fr. 23). Half of it is earth and half of it is πρηστήρ (fr. 21). This
must mean that, at any given moment, half of the sea is taking the
downward path, and has just been fiery storm-cloud, while half of it is
going up, and has just been earth. In proportion as the sea is increased
by rain, water passes into earth; in proportion as the sea is diminished
by evaporation, it is fed by the earth. Lastly, the ignition of the
bright vapour from the sea in the bowl of the sun completes the circle
of the “upward and downward path.”

Footnote 379:

  This was written in 1890. In his _Herakleitos von Ephesos_ (1901)
  Diels takes it as I did, rendering _Glutwind_.

Footnote 380:

  Cf. Herod. vii. 42, and Lucretius, vi. 424. Seneca (_Quaest. Nat._ ii.
  56) calls it _igneus turbo_. The opinions of early philosophers on
  these phenomena are collected in Aetios, iii. 3. The πρηστήρ of
  Anaximander (Chap. I. p. 69, _n._ 133) is a different thing
  altogether, but it is quite likely that Greek sailors named the
  meteorological phenomenon after the familiar bellows of the smith.

Footnote 381:

  Aet. iii. 3, 9, πρηστῆρας δὲ κατὰ νεφῶν ἐμπρήσεις καὶ σβέσεις (sc.
  Ἡράκλειτος ἀποφαίνεται γίγνεσθαι). Diels (_Herakleitos_, p. v.) seems
  to regard the πρηστήρ as the form in which water ascends to heaven.
  But the Greeks were well aware that waterspouts burst and come down.

[Sidenote: Measure for measure.]

72. The question now arises, How is it that, in spite of this constant
flux, things appear relatively stable? The answer of Herakleitos was
that it is owing to the observance of the “measures,” in virtue of which
the aggregate bulk of each form of matter in the long run remains the
same, though its substance is constantly changing. Certain “measures” of
the “ever-living fire” are always being kindled, while like “measures”
are always going out (fr. 20); and these measures the sun will not
exceed. All things are “exchanged” for fire and fire for all things (fr.
22), and this implies that for everything it takes, fire will give as
much. “The sun will not exceed his measures” (fr. 29).

And yet the “measures” are not to be regarded as absolutely fixed. We
gather from the passage of Diogenes quoted above that Theophrastos spoke
of an alternate preponderance of the bright and dark exhalations, and
Aristotle speaks of Herakleitos as explaining all things by
evaporation.[382] In particular, the alternation of day and night,
summer and winter, were accounted for in this way. Now, in a passage of
the pseudo-Hippokratean treatise Περὶ διαίτης which is almost certainly
of Herakleitean origin,[383] we read of an “advance of fire and water”
in connexion with day and night and the courses of the sun and
moon.[384] In fr. 26, again, we read of fire “advancing,” and all these
things seem to be intimately connected. We must therefore try to see
whether there is anything in the remaining fragments that bears upon the
subject.

Footnote 382:

  Arist. _de An._ Β, 2. 405 a 26, τὴν ἀναθυμίασιν ἐξ ἧς τἆλλα
  συνίστησιν.

Footnote 383:

  The presence of Herakleitean matter in this treatise was pointed out
  by Gesner, but Bernays was the first to make any considerable use of
  it in reconstructing the system. The older literature of the subject
  has been in the main superseded by Carl Fredrichs’ _Hippokratische
  Untersuchungen_ (1899), where also a satisfactory text of the sections
  which concern us is given for the first time. Fredrichs shows that (as
  I said already in the first edition) the work belongs to the period of
  eclecticism and reaction which I have briefly characterised in § 184,
  and he points out that c 3, which was formerly supposed to be mainly
  Herakleitean, is really from some work which was strongly influenced
  by Empedokles and Anaxagoras. I think, however, that he goes wrong in
  attributing the section to a nameless “Physiker” of the school of
  Archelaos, or even to Archelaos himself; it is far more like what we
  should expect from the eclectic Herakleiteans whom Plato describes in
  _Crat._ 413 c (see p. 161, _n._ 374). He is certainly wrong in holding
  the doctrine of the balance of fire and water not to be Herakleitean,
  and there is no justification for separating the remark quoted in the
  text from its context because it happens to agree almost verbally with
  the beginning of c. 3. As we shall see, that passage too is of
  Herakleitean origin.

Footnote 384:

  Περὶ διαίτης, i. 5. I should read thus: ἡμέρη καὶ εὐφρόνη ἐπὶ τὸ
  μήκιστον καὶ ἐλάχιστον· ἥλιος, σελήνη ἐπὶ τὸ μήκιστον καὶ ἐλάχιστον·
  πυρὸς ἔφοδος καὶ ὕδατος. In any case, the meaning is the same, and the
  sentence occurs between χωρεῖ δὲ πάντα καὶ θεῖα καὶ ἀνθρώπινα ἄνω καὶ
  κάτω ἀμειβόμενα and πάντα ταὐτὰ καὶ οὐ τὰ αὐτά, which are surely
  Herakleitean utterances.

[Sidenote: Man]

73. In studying this alternate advance of fire and water, it will be
convenient to start with the microcosm. We have more definite
information about the two exhalations in man than about the analogous
processes in the world at large, and it would seem that Herakleitos
himself explained the world by man rather than man by the world. In a
well-known passage, Aristotle implies that soul is identical with the
dry exhalation,[385] and this is fully confirmed by the fragments. Man
is made up of three things, fire, water, and earth. But, just as in the
macrocosm fire is identified with the one wisdom, so in the microcosm
the fire alone is conscious. When it has left the body, the remainder,
the mere earth and water, is altogether worthless (fr. 85). Of course,
the fire which animates man is subject to the “upward and downward
path,” just as much as the fire of the world. The Περὶ διαίτης has
preserved the obviously Herakleitean sentence: “All things are passing,
both human and divine, upwards and downwards by exchanges.”[386] We are
just as much in perpetual flux as anything else in the world. We are and
are not the same for two consecutive instants (fr. 81). The fire in us
is perpetually becoming water, and the water earth; but, as the opposite
process goes on simultaneously, we appear to remain the same.[387]

Footnote 385:

  Arist. _de An._ Α, 2. 405 a 25 (R. P. 38). Diels attributes to
  Herakleitos himself the words καὶ ψυχαὶ δὲ ἀπὸ τῶν ὑγρῶν ἀναθυμιῶνται,
  which are found in Areios Didymos after fr. 42. I can hardly believe,
  however, that the _word_ ἀναθυμίασις is Herakleitean. He seems rather
  to have called the two exhalations καπνός and ἀήρ (cf. fr. 37).

Footnote 386:

  Περὶ διαίτης, i. 5, χωρεῖ δὲ πάντα καὶ θεῖα καὶ ἀνθρώπινα ἄνω καὶ κάτω
  ἀμειβόμενα.

Footnote 387:

  We seem to have a clear reference to this in Epicharmos, fr. 2, Diels
  (170 b, Kaibel): “Look now at men too. One grows and another passes
  away, and all are in change always. What changes in its substance
  (κατὰ φύσιν) and never abides in the same spot, will already be
  something different from what has passed away. So thou and I were
  different yesterday, and are now quite other people, and again we
  shall become others and never the same again, and so on in the same
  way.” This is put into the mouth of a debtor who does not wish to pay.
  See Bernays on the αὐξανόμενος λόγος (_Ges. Abh._ i. pp. 109 sqq.).

[Sidenote: (_a_) Sleeping and waking.]

74. This, however, is not all. Man is subject to a certain oscillation
in his “measures” of fire and water, and this gives rise to the
alternations of sleeping and waking, life and death. The _locus
classicus_ on this subject is a passage of Sextus Empiricus, which
reproduces the account of the Herakleitean psychology given by
Ainesidemos (Skeptic, _c._ 80-50 B.C.).[388] It is as follows (R. P.
41):—

  The natural philosopher is of opinion that what surrounds us[389] is
  rational and endowed with consciousness. According to Herakleitos,
  when we draw in this divine reason by means of respiration, we become
  rational. In sleep we forget, but at our waking we become conscious
  once more. For in sleep, when the openings of the senses close, the
  mind which is in us is cut off from contact with that which surrounds
  us, and only our connexion with it by means of respiration is
  preserved as a sort of root (from which the rest may spring again);
  and, when it is thus separated, it loses the power of memory that it
  had before. When we awake again, however, it looks out through the
  openings of the senses, as if through windows, and coming together
  with the surrounding mind, it assumes the power of reason. Just, then,
  as embers, when they are brought near the the fire, change and become
  red-hot, and go out when they are taken away from it again, so does
  the portion of the surrounding mind which sojourns in our body become
  irrational when it is cut off, and so does it become of like nature to
  the whole when contact is established through the greatest number of
  openings.

Footnote 388:

  Sextus quotes “Ainesidemos according to Herakleitos.” Natorp holds
  (_Forschungen_, p. 78) that Ainesidemos really did combine
  Herakleiteanism with Skepticism. Diels, on the other hand (_Dox._ pp.
  210, 211), insists that Ainesidemos only gave an account of the
  theories of Herakleitos. This controversy does not affect the use we
  make of the passage.

Footnote 389:

  τὸ περιέχον ἡμᾶς, opposed to but parallel with τὸ περιέχον τὸν κόσμον.

In this passage there is obviously a very large admixture of later
phraseology and of later ideas. In particular, the identification of
“that which surrounds us” with the air cannot be Herakleitean; for
Herakleitos can have known nothing of air, which in his day was regarded
as a form of water (§ 27). The reference to the pores or openings of the
senses is probably foreign to him also; for the theory of pores is due
to Alkmaion (§ 96). Lastly, the distinction between mind and body is far
too sharply drawn. On the other hand, the important rôle assigned to
respiration may very well be Herakleitean; for we have met with it
already in Anaximenes. And we can hardly doubt that the striking simile
of the embers which glow when they are brought near the fire is genuine
(cf. fr. 77). The true Herakleitean doctrine doubtless was, that sleep
was produced by the encroachment of moist, dark exhalations from the
water in the body, which cause the fire to burn low. In sleep, we lose
contact with the fire in the world which is common to all, and retire to
a world of our own (fr. 95). In a soul where the fire and water are
evenly balanced, the equilibrium is restored in the morning by an equal
advance of the bright exhalation.

[Sidenote: (_b_) Life and death.]

75. But in no soul are the fire and water thus evenly balanced for long.
One or the other acquires predominance, and the result in either case is
death. Let us take each of these cases in turn. It is death, we know, to
souls to become water (fr. 68); but that is just what happens to souls
which seek after pleasure. For pleasure is a moistening of the soul (fr.
72), as may be seen in the case of the drunken man, who, in pursuit of
it, has moistened his soul to such an extent that he does not know where
he is going (fr. 73). Even in gentle relaxation over our cups, it is
more difficult to hide folly than at other times (fr. 108). That is why
it is so necessary for us to quench wantonness (fr. 103); for whatever
our heart’s desire insists on it purchases at the price of life, that
is, of the fire within us (fr. 105). Take now the other case. The dry
soul, that which has least moisture, is the best (fr. 74); but the
preponderance of fire causes death as much as that of water. It is a
very different death, however, and wins “greater portions” for those who
die it (fr. 101). Apparently those who fall in battle share their lot
(fr. 102). We have no fragment which tells us directly what it is, but
the class of utterances we are about to look at next leaves little doubt
on the subject. Those who die the fiery and not the watery death,
become, in fact, gods, though in a different sense from that in which
the one Wisdom is god. It is probable that the corrupt fragment 123
refers to this unexpected fate (fr. 122) that awaits men when they die.

Further, just as summer and winter are one, and necessarily reproduce
one another by their “opposite tension,” so do life and death. They,
too, are one, we are told; and so are youth and age (fr. 78). It follows
that the soul will be now living and now dead; that it will only turn to
fire or water, as the case may be, to recommence once more its unceasing
upward and downward path. The soul that has died from excess of moisture
sinks down to earth; but from the earth comes water, and from water is
once more exhaled a soul (fr. 68). So, too, we are told (fr. 67) that
gods and men are really one. They live each others’ life, and die each
others’ death. Those mortals that die the fiery death become
immortal,[390] they become the guardians of the quick and the dead (fr.
123);[391] and those immortals become mortal in their turn. Everything
is really the death of something else (fr. 64). The living and the dead
are always changing places (fr. 78), like the pieces on a child’s
draught-board (fr. 79), and this applies not only to the souls that have
become water, but to those that have become fire and are now guardian
spirits. The real weariness is continuance in the same state (fr. 82),
and the real rest is change (fr. 83). Rest in any other sense is
tantamount to dissolution (fr. 84).[392] So they too are born once more.
Herakleitos estimated the duration of the cycle which preserves the
balance of life and death as thirty years, the shortest time in which a
man may become a grandfather (frs. 87-89).[393]

Footnote 390:

  The popular word is used for the sake of its paradoxical effect.
  Strictly speaking, they are all mortal from one point of view and
  immortal from another.

Footnote 391:

  We need not hesitate to ascribe to Herakleitos the view that the dead
  become guardian demons of the living; it appears already in Hesiod,
  _Works and Days_, 121, and the Orphic communities had popularised it.
  Rohde, _Psyche_ (pp. 442 sqq.), refused to admit that Herakleitos
  believed the soul survived after death. Strictly speaking, it is no
  doubt an inconsistency; but I believe, with Zeller and Diels, that it
  is one of a kind we may well admit. Many thinkers have spoken of a
  personal immortality, though there was really no room for it in their
  systems. It is worthy of note in this connexion that the first
  argument which Plato uses to establish the doctrine of immortality in
  the _Phaedo_ is just the Herakleitean parallelism of life and death
  with sleeping and waking.

Footnote 392:

  These fragments are quoted by Plotinos, Iamblichos, and Noumenios in
  this very connexion (see R. P. 46 c), and it does not seem to me
  possible to hold, with Rohde, that they had no grounds for so
  interpreting them. They knew the context and we do not.

Footnote 393:

  Plut. _def. orac._ 415 d, ἔτη τριάκοντα ποιοῦσι τὴν γενεὰν καθ’
  Ἡράκλειτον, ἐν ᾧ χρόνῳ γεννῶντα παρέχει τὸν ἐξ αὑτοῦ γεγεννημένον ὁ
  γεννήσας. Philo, fr. Harris, p. 20, δυνατὸν ἐν τριακοστῷ ἔτει αὖ τὸν
  ἄνθρωπον πάππον γενέσθαι κ.τ.λ. Censorinus, _de die nat._ 17, 2, “hoc
  enim tempus (triaginta annos) _genean_ vocari Heraclitus auctor est,
  quia _orbis aetatis_ in eo sit spatio: orbem autem vocat aetatis, dum
  natura ab sementi humana ad sementim revertitur.” The words _orbis
  aetatis_ seem to mean αἰῶνος κύκλος, “the circle of life.” If so, we
  may compare the Orphic κύκλος γενέσεως.

[Sidenote: The day and the year.]

76. Let us turn now to the world. Diogenes tells us that fire was kept
up by the bright vapours from land and sea, and moisture by the
dark.[394] What are these “dark” vapours which increase the moist
element? If we remember the “Air” of Anaximenes, we shall be inclined to
regard them as darkness itself. We know that the idea of darkness as
privation of light is not natural to the unsophisticated mind. We
sometimes hear even now of darkness “thick enough to cut with a knife.”
I suppose, then, that Herakleitos believed night and winter to be
produced by the rise of darkness from earth and sea—he saw, of course,
that the valleys were dark before the hill-tops,—and that this darkness,
being moist, so increased the watery element as to put out the sun’s
light. This, however, destroys the power of darkness itself. It can no
longer rise upwards unless the sun gives it motion, and so it becomes
possible for a fresh sun (fr. 32) to be kindled, and to nourish itself
at the expense of the moist element for a time. But it can only be for a
time. The sun, by burning up the bright vapour, deprives himself of
nourishment, and the dark vapour once more gets the upper hand. It is in
this sense that “day and night are one” (fr. 35). Each implies the
other, and they are therefore to be regarded as merely two sides of the
one, in which alone their true ground of explanation is to be found (fr.
36).

Footnote 394:

  Diog. ix. 9 (R. P. 39 b).

Summer and winter were easily to be explained in the same way. We know
that the “turnings” of the sun were a subject of interest in those days,
and it was natural for Herakleitos to see in its retreat further to the
south the gradual advance of the moist element, caused by the heat of
the sun itself. This, however, diminishes the power of the sun to cause
evaporation, and so it must return to the north once more that it may
supply itself with nourishment. Such was, at any rate, the Stoic
doctrine on the subject,[395] and that it comes from Herakleitos seems
to be proved by its occurrence in the Περὶ διαίτης. It seems impossible
to refer the following sentence to any other source:—

  And in turn each (fire and water) prevails and is prevailed over to
  the greatest and least degree that is possible. For neither can
  prevail altogether for the following reasons. If fire advances towards
  the utmost limit of the water, its nourishment fails it. It retires,
  then, to a place where it can get nourishment. And if water advances
  towards the utmost limit of the fire, movement fails it. At that
  point, then, it stands still; and, when it has come to a stand, it has
  no longer power to resist, but is consumed as nourishment for the fire
  that falls upon it. For these reasons neither can prevail altogether.
  But if at any time either should be in any way overcome, then none of
  the things that exist would be as they are now. So long as things are
  as they are, fire and water will always be too, and neither will ever
  fail.[396]

Footnote 395:

  See Kleanthes, fr. 29, Pearson, ὠκεανὸς δ’ ἐστὶ <καὶ γῆ> ἧς τὴν
  ἀναθυμίασιν ἐπινέμεται (ὁ ἥλιος). Cf. Cic. _N.D._ iii. 37: “Quid enim?
  non eisdem vobis placet omnem ignem pastus indigere nec permanere ullo
  modo posse, nisi alitur: ali autem solem, lunam, reliqua astra aquis,
  alia dulcibus (from the earth), alia marinis? eamque causam Cleanthes
  adfert cur se sol referat nec longius progrediatur solstitiali orbi
  itemque brumali, ne longius discedat a cibo.”

Footnote 396:

  For the Greek text of this passage, see below, p. 183, _n._ 413.
  Fredrichs allows that it is from the same source as that quoted above
  (p. 169), and, as that comes from Περὶ διαίτης, i. 3, he denies the
  Herakleitean origin of this too. He has not taken account of the fact
  that it gives the Stoic doctrine, which raises a presumption in favour
  of that being Herakleitean. If I could agree with Fredrichs’ theory, I
  should still say that the present passage was a Herakleitean
  interpolation in the _Physiker_ rather than that the other was an
  interpolation from the _Physiker_ in the Herakleitean section. As it
  is, I find no difficulty in believing that both passages give the
  Herakleitean doctrine, though it becomes mixed up with other theories
  in the sequel. See p. 167, _n._ 383.

[Sidenote: The Great Year.]

77. Herakleitos spoke also of a longer period, which is identified with
the “Great Year,” and is variously described as lasting 18,000 and
10,800 years.[397] We have no definite statement, however, of what
process Herakleitos supposed to take place in the Great Year. We have
seen that the period of 36,000 years was, in all probability,
Babylonian, and was that of the revolution which produces the precession
of the equinoxes.[398] Now 18,000 years is just half that period, a fact
which may be connected with Herakleitos’s way of dividing all cycles
into an “upward and downward path” It is not at all likely, however,
that Herakleitos, who held with Xenophanes that the sun was “new every
day,” would trouble himself about the precession of the equinoxes, and
we seem forced to assume that he gave some new application to the
traditional period. The Stoics, or some of them, held that the Great
Year was the period between one world-conflagration and the next. They
were careful, however, to make it a good deal longer than Herakleitos
did, and, in any case, we are not entitled without more ado to credit
him with the theory of a general conflagration.[399] We must try first,
if possible, to interpret the Great Year on the analogy of the shorter
periods discussed already.

Footnote 397:

  Aet. ii. 32, 3, Ἡράκλειτος ἐκ μυρίων ὀκτακισχιλίων ἐνιαυτῶν ἡλιακῶν
  (τὸν μέγαν ἐνιαυτὸν εἶναι). Censorinus, _de die nat._ 11, Heraclitus
  et Linus, XDCCC.

Footnote 398:

  See Introd. § XII. p. 25, _n._ 39.

Footnote 399:

  For the Stoic doctrine, cf. Nemesios, _de nat. hom._ 38 (R. P. 503).
  Mr. Adam allowed that no destruction of the world or conflagration
  marked the end of Plato’s year, but he declined to draw what seems to
  me the natural inference that the connexion between the two things
  belongs to a later age, and should not, therefore, be ascribed to
  Herakleitos in the absence of any evidence that he did so connect
  them. Nevertheless, his treatment of these questions in the second
  volume of his edition of the _Republic_, pp. 302 sqq., must form the
  basis of all further discussion on the subject. It has certainly
  helped me to put the view which he rejects (p. 303, n. 9) in what I
  hope will be found a more convincing form.

Now we have seen that a generation is the shortest time in which a man
can become a grandfather, it is the period of the upward or downward
path of the soul, and the most natural interpretation of the longer
period would surely be that it represents the time taken by a “measure”
of the fire in the world to travel on the downward path to earth or
return to fire once more by the upward path. Plato certainly implies
that such a parallelism between the periods of man and the world was
recognised,[400] and this receives a curious confirmation from a passage
in Aristotle, which is usually supposed to refer to the doctrine of a
periodic conflagration. He is discussing the question whether the
“heavens,” that is to say, what he calls the “first heaven,” is eternal
or not, and he naturally enough, from his own point of view, identifies
this with the Fire of Herakleitos. He quotes him along with Empedokles
as holding that the “heavens” are alternately as they are now and in
some other state, one of passing away; and he goes on to point out that
this is not really to say they pass away, any more than it would be to
say that a man ceases to be, if we said that he turned from boy to man
and then from man to boy again.[401] It is surely clear that this is a
reference to the parallel between the generation and the Great Year,
and, if so, the ordinary interpretation of the passage must be wrong. It
is true that it is not quite consistent with the theory to suppose that
a “measure” of Fire could preserve its identity throughout the whole of
its upward and downward path; but it is exactly the same inconsistency
that we have felt bound to recognise with regard to the continuance of
individual souls, a fact which is really in favour of our
interpretation. It should be added that, while 18,000 is half 36,000,
10,800 is 360 × 30, which would make each generation a day in the Great
Year.[402]

Footnote 400:

  This is certainly the general sense of the parallelism between the
  periods of the ἀνθρώπειον and the θεῖον γεννητόν, however we may
  understand the details. See Adam, _Republic_, vol. ii. pp. 288 sqq.

Footnote 401:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Α, 10. 279 b 14, οἱ δ’ ἐναλλὰξ ὁτὲ μὲν οὕτως ὁτὲ δὲ
  ἄλλως ἔχειν φθειρόμενον, ... ὥσπερ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς ὀ Ἀκραγαντῖνος καὶ
  Ἡράκλειτος ὁ Ἐφέσιος. Aristotle points out that this really amounts
  only to saying that it is eternal and changes its form, ὥσπερ εἴ τις
  ἐκ παιδὸς ἄνδρα γιγνόμενον καὶ ἐξ ἀνδρὸς παῖδα ὁτὲ μὲν φθείρεσθαι, ὁτὲ
  δ’ εἶναι οἴοιτο (280 a 14). The point of the reference to Empedokles
  will appear from _de Gen. Corr._ Β, 6. 334 a 1 sqq. What Aristotle
  finds fault with in both theories is that they do not regard the
  substance of the heavens as something outside the upward and downward
  motion of the elements.

Footnote 402:

  This is practically Lassalle’s view of the Great Year, except that he
  commits the anachronism of speaking of “atoms” of fire instead of
  “measures.”

[Sidenote: Did Herakleitos teach a general conflagration?]

78. Most modern writers, however, ascribe to Herakleitos the doctrine of
a periodical conflagration or ἐκπύρωσις, to use the Stoic term.[403]
That this is inconsistent with the theory, as we have interpreted it, is
obvious, and is indeed admitted by Zeller. To his paraphrase of the
statement of Plato quoted above (p. 159) he adds the words: “Herakleitos
did not intend to retract this principle in the doctrine of a periodic
change in the constitution of the world; if the two doctrines are not
compatible, it is a contradiction which he has not observed.” Now, it is
in itself quite likely that there were contradictions in the discourse
of Herakleitos, but it is very unlikely that there was this particular
one. In the first place, it is a contradiction of the central idea of
his system, the thought that possessed his whole mind (§ 67), and we can
only admit the possibility of that, if the evidence for it should prove
irresistible. In the second place, such an interpretation destroys the
whole point of Plato’s contrast between Herakleitos and Empedokles (§
68), which is just that, while Herakleitos said the One was always many,
and the Many always one, Empedokles said the All was many and one by
turns. Zeller’s interpretation obliges us, then, to suppose that
Herakleitos flatly contradicted his own discovery without noticing it,
and that Plato, in discussing this very discovery, was also blind to the
contradiction.[404]

Footnote 403:

  Schleiermacher and Lassalle are notable exceptions. Zeller, Diels, and
  Gomperz are all positive that Herakleitos believed in the ἐκπύρωσις.

Footnote 404:

  In his fifth edition (p. 699) Zeller seems to feel this last
  difficulty; for he now says: “It is a contradiction which he, _and
  which probably Plato too_ (_und den wahrscheinlich auch Plato_) has
  not observed.” This seems to me still less arguable. Plato may or may
  not be mistaken; but he makes the perfectly definite statement that
  Herakleitos says ἀεί, while Empedokles says ἐν μέρει. The Ionian Muses
  are called συντονώτεραι and the Sicilian μαλακώτεραι just because the
  latter “lowered the pitch” (ἐχάλασαν) of the doctrine that this is
  always so (τὸ ἀεὶ ταῦτα οὕτως ἔχειν).

Nor is there anything in Aristotle to set against Plato’s emphatic
statement. We have seen that the passage in which he speaks of him along
with Empedokles as holding that the heavens were alternately in one
condition and in another refers not to the world in general, but to
fire, which Aristotle identified with the substance of his own “first
heaven.”[405] It is also quite consistent with our interpretation when
he says that all things at one time or another become fire. This does
not necessarily mean that they all become fire at the same time, but is
merely a statement of the undoubted Herakleitean doctrine of the upward
and downward path.[406]

Footnote 405:

  See above, p. 177, _n._ 401.

Footnote 406:

  _Phys._ Γ 5, 205 a 3 (_Met._ Κ, 10. 1067 a 4), ὥσπερ Ἡράκλειτός φησιν
  ἅπαντα γίνεσθαί ποτε πῦρ. Even in his fifth edition (p. 691) Zeller
  translates this _es werde alles dereinst zu Feuer werden_; but that
  would require γενήσεσθαι. Nor is there anything in his suggestion that
  ἅπαντα (“not merely πάντα”) implies that all things become fire at
  once. In Aristotle’s day, there was no distinction of meaning between
  πᾶς and ἅπας. Even if he had said σύμπαντα, we could not press it.
  What is really noticeable is the present infinitive γίνεσθαι which
  surely suggests a continuous process, not a series of conflagrations.

The only clear statements to the effect that Herakleitos taught the
doctrine of a general conflagration are posterior to the rise of
Stoicism. It is unnecessary to enumerate them, as there is no doubt
about their meaning. The Christian apologists too were interested in the
idea of a final conflagration, and reproduce the Stoic view. The curious
thing, however, is that there was a difference of opinion on the subject
even among the Stoics. In one place, Marcus Aurelius says: “So that all
these things are taken up into the Reason of the universe, whether by a
periodical conflagration or a renovation effected by external
exchanges.”[407] Indeed, there were some who said there was no general
conflagration at all in Herakleitos. “I hear all that,” Plutarch makes
one of his personages say, “from many people, and I see the Stoic
conflagration spreading over the poems of Hesiod, just as it does over
the writings of Herakleitos and the verses of Orpheus.”[408] We see from
this that the question was debated, and we should therefore expect that
any statement of Herakleitos which could settle it would be quoted over
and over again. It is highly significant that not a single quotation of
the kind can be produced.

Footnote 407:

  Marcus Aurelius, x. 7, ὥστε καὶ ταῦτα ἀναληφθῆναι εἰς τὸν τοῦ ὅλου
  λόγον, εἴτε κατὰ περίοδον ἐκπυρουμένου, εἴτε ἀιδίοις ἀμοιβαῖς
  ἀνανεουμένου. The ἀμοιβαί are specifically Herakleitean, and the
  statement is the more remarkable as Marcus elsewhere follows the usual
  Stoic interpretation.

Footnote 408:

  Plut. _de def. orac._ 415 f, καὶ ὁ Κλεόμβροτος, Ἀκούω ταῦτ’, ἔφη,
  πολλῶν καὶ ὁρῶ τὴν Στωικὴν ἐκπύρωσιν ὥσπερ τὰ Ἡρακλείτου καὶ Ὀρφέως
  ἐπινεμομένην ἔπη οὕτω καὶ τὰ Ἡσιόδου καὶ συνεξάπτουσαν. As Zeller
  admits (p. 693 n.), this proves that some opponents of the Stoic
  ἐκπύρωσις tried to withdraw the support of Herakleitos from it. Could
  they have done so if Herakleitos had said anything about it, or would
  not some one have produced a decisive quotation? We may be sure that,
  if any one had, it would have been reiterated _ad nauseam_, for the
  indestructibility of the world was one of the great questions of the
  day.

On the contrary, the absence of anything to show that Herakleitos spoke
of a general conflagration only becomes more patent when we turn to the
few fragments which are supposed to prove it. The favourite is fr. 24,
where we are told that Herakleitos said Fire was Want and Surfeit. That
is just in his manner, and it has a perfectly intelligible meaning on
our interpretation, which is further confirmed by fr. 36. On the other
hand, it seems distinctly artificial to understand the Surfeit as
referring to the fact that fire has burnt everything else up, and still
more so to interpret Want as meaning that fire, or most of it, has
turned into a world. The next is fr. 26, where we read that fire in its
advance will judge and convict all things. There is nothing in this,
however, to suggest that fire will judge all things at once rather than
in turn, and, indeed, the phraseology reminds us of the advance of fire
and water which we have seen reason for attributing to Herakleitos, but
which is expressly said to be limited to a certain maximum.[409] These
appear to be the only passages which the Stoics and the Christian
apologists could discover, and, whether our interpretation of them is
right or wrong, it is surely obvious that they cannot bear the weight of
their conclusion, and that there was certainly nothing more definite to
be found.

Footnote 409:

  Περὶ διαίτης, i. 3, ἐν μέρει δὲ ἑκάτερον κρατεῖ καὶ κρατεῖται ἐς τὸ
  μήκιστον καὶ ἐλάχιστον ὡς ἀνυστόν.

It is much easier to find fragments which are on the face of them
inconsistent with a general conflagration. The “measures” of fr. 20 and
fr. 29 must be the same thing, and they must surely be interpreted in
the light of fr. 23. If this be so, fr. 20, and more especially fr. 29,
directly contradict the idea of a general conflagration. “The sun will
not overstep his measures.”[410] Secondly, the metaphor of “exchange,”
which is applied to the transformations of fire in fr. 22, points in the
same direction. When gold is given in exchange for wares and wares for
gold, the sum or “measure” of each remains constant, though they change
owners. All the wares and gold do not come into the same hands. In the
same way, when anything becomes fire, something of equal amount must
cease to be fire, if the “exchange” is to be a just one; and that it
will be just, we are assured by the watchfulness of the Erinyes (fr.
29), who see to it that the sun does not take more than he gives. Of
course there is, as we have seen, a certain variation; but this is
strictly confined within limits, and is compensated in the long run by a
variation in the other direction. Thirdly, fr. 43, in which Herakleitos
blames Homer for desiring the cessation of strife, is very conclusive.
The cessation of strife would mean that all things should take the
upward or downward path at the same time, and cease to “run in opposite
directions.” If they all took the upward path, we should have a general
conflagration. Now, if Herakleitos had himself held that this was the
appointment of fate, would he have been likely to upbraid Homer for
desiring so necessary a consummation?[411] Fourthly, we note that in fr.
20 it is _this_ world,[412] and not merely the “ever-living fire,” which
is said to be eternal; and it appears also that its eternity depends
upon the fact that it is always kindling and always going out in the
same “measures,” or that an encroachment in one direction is compensated
by a subsequent encroachment in the other. Lastly, Lassalle’s argument
from the concluding sentence of the passage from the Περὶ διαίτης,
quoted above, is really untouched by Zeller’s objection, that it cannot
be Herakleitean because it implies that all things are fire and water.
It does not imply this, but only that _man_, like the heavenly bodies,
oscillates between fire and water; and that is just what Herakleitos
taught. It does not appear either that the measures of earth varied at
all. Now, in this passage we read that neither fire nor water can
prevail completely, and a very good reason is given for this, a reason
too which is in striking agreement with the other views of
Herakleitos.[413] And, indeed, it is not easy to see how, in accordance
with these views, the world could ever recover from a general
conflagration if such a thing were to take place. The whole process
depends, so far as we can see, on the fact that Surfeit is also Want,
or, in other words, that an advance of fire increases the moist
exhalation, while an advance of water deprives the fire of the power to
cause evaporation. The conflagration, though it lasted but for a
moment,[414] would destroy the opposite tension on which the rise of a
new world depends, and then motion would become impossible.

Footnote 410:

  If any one doubts that this is really the meaning of the “measures,”
  let him compare the use of the word by Diogenes of Apollonia, fr. 3.

Footnote 411:

  This is just the argument which Plato uses in the _Phaedo_ (72 c) to
  prove the necessity of ἀνταπόδοσις, and the whole series of arguments
  in that passage is distinctly Herakleitean in character.

Footnote 412:

  However we understand the term κόσμος here, the meaning is the same.
  Indeed, if we suppose with Bernays that it means “order,” the argument
  in the text will be all the stronger. In no sense of the word could a
  κόσμος survive the ἐκπύρωσις, and the Stoics accordingly said the
  κόσμος was φθαρτός.

Footnote 413:

  Περὶ διαίτης, i. 3 (see above, p. 167, _n._ 383, οὐδέτερον γὰρ
  κρατῆσαι παντελῶς δύναται διὰ τάδε· τό <τε> πῦρ ἐπεξιὸν ἐπὶ τὸ ἔσχατον
  τοῦ ὕδατος ἐπιλείπει ἡ τροφή· ἀποτρέπεται οὖν ὅθεν μέλλει τρέφεσθαι·
  τὸ ὕδωρ τε ἐπεξιὸν τοῦ πυρὸς ἐπὶ τὸ ἔσχατον, ἐπιλείπει ἡ κίνησις·
  ἵσταται οὖν ἐν τούτῳ, ὅταν δὲ στῇ, οὐκέτι ἐγκρατές ἐστιν, ἀλλ’ ἤδη τῷ
  ἐμπίπτοντι πυρὶ ἐς τῆν τροφὴν καταναλίσκεται· οὐδέτερον δὲ διὰ ταῦτα
  δύναται κρατῆσαι παντελῶς, εἰ δέ ποτε κρατηθείη καὶ ὁπότερον, οὐδὲν ἂν
  εἴη τῶν νῦν ἐόντων ὥσπερ ἔχει νῦν· οὕτω δὲ ἐχόντων ἀεὶ ἔσται τὰ αὐτὰ
  καὶ οὐδέτερον οὐδαμὰ ἐπιλείψει.

Footnote 414:

  In his note on fr. 66 (= 26 Byw.), Diels seeks to minimise the
  difficulty of the ἐκπύρωσις by saying that it is only a little one,
  and can last but a moment; but the contradiction noted above remains
  all the same. Diels holds that Herakleitos was “dark only in form,”
  and that “he himself was perfectly clear as to the sense and scope of
  his ideas” (_Herakleitos_, p. i.). To which I would add that he was
  probably called “the Dark” just because the Stoics sometimes found it
  hard to read their own ideas into his words.

[Sidenote: Strife and “harmony.”]

79. We are now in a position to understand more clearly the law of
strife or opposition which manifests itself in the “upward and downward
path.” At any given moment, each of the three forms of matter, Fire,
Water, and Earth, is made up of two equal portions,—subject, of course,
to the oscillation described above,—one of which is taking the upward
and the other the downward path. Now, it is just the fact that the two
halves of everything are being “drawn in opposite directions,” this
“opposite tension,” that “keeps things together,” and maintains them in
an equilibrium which can only be disturbed temporarily and within
certain limits. It thus forms the “hidden attunement” of the universe
(fr. 47), though, in another aspect of it, it is Strife. Bernays has
pointed out that the word ἁρμονία meant originally “structure,” and the
illustration of the bow and the lyre shows that this idea was present.
On the other hand, that taken from the concord of high and low notes
shows that the musical sense of the word, namely, an octave, was not
wholly absent. As to the “bow and the lyre” (fr. 45), I think that
Professor Campbell has best brought out the point of the simile. “As the
arrow leaves the string,” he says, “the hands are pulling opposite ways
to each other, and to the different parts of the bow (cf. Plato, _Rep._
4. 439); and the sweet note of the lyre is due to a similar tension and
retention. The secret of the universe is the same.”[415] War, then, is
the father and king of all things, in the world as in human society (fr.
44); and Homer’s wish that strife might cease was really a prayer for
the destruction of the world (fr. 43).

Footnote 415:

  Campbell’s _Theaetetus_ (2nd ed.), p. 244. See above, p. 150, _n._
  347. Bernays explained the phrase as referring to the _shape_ of the
  bow and lyre, but this is much less likely. Wilamowitz’s
  interpretation is substantially the same as Campbell’s. “Es ist mit
  der Welt wie mit dem Bogen, den man auseinanderzieht, damit er
  zusammenschnellt, wie mit der Saite, die man ihrer Spannung
  entgegenziehen muss, damit sie klingt” (_Lesebuch_, ii. p. 129).

We know from Philo that Herakleitos supported his theory of the
attainment of harmony through strife by a multitude of examples; and, as
it happens, some of these can be recovered. There is a remarkable
agreement between a passage of this kind in the pseudo-Aristotelian
treatise, entitled _The Kosmos_, and the Hippokratean work to which we
have already referred. That the authors of both drew from the same
source, namely, Herakleitos, is probable in itself, and is made
practically certain by the fact that this agreement extends in part to
the _Letters of Herakleitos_, which, though spurious, were certainly
composed by some one who had access to the original work. The argument
was that men themselves act just in the same way as Nature, and it is
therefore surprising that they do not recognise the laws by which she
works. The painter produces his harmonious effects by the contrast of
colours, the musician by that of high and low notes. “If one were to
make all things alike, there would be no delight in them.” There are
many similar examples in the Hippokratean tract, some of which must
certainly come from Herakleitos; but it is not easy to separate them
from the later additions.[416]

Footnote 416:

  See on all this Patin’s _Quellenstudien zu Heraklit_ (1881). The
  sentence (Περὶ διαίτης, i. 5): καὶ τὰ μὲν πρήσσουσιν οὐκ οἴδασιν, ἃ δὲ
  οὐ πρήσσουσι δοκέουσιν εἰδέναι· καὶ τὰ μὲν ὁρέουσιν οὐ γινώσκουσιν,
  ἀλλ’ ὅμως αὐτοῖσι πάντα γίνεται ... καὶ ἃ βούλονται καὶ ἃ μὴ
  βούλονται, has the true Herakleitean ring. This, too, can hardly have
  had another author: “They trust to their eyes rather than to their
  understanding, though their eyes are not fit to judge even of the
  things that are seen. But I speak these things from understanding.”
  These words are positively grotesque in the mouth of the medical
  compiler; but we are accustomed to hear such things from the Ephesian.
  Other examples which may be Herakleitean are the image of the two men
  sawing wood—“one pushes, the other pulls”—and the illustration from
  the art of writing.

[Sidenote: Correlation of opposites.]

80. There are a number of Herakleitean fragments which form a class by
themselves, and are among the most striking of all the utterances that
have come down to us. Their common characteristic is, that they assert
in the most downright way the identity of various things which are
usually regarded as opposites. The clue to their meaning is to be found
in the account already given of the assertion that day and night are
one. We have seen that Herakleitos meant to say, not that day was night
or that night was day, but that they were two sides of the same process,
namely, the oscillation of the “measures” of fire and water, and that
neither would be possible without the other. Any explanation that can be
given of night will also be an explanation of day, and _vice versa_; for
it will be an account of that which is common to both, and manifests
itself now as one and now as the other. Moreover, it is just because it
has manifested itself in the one form that it must next appear in the
other; for this is required by the law of compensation or Justice.

This is only a particular application of the universal principle that
the primary fire is one even in its division. It itself is, even in its
unity, both surfeit and want, war and peace (fr. 36). In other words,
the “satiety” which makes fire pass into other forms, which makes it
seek “rest in change” (frs. 82, 83), and “hide itself” (fr. 10) in the
“hidden attunement” of opposition, is only one side of the process. The
other is the “want” which leads it to consume the bright vapour as fuel.
The upward path is nothing without the downward (fr. 69). If either were
to cease, the other would cease too, and the world would disappear; for
it takes both to make an apparently stable reality.

All other utterances of the kind are to be explained in the same way. If
there were no cold, there would be no heat; for a thing can only grow
warm if, and in so far as, it is already cold. And the same thing
applies to the opposition of wet and dry (fr. 39). These, it will be
observed, are just the two primary oppositions of Anaximander, and
Herakleitos is showing that the war between them is really peace, for it
is the common element in them (fr. 62) which appears as strife, and that
very strife is justice, and not, as Anaximander had taught, an injustice
which they commit one against the other, and which must be expiated by a
reabsorption of both in their common ground.[417] The strife itself is
the common ground (fr. 62), and is eternal.

Footnote 417:

  Chap. I. § 16.

The most startling of these sayings is that which affirms that good and
evil are the same (fr. 57). This does not mean in the least, however,
that good is evil or that evil is good, but simply that they are the two
inseparable halves of one and the same thing. A thing can become good
only in so far as it is already evil, and evil only in so far as it is
already good, and everything depends on the contrast. The illustration
given in fr. 58 shows this clearly. Torture, one would say, was an evil,
and yet it is made a good by the presence of another evil, namely,
disease; as is shown by the fact that surgeons expect a fee for
inflicting it upon their patients. Justice, on the other hand, which is
a good, would be altogether unknown were it not for the existence of
injustice, which is an evil (fr. 60). And that is why it is not good for
men to get everything they wish (fr. 104). Just as the cessation of
strife in the world would mean its destruction, so the disappearance of
hunger, disease, and weariness would mean the disappearance of
satisfaction, health, and rest.

This leads to a theory of relativity which prepares the way for the
doctrine of Protagoras, that “Man is the measure of all things.”[418]
Sea-water is good for fish and bad for men (fr. 52), and so with many
other things. At the same time, Herakleitos is not a believer in
absolute relativity. The process of the world is not merely a circle,
but an “upward and downward path.” At the upper end, where the two paths
meet, we have the pure fire, in which, as there is no separation, there
is no relativity. We are told expressly that, while to man some things
are evil and some things are good, all things are good to God (fr. 61).
Now by God there is no doubt that Herakleitos meant Fire. He also calls
it the “one wise,” and perhaps said that it “knows all things.” There
can hardly be any question that what he meant to say was that in it the
opposition and relativity which are universal in the world disappear. It
is doubtless to this that frs. 96, 97, and 98 refer.

Footnote 418:

  Plato’s exposition of the relativity of knowledge in the _Theaetetus_
  (152 d sqq.) can hardly go back to Herakleitos himself, but is meant
  to show how Herakleiteanism might naturally give rise to such a
  doctrine. If the soul is a stream and things are a stream, then of
  course knowledge is relative. Very possibly the later Herakleiteans
  had worked out the theory in this direction, but in the days of
  Herakleitos himself the problem of knowledge had not yet arisen.

[Sidenote: The Wise.]

81. Herakleitos speaks of “wisdom” or the “wise” in two senses. We have
seen already that he said wisdom was “something apart from everything
else” (fr. 18), meaning by it the perception of the unity of the many;
and he also applies the term to that unity itself regarded as the
“thought that directs the course of all things.” This is synonymous with
the pure fire which is not differentiated into two parts, one taking the
upward and the other the downward path. That alone has wisdom; the
partial things we see have not. We ourselves are only wise in so far as
we are fiery (fr. 74).

[Sidenote: Theology.]

82. With certain reservations, Herakleitos was prepared to call the one
Wisdom by the name of Zeus. Such, at least, appears to be the meaning of
fr. 65. What these reservations were, it is easy to guess. It is not, of
course, to be pictured in the form of a man. In saying this, Herakleitos
would only have been repeating what had already been laid down by
Anaximander and Xenophanes. He agrees further with Xenophanes in holding
that this “god,” if it is to be called so, is one; but his polemic
against popular religion was directed rather against the rites and
ceremonies themselves than their mere mythological outgrowth. He gives a
list (fr. 124) of some of the most characteristic religious figures of
his time, and the context in which the fragment is quoted shows that he
in some way threatened them with the wrath to come. He comments upon the
absurdity of praying to images (fr. 126), and the strange idea that
blood-guiltiness can be washed out by the shedding of blood (fr. 130).
He seems also to have said that it was absurd to celebrate the worship
of Dionysos by cheerful and licentious ceremonies, while Hades was
propitiated by gloomy rites (fr. 127). According to the mystic doctrine
itself, the two were really one; and the one Wisdom ought to be
worshipped in its integrity.

The few fragments which deal with theology and religion hardly suggest
to us that Herakleitos was in sympathy with the religious revival of the
time, and yet we have been asked to consider his system “in the light of
the idea of the mysteries.”[419] Our attention is called to the fact
that he was “king” of Ephesos, that is, priest of the branch of the
Eleusinian mysteries established in that city, which was also connected
in some way with the worship of Artemis or the Great Mother.[420] These
statements may be true; but, even if they are, what follows? We ought
surely to have learnt from Lobeck by this time that there was no “idea”
in the mysteries at all; and on this point the results of recent
anthropological research have abundantly confirmed those of philological
and historical inquiry.

Footnote 419:

  E. Pfleiderer, _Die Philosophie des Heraklit von Ephesus im Lichte der
  Mysterienidee_ (1886).

Footnote 420:

  Antisthenes (the writer of _Successions_) _ap._ Diog. ix. 6 (R. P.
  31). Cf. Strabo, xiv. p. 633 (R. P. 31 b).

[Sidenote: Ethics of Herakleitos.]

83. The moral teaching of Herakleitos has sometimes been regarded as an
anticipation of the “common-sense” theory of Ethics.[421] The “common”
upon which Herakleitos insists is, nevertheless, something very
different from common sense, for which, indeed, he had the greatest
possible contempt (fr. 111). It is, in fact, his strongest objection to
“the many,” that they live each in his own world (fr. 95), as if they
had a private wisdom of their own (fr. 92); and public opinion is
therefore just the opposite of “the common.”

Footnote 421:

  Köstlin, _Gesch. d. Ethik_, i. pp. 160 sqq.

The Ethics of Herakleitos are to be regarded as a corollary of his
anthropological and cosmological views. Their chief requirement is that
we keep our souls dry, and thus assimilate them to the one Wisdom, which
is fire. That is what is really “common,” and the greatest fault is to
act like men asleep (fr. 94), that is, by letting our souls grow moist,
to cut ourselves off from the fire in the world. We do not know what
were the consequences which Herakleitos deduced from his rule that we
must hold fast to what is common, but it is easy to see what their
nature must have been. The wise man would not try to secure good without
its correlative evil. He would not seek for rest without exertion, nor
expect to enjoy contentment without first suffering discontent. He would
not complain that he had to take the bad with the good, but would
consistently look at things as a whole.

Herakleitos prepared the way for the Stoic world-state by comparing “the
common” to the laws of a city. And these are even more than a type of
the divine law: they are imperfect embodiments of it. They cannot,
however, exhaust it altogether; for in all human affairs there is an
element of relativity (fr. 91). “Man is a baby compared to God” (fr.
97). Such as they are, however, the city must fight for them as for its
walls; and, if it has the good fortune to possess a citizen with a dry
soul, he is worth ten thousand (fr. 113); for in him alone is “the
common” embodied.




                               CHAPTER IV
                           PARMENIDES OF ELEA


[Sidenote: Life.]

84. Parmenides, son of Pyres, was a citizen of Hyele, Elea, or Velia, a
colony founded in Oinotria by refugees from Phokaia in 540-39 B.C.[422]
Diogenes tells us that he “flourished” in Ol. LXIX. (504-500 B.C.), and
this was doubtless the date given by Apollodoros.[423] On the other
hand, Plato says that Parmenides came to Athens in his sixty-fifth year,
accompanied by Zeno, and conversed with Sokrates, who was then quite
young. Now Sokrates was just over seventy when he was put to death in
399 B.C.; and therefore, if we suppose him to have been an _ephebos_,
that is, from eighteen to twenty years old, at the time of his interview
with Parmenides, we get 451-449 B.C. as the date of that event. I do not
hesitate to accept Plato’s statement,[424] especially as we have
independent evidence of the visit of Zeno to Athens, where Perikles is
said to have “heard” him.[425] The date given by Apollodoros, on the
other hand, depends solely on that of the foundation of Elea, which he
had adopted as the _floruit_ of Xenophanes. Parmenides is born in that
year, just as Zeno is born in the year when Parmenides “flourished.” Why
any one should prefer these transparent combinations to the testimony of
Plato, I am at a loss to understand, though it is equally a mystery why
Apollodoros himself should have overlooked such precise data.

Footnote 422:

  Diog. ix. 21 (R. P. 111). For the foundation of Elea, see Herod. i.
  165 sqq. It was on the coast of Lucania, south of Poseidonia
  (Paestum).

Footnote 423:

  Diog. ix. 23 (R. P. 111). Cf. Diels, _Rhein. Mus._ xxxi. p. 34; and
  Jacoby, pp. 231 sqq.

Footnote 424:

  Plato, _Parm._ 127 b (R. P. 111 d). There are, as Zeller has shown, a
  certain number of anachronisms in Plato, but there is not one of this
  character. In the first place, we have exact figures as to the ages of
  Parmenides and Zeno, which imply that the latter was twenty-five years
  younger than the former, not forty as Apollodoros said. In the second
  place, Plato refers to this meeting in two other places (_Tht._ 183 e
  7 and _Soph._ 217 c 5), which do not seem to be mere references to the
  dialogue entitled _Parmenides_. No parallel can be quoted for an
  anachronism so glaring and deliberate as this would be. E. Meyer
  (_Gesch. des Alterth._ iv. § 509, _Anm._) also regards the meeting of
  Sokrates and Parmenides as historical.

Footnote 425:

  Plut. _Per._ 4, 3. See below, p. 358, _n._ 852.

We have seen already (§ 55) that Aristotle mentions a statement which
made Parmenides the disciple of Xenophanes; but the value of this
testimony is diminished by the doubtful way in which he speaks, and it
is more than likely that he is only referring to what Plato says in the
_Sophist_.[426] It is, we also saw, very improbable that Xenophanes
founded the school of Elea, though it is quite possible he visited that
city. He tells us himself that, in his ninety-second year, he was still
wandering up and down (fr. 8). At that time Parmenides would be well
advanced in life. And we must not overlook the statement of Sotion,
preserved to us by Diogenes, that, though Parmenides “heard” Xenophanes,
he did not “follow” him. According to this account, our philosopher was
the “associate” of a Pythagorean, Ameinias, son of Diochaitas, “a poor
but noble man to whom he afterwards built a shrine as to a hero.” It was
Ameinias and not Xenophanes that “converted” Parmenides to the
philosophic life.[427] This does not read like an invention, and we must
remember that the Alexandrians had information about the history of
Southern Italy which we have not. The shrine erected by Parmenides would
still be there in later days, like the grave of Pythagoras at
Metapontion. It should also be mentioned that Strabo describes
Parmenides and Zeno as Pythagoreans, and that Kebes talks of a
“Parmenidean and Pythagorean way of life.”[428] Zeller explains all this
by supposing that, like Empedokles, Parmenides approved of and followed
the Pythagorean mode of life without adopting the Pythagorean system. It
is possibly true that Parmenides believed in a “philosophic life” (§
35), and that he got the idea from the Pythagoreans; but there is very
little trace, either in his writings or in what we are told about him,
of his having been in any way affected by the religious side of
Pythagoreanism. The writing of Empedokles is obviously modelled upon
that of Parmenides, and yet there is an impassable gulf between the two.
The touch of charlatanism, which is so strange a feature in the copy, is
altogether absent from the model. It is true, no doubt, that there are
traces of Orphic ideas in the poem of Parmenides;[429] but they are all
to be found either in the allegorical introduction or in the second part
of the poem, and we need not therefore take them very seriously. Now
Parmenides was a western Hellene, and he had probably been a
Pythagorean, so it is not a little remarkable that he should be so free
from the common tendency of his age and country. It is here, if
anywhere, that we may trace the influence of Xenophanes. As regards his
relation to the Pythagorean system, we shall have something to say later
on. At present we need only note further that, like most of the older
philosophers, he took part in politics; and Speusippos recorded that he
legislated for his native city. Others add that the magistrates of Elea
made the citizens swear every year to abide by the laws which Parmenides
had given them.[430]

Footnote 426:

  See above, Chap. II. p. 140, _n._ 308.

Footnote 427:

  Diog. ix. 21 (R. P. III), reading Ἀμεινίᾳ Διοχαίτα with Diels
  (_Hermes_, xxxv. p. 197). Sotion, in his _Successions_, separated
  Parmenides from Xenophanes and associated him with the Pythagoreans
  (_Dox._ pp. 146, 148, 166).

Footnote 428:

  Strabo, vi. 1, p. 252 (p. 195, _n._ 430); Ceb. _Tab._ 2 (R. P. 111 c).
  This Kebes is not the Kebes of the _Phaedo_; but he certainly lived
  some time before Lucian, who speaks of him as a well-known writer. A
  Cynic of the name is mentioned by Athenaios (156 d). The statements of
  Strabo are of the greatest value; for they are based upon historians
  now lost.

Footnote 429:

  O. Kern in _Arch._ iii. pp. 173 sqq. We know too little, however, of
  the apocalyptic poems of the sixth century B.C. to be sure of the
  details. All we can say is that Parmenides has taken the form of his
  poem from some such source. See Diels, “Ueber die poetischen Vorbilder
  des Parmenides” (_Berl. Sitzb._ 1896), and the Introduction to his
  _Parmenides Lehrgedicht_, pp. 9 sqq.

Footnote 430:

  Diog. ix. 23 (R. P. 111). Plut. _adv. Col._ 1226 a, Παρμενίδης δὲ τὴν
  ἑαυτοῦ πατρίδα διεκόσμησε νόμοις ἀρίστοις, ὥστε τὰς ἀρχὰς καθ’ ἕκαστον
  ἐνιαυτὸν ἐξορκοῦν τοὺς πολίτας ἐμμενεῖν τοῖς Παρμενίδου νόμοις.
  Strabo, vi. 1. p. 252, (Ἐλέαν) ἐξ ἧς Παρμενίδης καὶ Ζήνων ἐγένοντο
  ἄνδρες Πυθαγόρειοι. δοκεῖ δέ μοι καὶ δι’ ἐκείνους καὶ ἔτι πρότερον
  εὐνομηθῆναι.

[Sidenote: The poem.]

85. Parmenides was really the first philosopher to expound his system in
metrical language. As there is some confusion on this subject, it
deserves a few words of explanation. In writing of Empedokles, Mr. J. A.
Symonds said: “The age in which he lived had not yet thrown off the form
of poetry in philosophical composition. Even Parmenides had committed
his austere theories to hexameter verse.” Now this is wrongly put. The
earliest philosophers, Anaximander, Anaximenes, and Herakleitos, all
wrote in prose, and the only Greeks who ever wrote philosophy in verse
at all were just these two, Parmenides and Empedokles; for Xenophanes
was not primarily a philosopher any more than Epicharmos. Empedokles
copied Parmenides; and he, no doubt, was influenced by Xenophanes and
the Orphics. But the thing was an innovation, and one that did not
maintain itself.

The fragments of Parmenides are preserved for the most part by
Simplicius, who fortunately inserted them in his commentary, because in
his time the original work was already rare.[431] I follow the
arrangement of Diels.

Footnote 431:

  Simpl. _Phys._ 144, 25 (R. P. 117). Simplicius, of course, had the
  library of the Academy at his command. Diels notes, however, that
  Proclus seems to have used a different MS.


                                   (1)

  The car that bears me carried me as far as ever my heart desired,
  since it brought me and set me on the renowned way of the goddess,
  which alone leads the man who knows through all things. On that way
  was I borne along; for on it did the wise steeds carry me, drawing my
  car, and maidens <<5>> showed the way. And the axle, glowing in the
  socket—for it was urged round by the whirling wheels at each end—gave
  forth a sound as of a pipe, when the daughters of the Sun, hasting to
  convey me into the light, threw back their veils from off their faces
  and left the abode of Night. <<10>>

  There are the gates of the ways of Night and Day,[432] fitted above
  with a lintel and below with a threshold of stone. They themselves,
  high in the air, are closed by mighty doors, and Avenging Justice
  keeps the keys that fit them. Her did the maidens entreat with gentle
  words and cunningly persuade <<15>> to unfasten without demur the
  bolted bars from the gates. Then, when the doors were thrown back,
  they disclosed a wide opening, when their brazen posts fitted with
  rivets and nails swung back one after the other. Straight through
  them, on the broad way, did the maidens guide the horses and the
  <<20>> car, and the goddess greeted me kindly, and took my right hand
  in hers, and spake to me these words:

  Welcome, O youth, that comest to my abode on the car that bears thee
  tended by immortal charioteers! It is no ill <<25>> chance, but right
  and justice that has sent thee forth to travel on this way. Far,
  indeed, does it lie from the beaten track of men! Meet it is that thou
  shouldst learn all things, as well the unshaken heart of well-rounded
  truth, as the opinions of mortals in which is no true belief at all.
  Yet <<30>> none the less shalt thou learn these things also,—how they
  should have judged that the things which seem to them are,—as thou
  goest through all things in thy journey.[433]

                  *       *       *       *       *

  But do thou restrain thy thought from this way of inquiry, nor let
  habit by its much experience force thee to cast upon this way a
  wandering eye or sounding ear or tongue; but <<35>> judge by argument
  the much disputed proof uttered by me. There is only one way left that
  can be spoken of.[434]... R. P. 113.

                             THE WAY OF TRUTH

                                   (2)

  Look steadfastly with thy mind at things though afar as if they were
  at hand. Thou canst not cut off what is from holding fast to what is,
  neither scattering itself abroad in order nor coming together. R. P.
  118 a.

                                   (3)

  It is all one to me where I begin; for I shall come back again there.

                                  (4, 5)

  Come now, I will tell thee—and do thou hearken to my saying and carry
  it away—the only two ways of search that can be thought of. The first,
  namely, that _It is_, and that it is impossible for it not to be, is
  the way of belief, for truth is its companion. The other, namely, that
  _It is not_, and that <<5>> it must needs not be,—that, I tell thee,
  is a path that none can learn of at all. For thou canst not know what
  is not—that is impossible—nor utter it; for it is the same thing that
  can be thought and that can be.[435] R. P. 114.

                                   (6)

  It needs must be that what can be thought and spoken of is; for it is
  possible for it to be, and it is not possible for what is nothing to
  be.[436] This is what I bid thee ponder. I hold thee back from this
  first way of inquiry, and from this other also, upon which mortals
  knowing naught wander <<5>> two-faced; for helplessness guides the
  wandering thought in their breasts, so that they are borne along
  stupefied like men deaf and blind. Undiscerning crowds, in whose eyes
  it is, and is not, the same and not the same,[437] and all things
  travel in opposite directions![438] R. P. 115.

                                   (7)

  For this shall never be proved, that the things that are not are; and
  do thou restrain thy thought from this way of inquiry. R. P. 116.

                                   (8)

  One path only is left for us to speak of, namely, that _It is_. In it
  are very many tokens that what is is uncreated and indestructible; for
  it is complete,[439] immovable, and without end. Nor was it ever, nor
  will it be; for now _it is_, all at once, a continuous one. For what
  kind of origin for it wilt <<5>> thou look for? In what way and from
  what source could it have drawn its increase? I shall not let thee say
  nor think that it came from what is not; for it can neither be thought
  nor uttered that anything is not. And, if it came from nothing, what
  need could have made it arise later rather than sooner? <<10>>
  Therefore must it either be altogether or be not at all. Nor will the
  force of truth suffer aught to arise besides itself from that which is
  not.[440] Wherefore, Justice doth not loose her fetters and let
  anything come into being or pass away, but holds it fast. Our judgment
  thereon depends on this: “_Is it_ <<15>> or _is it not_?” Surely it is
  adjudged, as it needs must be, that we are to set aside the one way as
  unthinkable and nameless (for it is no true way), and that the other
  path is real and true. How, then, can what _is_ be going to be in the
  future? Or how could it come into being? If it came into <<20>> being,
  it is not; nor is it if it is going to be in the future. Thus is
  becoming extinguished and passing away not to be heard of. R. P. 117.

  Nor is it divisible, since it is all alike, and there is no more[441]
  of it in one place than in another, to hinder it from holding
  together, nor less of it, but everything is full of what is. Wherefore
  it is wholly continuous; for what is, is in contact <<25>> with what
  is.

  Moreover, it is immovable in the bonds of mighty chains, without
  beginning and without end; since coming into being and passing away
  have been driven afar, and true belief has cast them away. It is the
  same, and it rests in the self-same place, abiding in itself. And thus
  it remaineth constant in <<30>> its place; for hard necessity keeps it
  in the bonds of the limit that holds it fast on every side. Wherefore
  it is not permitted to what is to be infinite; for it is in need of
  nothing; while, if it were infinite, it would stand in need of
  everything.[442] R. P. 118.

  The thing that can be thought and that for the sake of which the
  thought exists is the same;[443] for you cannot find <<35>> thought
  without something that is, as to which it is uttered.[444] And there
  is not, and never shall be, anything besides what is, since fate has
  chained it so as to be whole and immovable. Wherefore all these things
  are but names which mortals have given, believing them to be
  true—coming into being and <<40>> passing away, being and not being,
  change of place and alteration of bright colour. R. P. 119.

  Since, then, it has a furthest limit, it is complete on every side,
  like the mass of a rounded sphere, equally poised from the centre in
  every direction; for it cannot be greater or <<45>> smaller in one
  place than in another. For there is no nothing that could keep it from
  reaching out equally, nor can aught that is be more here and less
  there than what is, since it is all inviolable. For the point from
  which it is equal in every direction tends equally to the limits. R.
  P. 120.


                            THE WAY OF OPINION

  Here shall I close my trustworthy speech and thought <<50>> about the
  truth. Henceforward learn the opinions of mortals, giving ear to the
  deceptive ordering of my words.

  Mortals have made up their minds to name two forms, one of which they
  should not name,[445] and that is where they go astray from the truth.
  They have distinguished them as <<55>> opposite in form, and have
  assigned to them marks distinct from one another. To the one they
  allot the fire of heaven, gentle, very light, in every direction the
  same as itself, but not the same as the other. The other is just the
  opposite to it, dark night, a compact and heavy body. Of these I tell
  thee <<60>> the whole arrangement as it seems likely; for so no
  thought of mortals will ever outstrip thee. R. P. 121.

                                   (9)

  Now that all things have been named light and night, and the names
  which belong to the power of each have been assigned to these things
  and to those, everything is full at once of light and dark night, both
  equal, since neither has aught to do with the other.

                                 (10, 11)

  And thou shalt know the substance of the sky, and all the signs in the
  sky, and the resplendent works of the glowing sun’s pure torch, and
  whence they arose. And thou shalt learn likewise of the wandering
  deeds of the round-faced moon, and of her substance. Thou shalt know,
  too, the heavens that surround <<5>> us, whence they arose, and how
  Necessity took them and bound them to keep the limits of the stars ...
  how the earth, and the sun, and the moon, and the sky that is common
  to all, and the Milky Way, and the outermost Olympos, and the burning
  might of the stars arose. <<10>> R. P. 123, 124.

                                   (12)

  The narrower rings are filled with unmixed fire, and those next them
  with night, and in the midst of these rushes their portion of fire. In
  the midst of these circles is the divinity that directs the course of
  all things; for she is the beginner of all painful birth and all
  begetting, driving the female to the <<5>> embrace of the male, and
  the male to that of the female. R. P. 125.

                                   (13)

  First of all the gods she contrived Eros. R. P. 125.

                                   (14)

  Shining by night with borrowed light,[446] wandering round the earth.

                                   (15)

  Always looking to the beams of the sun.

                                   (16)

  For just as thought finds at any time the mixture of its erring
  organs, so does it come to men; for that which thinks is the same,
  namely, the substance of the limbs, in each and every man; for their
  thought is that of which there is more in them.[447] R. P. 128.

                                   (17)

  On the right boys; on the left girls.[448]

                                   (19)

  Thus, according to men’s opinions, did things come into being, and
  thus they are now. In time they will grow up and pass away. To each of
  these things men have assigned a fixed name. R. P. 129 b.

Footnote 432:

  For these see Hesiod, _Theog._ 748.

Footnote 433:

  See below, p. 211, _n._ 459.

Footnote 434:

  I read μῦθος as in the parallel passage fr. 8 _ad init._ Diels’s
  interpretation of θυμὸς ὁδοῖο (the MS. reading here) as _ein
  lebendiger Weg_ does not convince me, and the confusion of the two
  words is fairly common.

Footnote 435:

  I read with Zeller (p. 558 n. 1, Eng. trans. p. 584, n. 1) τὸ γὰρ αὐτὸ
  νοεῖν ἔστιν τε καὶ εἶναι. Apart from the philosophical anachronism of
  making Parmenides say that “thought and being are the same,” it is a
  grammatical anachronism to make him use the infinitive (with or
  without the article) as the subject of a sentence. On the other hand,
  he does use the active infinitive after εἶναι in the construction
  where we usually use a passive infinitive (Monro, _H. Gr._ § 231 _sub
  fin._). Cf. fr. 4, εἰσὶ νοῆσαι, “are for thinking,” _i.e._ “can be
  thought.”

Footnote 436:

  The construction here is the same as that explained in the last note.
  It is surprising that good scholars should acquiesce in the
  translation of τὸ λέγειν τε νοεῖν τε as “to say and think this.” Then
  ἔστι γὰρ εἶναι means “it can be,” not “being is,” and the last phrase
  should be construed οὐκ ἔστι μηδὲν (εἶναι).

Footnote 437:

  I construe οἷς νενόμισται τὸ πέλειν τε καὶ οὐκ εἶναι ταὐτὸν καὶ οὐ
  ταὐτόν. The subject of the infinitives πέλειν καὶ οὐκ εἶναι is the
  _it_, which has to be supplied also with ἔστιν and οὐκ ἔστιν. This way
  of taking the words makes it unnecessary to believe that Parmenides
  said (τὸ) οὐκ εἶναι instead of (τὸ) μὴ εἶναι for “not-being.” There is
  no difference between πέλειν and εἶναι except in rhythmical value.

Footnote 438:

  I take πάντων as neuter and understand παλίντροπος κέλευθος as
  equivalent to the ὁδὸς ἄνω κάτω of Herakleitos. I do not think it has
  anything to do with the παλίντονος (or παλίντροπος) ἁρμονίη. See Chap.
  III. p. 150, _n._ 347.

Footnote 439:

  I still prefer to read ἔστι γὰρ οὐλομελές with Plutarch (_adv. Col._
  1114 c). Proklos (_in Parm._ 1152, 24) also read οὐλομελές.
  Simplicius, who has μουνογενές here, calls the One of Parmenides
  ὁλομελές elsewhere (_Phys._ p. 137, 15). The reading of [Plut.]
  _Strom._ 5, μοῦνον μουνογενές helps to explain the confusion. We have
  only to suppose that the letters μ, ν, γ were written above the line
  in the Academy copy of Parmenides by some one who had _Tim._ 31 b 3 in
  mind.

Footnote 440:

  Diels formerly read ἔκ πη ἐόντος, “from that which in any way is”; but
  he has now reverted to the reading ἔκ μὴ ἐόντος, supposing that the
  other horn of the dilemma has dropped out. In any case, “nothing but
  what is not can arise from what is not” gives a perfectly good sense.

Footnote 441:

  For the difficulties which have been felt about μᾶλλον here, see
  Diels’s note. If the word is to be pressed, his interpretation is
  admissible; but it seems to me that this is simply an instance of
  “polar expression.” It is true that it is only the case of there being
  less of what is in one place than another that is important for the
  divisibility of the One; but if there is less in one place, there is
  more in another _than in that place_. The Greek language tends to
  express these implications. The position of the relative clause makes
  a difficulty for us, but hardly for a Greek.

Footnote 442:

  Simplicius certainly read μὴ ἐὸν δ’ ἂν παντὸς ἐδεῖτο, which is
  metrically impossible. I followed Bergk in deleting μή, and have
  interpreted with Zeller. So too Diels.

Footnote 443:

  For the construction of ἔστι νοεῖν, see above, p. 198, _n._ 435.

Footnote 444:

  As Diels rightly points out, the Ionic φατίζειν is equivalent to
  ὀνομάζειν. The meaning, I think, is this. We may name things as we
  choose, but there can be no thought corresponding to a name that is
  not the name of something real.

Footnote 445:

  This is Zeller’s way of taking the words, and still seems to me the
  best. Diels objects that ἑτέρην would be required, and renders _nur
  eine derselben, das sei unerlaubt_, giving the words to the “mortals.”
  This seems to me to involve more serious grammatical difficulties than
  the use of μίαν for τὴν ἑτέραν, which is quite legitimate when there
  is an emphasis on the number. Aristotle must have taken it so; for he
  infers that one of the μορφαί is to be identified with τὸ ἐόν.

Footnote 446:

  Note the curious echo of _Il._ v. 214. Empedokles has it too (v. 154).
  It appears to be a joke, made in the spirit of Xenophanes, when it was
  first discovered that the moon shone by reflected light.

Footnote 447:

  This fragment of the theory of knowledge which was expounded in the
  second part of the poem of Parmenides must be taken in connexion with
  what we are told by Theophrastos in the “Fragment on Sensation”
  (_Dox._ p. 499; cf. p. 222). It appears from this that he said the
  character of men’s thought depended upon the preponderance of the
  light or the dark element in their bodies. They are wise when the
  light element predominates, and foolish when the dark gets the upper
  hand.

Footnote 448:

  This is a fragment of Parmenides’s embryology. Diels’s fr. 18 is a
  retranslation of the Latin hexameters of Caelius Aurelianus quoted R.
  P. 127 a.

[Sidenote: “It is.”]

86. In the First Part of his poem, we find Parmenides chiefly interested
to prove that _it is_; but it is not quite obvious at first sight what
it is precisely that _is_. He says simply, _What is, is_. To us this
does not seem very clear, and that for two reasons. In the first place,
we should never think of doubting it, and we cannot, therefore,
understand why it should be asserted with such iteration and vigour. In
the second place, we are accustomed to all sorts of distinctions between
different kinds and degrees of reality, and we do not see which of these
is meant. Such distinctions, however, were quite unknown in those days.
“That which is,” with Parmenides, is primarily what, in popular
language, we call matter or body; only it is not matter as distinguished
from anything else. It is certainly regarded as spatially extended; for
it is quite seriously spoken of as a sphere (fr. 8, 40). Moreover,
Aristotle tells us that Parmenides believed in none but a sensible
reality, which does not necessarily mean with him a reality that is
actually perceived by the senses, but includes any which might be so
perceived if the senses were more perfect than they are.[449] Parmenides
does not say a word about “Being” anywhere.[450] The assertion that _it
is_ amounts just to this, that the universe is a _plenum_; and that
there is no such thing as empty space, either inside or outside the
world. From this it follows that there can be no such thing as motion.
Instead of endowing the One with an impulse to change, as Herakleitos
had done, and thus making it capable of explaining the world, Parmenides
dismissed change as an illusion. He showed once for all that if you take
the One seriously you are bound to deny everything else. All previous
solutions of the question, therefore, had missed the point. Anaximenes,
who thought to save the unity of the primary substance by his theory of
rarefaction and condensation, did not observe that, by assuming there
was less of what is in one place than another, he virtually affirmed the
existence of what is not (fr. 8, 42). The Pythagorean explanation
implied that empty space or air existed outside the world, and that it
entered into it to separate the units (§ 53). It, too, assumes the
existence of what is not. Nor is the theory of Herakleitos any more
satisfactory; for it is based upon the contradiction that fire both is
and is not (fr. 6).

Footnote 449:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Γ, 1. 298 b 21, ἐκεῖνοι δὲ (οἱ περὶ Μέλισσόν τε καὶ
  Παρμενίδην) διὰ τὸ μηθὲν μὲν ἄλλο παρὰ τὴν τῶν αἰσθητῶν οὐσίαν
  ὑπολαμβάνειν εἶναι κ.τ.λ. So too Eudemos, in the first book of his
  Physics (_ap._ Simpl. _Phys._ p. 133, 25), said of Parmenides: τὸ μὲν
  οὖν κοινὸν οὐκ ἂν λέγοι. οὔτε γὰρ ἐζητεῖτό πω τὰ τοιαῦτα, ἀλλ’ ὕστερον
  ἐκ τῶν λόγων προήλθεν, οὔτε ἐπιδέχοιτο ἂν ἂ τῷ ὅντι ἐπιλέγει. πῶς γὰρ
  ἔσται τοῦτο “μέσσοθεν ἰσοπαλὲς” καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα; τῷ δὲ οὐρανῷ (the
  world) σχεδὸν πάντες ἐφαρμόσουσιν οἱ τοιοῦτοι λόγοι The Neoplatonists,
  of course, saw in the One the νοητὸς κόσμος, and Simplicius calls the
  sphere a “mythical figment.” See especially Baümker, “Die Einheit des
  Parmenideischen Seiendes” (_Jahrb. f. kl. Phil._ 1886, pp. 541 sqq.),
  and _Das Problem der Materie_, pp. 50 sqq.

Footnote 450:

  We must not render τὸ ἐόν by “Being,” _das Sein_ or _l’être_. It is
  “what is,” _das Seiende, ce qui est_. As to (τὸ) εἶναι it does not,
  and could not, occur. Cf. p. 198, _n._ 435, above.

The allusion to Herakleitos in the verses last referred to has been
doubted, though upon insufficient grounds. Zeller points out quite
rightly that Herakleitos never says Being and not-Being are the same
(the common translation of fr. 6, 8); and, were there nothing more than
this, the reference might well seem doubtful. The statement, however,
that, according to the view in question, “all things travel in opposite
directions,” can hardly be understood of anything but the “upward and
downward path” of Herakleitos (§ 71). And, as we have seen, Parmenides
does not attribute the view that Being and not-Being are the same to the
philosopher whom he is attacking; he only says that _it_ is and is not,
the same and not the same.[451] That is the natural meaning of the
words; and it furnishes a very accurate description of the theory of
Herakleitos.

Footnote 451:

  See above, p. 198, _n._ 437.

[Sidenote: The method of Parmenides.]

87. The great novelty in the poem of Parmenides is the method of
argument. He first asks what is the common presupposition of all the
views with which he has to deal, and he finds that this is the existence
of what is not. The next question is whether this can be thought, and
the answer is that it cannot. If you think at all, you must think of
something. Therefore there is no nothing. Philosophy had not yet learned
to make the admission that a thing might be unthinkable and nevertheless
exist. Only that can be which can be thought (fr. 5); for thought exists
for the sake of what is (fr. 8, 34).

This method Parmenides carries out with the utmost rigour. He will not
have us pretend that we think what we must admit to be unthinkable. It
is true that if we resolve to allow nothing but what we can understand,
we come into direct conflict with the evidence of our senses, which
present us with a world of change and decay. So much the worse for the
senses, says Parmenides. To many this will doubtless seem a mistake on
his part, but let us see what history has to say on the point. The
theory of Parmenides is the inevitable outcome of a corporeal monism,
and his bold declaration of it ought to have destroyed that theory for
ever. If he had lacked courage to work out the prevailing views of his
time to their logical conclusion, and to accept that conclusion, however
paradoxical it might seem to be, men might have gone on in the endless
circle of opposition, rarefaction and condensation, one and many, for
ever. It was the thorough-going dialectic of Parmenides that made
progress possible. Philosophy must now cease to be monistic or cease to
be corporealist. It could not cease to be corporealist; for the
incorporeal was still unknown. It therefore ceased to be monistic, and
arrived at the atomic theory, which, so far as we know, is the last word
of the view that the world is matter in motion. Having worked out its
problems on those conditions, philosophy next attacked them on the other
side. It ceased to be corporealist, and found it possible to be monistic
once more, at least for a time. This progress would have been impossible
but for that faith in reason which gave Parmenides the courage to reject
as untrue what was to him unthinkable, however strange the result might
be.

[Sidenote: The results.]

88. He goes on to develop all the consequences of the admission that _it
is_. It must be uncreated and indestructible. It cannot have arisen out
of nothing; for there is no such thing as nothing. Nor can it have
arisen from something; for there is no room for anything but itself.
What is cannot have beside it any empty space in which something else
might arise; for empty space is nothing, nothing cannot be thought, and
therefore cannot exist. What is, never came into being, nor is anything
going to come into being in the future. “Is it or is it not?” If it is,
then it is now, all at once.

That Parmenides was really denying the existence of empty space was
quite well known to Plato. He says that Parmenides held “all things were
one, and that the one remains at rest in itself, _having no place in
which to move_.”[452] Aristotle is no less clear. In the _de Caelo_ he
lays it down that Parmenides was driven to take up the position that the
One was immovable just because no one had yet imagined that there was
any reality other than sensible reality.[453]

Footnote 452:

  Plato, _Tht._ 180 e 3, ὡς ἕν τε πάντα ἐστὶ καὶ ἕστηκεν αὐτὸ ἐν αὐτῷ
  οὐκ ἔχον χώραν ἐν ᾗ κινεῖται.

Footnote 453:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Γ, 1. 298 b 21, quoted above, p. 203, _n._ 449.

That which is, is; and it cannot be more or less. There is, therefore,
as much of it in one place as in another, and the world is a continuous,
indivisible _plenum_. From this it follows at once that it must be
immovable. If it moved, it must move into an empty space, and there is
no empty space. It is hemmed in by _what is_, by the real, on every
side. For the same reason, it must be finite, and can have nothing
beyond it. It is complete in itself, and has no need to stretch out
indefinitely into an empty space that does not exist. Hence, too, it is
spherical. It is equally real in every direction, and the sphere is the
only form which meets this condition. Any other would _be_ in one
direction more than in another. And this sphere cannot even move round
its own axis; for there is nothing outside of it with reference to which
it could be said to move.

[Sidenote: Parmenides the father of materialism.]

89. To sum up. What _is_, is a finite, spherical, motionless corporeal
_plenum_, and there is nothing beyond it. The appearances of
multiplicity and motion, empty space and time, are illusions. We see
from this that the primary substance of which the early cosmologists
were in search has now become a sort of “thing in itself.” It never
quite lost this character again. What appears later as the elements of
Empedokles, the so-called “homoeomeries” of Anaxagoras and the atoms of
Leukippos and Demokritos, is just the Parmenidean “being.” Parmenides is
not, as some have said, the “father of idealism”; on the contrary, all
materialism depends on his view of reality.

[Sidenote: The beliefs of “mortals.”]

90. It is commonly said that, in the Second Part of his poem, Parmenides
offered a dualistic theory of the origin of things as his own
conjectural explanation of the sensible world, or that, as Gomperz says,
“What he offered were the Opinions of Mortals; and this description did
not merely cover other people’s opinions. It included his own as well,
as far as they were not confined to the unassailable ground of an
apparent philosophical necessity.”[454] Now it is true that in one place
Aristotle appears to countenance a view of this sort, but nevertheless
it is an anachronism.[455] Nor is it really Aristotle’s view. He was
perfectly well aware that Parmenides did not admit the existence of
“not-being” in any degree whatever; but it was a natural way speaking to
call the cosmology of the Second Part of the poem that of Parmenides.
His hearers would understand at once in what sense this was meant. At
any rate, the Peripatetic tradition was that Parmenides, in the Second
Part of the poem, meant to give the belief of “the many.” This is how
Theophrastos put the matter, and Alexander seems to have spoken of the
cosmology as something which Parmenides himself regarded as wholly
false.[456] The other view comes from the Neoplatonists, and especially
Simplicius, who very naturally regarded the Way of Truth as an account
of the intelligible world, and the Way of Opinion as a description of
the sensible. It need hardly be said that this is almost as great an
anachronism as the Kantian parallelism suggested by Gomperz.[457]
Parmenides himself tells us in the most unequivocal language that there
is no truth at all in the theory which he expounds, and he gives it
merely as the belief of “mortals.” It was this that led Theophrastos to
speak of it as the opinion of “the many.”

Footnote 454:

  _Greek Thinkers_, pp. 180 sqq.

Footnote 455:

  _Met._ Α, 5. 986 b 31 (R. P. 121 a). Aristotle’s way of putting the
  matter is due to his interpretation of fr. 8, 54, which he took to
  mean that one of the two “forms” was to be identified with τὸ ὄν and
  the other with τὸ μὴ ὄν. Cf. _Gen. Corr._ Α, 3. 318 b 6, ὥσπερ
  Παρμενίδης λέγει δύο, τὸ ὂν καὶ τὸ μὴ ὂν εἶναι φάσκων. This last
  sentence shows clearly that when Aristotle says Παρμενίδης, he means
  what we should call “Parmenides.” He cannot have supposed that
  Parmenides admitted the being of τὸ μὴ ὄν in any sense whatever (cf.
  Plato, _Soph._ 241 d 5).

Footnote 456:

  Theophr. _Phys. Op._ fr. 6 (_Dox._ p. 482; R. P. 121 a), κατὰ δόξαν δὲ
  τῶν πολλῶν εἰς τὸ γένεσιν ἀποδοῦναι τῶν φαινομένων δύο ποιῶν τὰς
  ἀρχάς. For Alexander cf. Simpl. _Phys._ p. 38, 24.

Footnote 457:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 39, 10 (R. P. 121 b). Gomperz, _Greek Thinkers_, p.
  180. E. Meyer says (_Gesch. des Alterth._ iv. § 510, _Anm._): “How too
  can we think that a teacher of wisdom taught his disciples nothing as
  to the way in which they must take the existing sensible world, even
  if only as a deception?” This implies (1) that the distinction between
  Appearance and Reality had been clearly grasped; and (2) that a
  certain hypothetical and relative truth was allowed to Appearance.
  These are palpable anachronisms. Both views are Platonic, and they
  were not held even by Plato in his earlier writings.

His explanation however, though preferable to that of Simplicius, is not
convincing either. “The many” are as far as possible from believing in
an elaborate dualism such as Parmenides expounded, and it is a highly
artificial hypothesis to assume that he wished to show how the popular
view of the world could best be systematised. “The many” would hardly be
convinced of their error by having their beliefs presented to them in a
form which they would certainly fail to recognise. This, indeed, seems
the most incredible interpretation of all. It still, however, finds
adherents, so it is necessary to point out that the beliefs in question
are called “the opinions of mortals” simply because the speaker is a
goddess. Further, we have to note that Parmenides forbids two ways of
research, and we have seen that the second of these, which is also
expressly ascribed to “mortals,” must be the system of Herakleitos. We
should surely expect, then, to find that the other way too is the system
of some contemporary school, and it seems hard to discover any of
sufficient importance except the Pythagorean. Now it is admitted by
every one that there are Pythagorean ideas in the Second Part of the
poem, and it is therefore to be presumed, in the absence of evidence to
the contrary, that the whole system comes from the same source. It does
not appear that Parmenides said any more about Herakleitos than the
words to which we have just referred, in which he forbids the second way
of inquiry. He implies, indeed, that there are really only two ways that
can be thought of, and that the attempt of Herakleitos to combine them
was futile.[458] In any case, the Pythagoreans were far more serious
opponents at that date in Italy, and it is certainly to them that we
should expect Parmenides to define his attitude.

Footnote 458:

  Cf. frs. 4 and 6, especially the words αἵπερ ὁδοὶ μοῦναι διζήσιός εἰσι
  νοῆσαι. The third way, that of Herakleitos, is only added as an
  afterthought—αὐτὰρ ἔπειτ’ ἀπὸ τῆς κ.τ.λ.

It is still not quite clear, however, why he should have thought it
worth while to put into hexameters a view which he believed to be false.
Here it becomes important to remember that he had been a Pythagorean
himself, and that the poem is a renunciation of his former beliefs. In
such cases men commonly feel the necessity of showing where their old
views were wrong. The goddess tells him that he must learn of those
beliefs also “how men ought to have judged that the things which seem to
them really are.”[459] That is clear so far; but it does not explain the
matter fully. We get a further hint in another place. He is to learn
these beliefs “in order that no opinion of mortals may ever get the
better of him” (fr. 8, 61). If we remember that the Pythagorean system
at this time was handed down by oral tradition alone, we shall perhaps
see what this means. Parmenides was founding a dissident school, and it
was quite necessary for him to instruct his disciples in the system they
might be called upon to oppose. In any case, they could not reject it
intelligently without a knowledge of it, and this Parmenides had to
supply himself.[460]

Footnote 459:

  I read χρῆν δοκιμῶσ’ εἶναι in fr. 1, 32 with Diels, but I do not feel
  able to accept his rendering _wie man bei gründlicher Durchforschung
  annehmen müsste, dass sich jenes Scheinwesen verhalte_. We must, I
  think, take χρῆν δοκιμῶσαι (_i.e._ δοκιμάσαι) quite strictly, and χρῆν
  with the infinitive means “ought to have.” The most natural subject
  for the infinitive in that case is βροτούς, while εἶναι will be
  dependent on δοκιμῶσαι, and have τὰ δοκοῦντα for its subject. This way
  of taking the words is confirmed by fr. 8, 54, τῶν μίαν οὐ χρεών
  ἐστιν, if taken as I have taken it with Zeller. See above, p. 201,
  _n._ 445.

Footnote 460:

  The view that the opinions contained in the Second Part are those of
  others, and are not given as true in any sense whatsoever, is that of
  Diels. The objections of Wilamowitz (_Hermes_, xxxiv. pp. 203 sqq.) do
  not appear to me cogent. If we interpret him rightly, Parmenides never
  says that “this hypothetical explanation is ... better than that of
  any one else” (E. Meyer, iv. § 510, _Anm._). What he does say is that
  it is untrue altogether. It seems to me, however, that Diels has
  weakened his case by refusing to identify the theory here expounded
  with Pythagoreanism, and referring it mainly to Herakleitos.
  Herakleitos was emphatically _not_ a dualist, and I cannot see that to
  represent him as one is even what Diels calls a “caricature” of his
  theory. Caricatures must have some point of likeness. It is still more
  surprising to me that Patin, who makes ἓν πάντα εἶναι the corner-stone
  of Herakleiteanism, should adopt this view (_Parmenides im Kampfe
  gegen Heraklit_, 1899). E. Meyer (_loc. cit._) seems to think that the
  fact of Zeno’s having modified the δόξα of Parmenides in an
  Empedoklean sense (Diog. ix. 29; R. P. 140) proves that it was
  supposed to have some sort of truth. On the contrary, it would only
  show, if true, that Zeno had other opponents to face than Parmenides
  had.

[Sidenote: The dualist cosmology.]

91. The view that the Second Part of the poem of Parmenides was a sketch
of contemporary Pythagorean cosmology is, doubtless, incapable of
rigorous demonstration, but it can, I think, be made extremely probable.
The entire history of Pythagoreanism up to the end of the fifth century
B.C. is certainly conjectural; but, if we find in Parmenides ideas which
are wholly unconnected with his own view of the world, and if we find
precisely the same ideas in later Pythagoreanism, the most natural
inference will surely be that the later Pythagoreans derived these views
from their predecessors, and that they formed part of the original
stock-in-trade of the society to which they belonged. This will only be
confirmed if we find that they are developments of certain features in
the old Ionian cosmology. Pythagoras came from Samos, which always stood
in the closest relations with Miletos; and it was not, so far as we can
see, in his cosmological views that he chiefly displayed his
originality. It has been pointed out above (§ 53) that the idea of the
world breathing came from Anaximenes, and we need not be surprised to
find traces of Anaximander as well. Now, if we were confined to what
Aristotle tells us on this subject, it would be almost impossible to
make out a case; but his statements require, as usual, to be examined
with a certain amount of care. He says, first of all, that the two
elements of Parmenides were the Warm and the Cold.[461] In this he is so
far justified by the fragments that, since the Fire of which Parmenides
speaks is, of course, warm, the other “form,” which has all the opposite
qualities, must of necessity be cold. But, nevertheless, the habitual
use of the terms “_the_ warm” and “_the_ cold” is an accommodation to
Aristotle’s own system. In Parmenides himself they were simply one pair
of attributes amongst others.

Footnote 461:

  _Met._ Α, 5. 986 b 34, θερμὸν καὶ ψυχρόν; _Phys._ Α, 5. 188 a 20;
  _Gen. Corr._ Α, 3. 318 b 6; Β, 3. 330 b 14.

Still more misleading is Aristotle’s identification of these with Fire
and Earth. It is not quite certain that he meant to say Parmenides
himself made this identification; but, on the whole, it is most likely
that he did, and Theophrastos certainly followed him in this.[462] It is
another question whether it is accurate. Simplicius, who had the poem
before him (§ 85), after mentioning Fire and Earth, at once adds “or
rather Light and Darkness”;[463] and this is suggestive enough. Lastly,
Aristotle’s identification of the dense element with “what is not,”[464]
the unreal of the First Part of the poem, is not very easy to reconcile
with the view that it is earth. On the other hand, if we suppose that
the second of the two “forms,” the one which should not have been
“named,” is the Pythagorean Air or Void, we get a very good explanation
of Aristotle’s identification of it with “what is not.” We seem, then,
to be justified in neglecting the identification of the dense element
with earth for the present. At a later stage, we shall be able to see
how it may have originated.[465] The further statement of Theophrastos,
that the Warm was the efficient cause and the Cold the material or
passive,[466] is intelligible enough if we identify them with the Limit
and the Unlimited respectively; but is not, of course, to be regarded as
historical.

Footnote 462:

  _Phys._ Α, 5. 188 a 21, ταῦτα δὲ (θερμὸν καὶ ψυχρὸν) προσαγορεύει πῦρ
  καὶ γῆν; _Met._ Α, 5. 986 b 34, οἷον πῦρ καὶ γῆν λέγων. Cf. Theophr.
  _Phys. Op._ fr. 6 (_Dox._ p. 482; R. P. 121 a). [Plut.] _Strom._ fr. 5
  (_Dox._ p. 581), λέγει δὲ τῆν γῆν τοῦ πυκνοῦ καταρρυέντος ἀέρος
  γεγονέναι. Zeller, p. 568, n. 1 (Eng. trans. p. 593, n. 2).

Footnote 463:

  _Phys._ p. 25, 15, ὡς Παρμενίδης ἐν τοῖς πρὸς δόξαν πῦρ καὶ γῆν (ἢ
  μᾶλλον φῶς καὶ σκότος).

Footnote 464:

  _Met._ Α, 5. 986 b 35, τούτων δὲ κατὰ μὲν τὸ ὂν τὸ θερμὸν τάττει,
  θάτερον δὲ κατὰ τὸ μὴ ὄν. See above, p. 208, _n._ 457.

Footnote 465:

  See below, Chap. VII. § 147.

Footnote 466:

  Theophr. _Phys. Op._ fr. 6 (_Dox._ p. 482; R. P. 121 a), followed by
  the doxographers.

We have seen that Simplicius, with the poem of Parmenides before him,
corrects Aristotle by substituting Light and Darkness for Fire and
Earth, and in this he is amply borne out by the fragments which he
quotes. Parmenides himself calls one “form” Light, Flame, and Fire, and
the other Night, and we have now to consider whether these can be
identified with the Pythagorean Limit and Unlimited. We have seen good
reason to believe (§ 58) that the idea of the world breathing belonged
to the earliest form of Pythagoreanism, and there can be no difficulty
in identifying this “boundless breath” with Darkness, which stands very
well for the Unlimited. “Air” or mist was always regarded as the dark
element.[467] And that which gives definiteness to the vague darkness is
certainly light or fire, and this may account for the prominence given
to that element by Hippasos.[468] We may probably conclude, then, that
the Pythagorean distinction between the Limit and the Unlimited, which
we shall have to consider later (Chap. VII.), made its first appearance
in this crude form. If, on the other hand, we identify darkness with the
Limit, and light with the Unlimited, as most critics do, we get into
insuperable difficulties.

Footnote 467:

  Note the identification of the dense element with “air” in [Plut.]
  _Strom._, quoted p. 213, _n._ 462; and for the identification of this
  “air” with “mist and darkness,” cf. Chap. I. § 27, and Chap. V. § 107.
  It is to be observed further that Plato puts this last identification
  into the mouth of a Pythagorean (_Tim._ 52 d).

Footnote 468:

  See above, p. 121.

[Sidenote: The heavenly bodies.]

92. We must now look at the general cosmical view expounded in the
Second Part of the poem. The fragments are scanty, and the doxographical
tradition hard to interpret; but enough remains to show that here, too,
we are on Pythagorean ground. All discussion of the subject must start
from the following important passage of Aetios:—

  Parmenides held that there were crowns crossing one another[469] and
  encircling one another, formed of the rare and the dense element
  respectively, and that between these there were other mixed crowns
  made up of light and darkness. That which surrounds them all was solid
  like a wall, and under it is a fiery crown. That which is in the
  middle of all the crowns is also solid, and surrounded in turn by a
  fiery circle. The central circle of the mixed crowns is the cause of
  movement and becoming to all the rest. He calls it “the goddess who
  directs their course,” “the Holder of Lots,” and “Necessity.” Aet. ii.
  7. 1 (R. P. 126).

Footnote 469:

  It seems most likely that ἐπαλλήλους here means “crossing one
  another,” as the Milky Way crosses the Zodiac. The term ἐπάλληλος is
  opposed to παράλληλος.

[Sidenote: The “crowns.”]

93. The first thing we have to observe is that it is quite unjustifiable
to regard these “crowns” as spheres. The word στέφαναι can mean “rims”
or “brims” or anything of that sort, but it seems incredible that it
should be used of spheres. It does not appear, either, that the solid
circle which surrounds all the crowns is to be regarded as spherical.
The expression “like a wall” would be highly inappropriate in that case.
We seem, then, to be face to face with something of the same kind as the
“wheels” of Anaximander, and it is obviously quite likely that
Pythagoras should have taken this theory from him. Nor is evidence
altogether lacking that the Pythagoreans did regard the heavenly bodies
in this way. In Plato’s Myth of Er, which is certainly Pythagorean in
its general character, we do not hear of spheres, but of the “lips” of
concentric whorls fitted into one another like a nest of boxes.[470]
Even in the _Timaeus_ there are no spheres, but bands or strips crossing
each other at an angle.[471] Lastly, in the Homeric _Hymn to Ares_,
which seems to have been composed under Pythagorean influence, the word
used for the orbit of the planet is ἄντυξ, which must mean “rim.”[472]

Footnote 470:

  _Rep._ x. 616 d 5, καθάπερ οἱ κάδοι οἱ εἰς ἀλλήλους ἁρμόττοντες; e 1,
  κύκλους ἄνωθεν τὰ χείλη φαίνοντας (σφονδύλους).

Footnote 471:

  _Tim._ 36 b 6, ταύτην οὖν τὴν σύστασιν πᾶσαν διπλῆν κατὰ μῆκος σχίσας,
  μέσην πρὸς μέσην ἐκατέραν ἀλλήλαις οἷον χεῖ (the letter Χ) προσβαλὼν
  κατέκαμψεν εἰς ἓν κύκλῳ.

Footnote 472:

  _Hymn to Ares_, 6:

                                πυραυγέα κύκλον ἑλίσσων
              αἰθέρος ἑπταπόροις ἐνὶ τείρεσιν, ἔνθα σε πῶλοι
              ζαφλεγέες τριτάτης ὑπὲρ ἄντυγος αἰὲν ἔχουσι.

  So, in allusion to an essentially Pythagorean view, Proclus says to
  the planet Venus (h. iv. 17):

             εἴτε καὶ ἑπτὰ κύκλων ὑπὲρ ἄντυγας αἰθέρα ναίεις.

The fact is, there is really no evidence that any one ever adopted the
theory of celestial spheres at all, till Aristotle turned the
geometrical construction which Eudoxos had set up as a hypothesis “to
save appearances” (σῴζειν τὰ φαινόμενα ) into real things.[473] From
that time forward we hear a great deal about spheres, and it was natural
that later writers should attribute them to the Pythagoreans; but there
is no occasion to do violence to the language of Parmenides by turning
his “crowns” into anything of the sort. At this date, spheres would not
have served to explain anything that could not be explained more simply
without them.

Footnote 473:

  On the concentric spheres of Eudoxos, see Dreyer, _Planetary Systems_,
  chap. iv. It is unfortunate that the account of Plato’s astronomy
  given in this work is wholly inadequate, owing to the writer’s
  excessive reliance on Boeckh, who was led by evidence now generally
  regarded as untrustworthy to attribute all the astronomy of the
  Academy to their predecessors, and especially to Philolaos.

We are next told that these “crowns” encircle one another or are folded
over one another, and that they are made of the rare and the dense
element. We also learn that between them are “mixed crowns” made up of
light and darkness. Now it is to be observed, in the first place, that
light and darkness are exactly the same thing as the rare and the dense,
and it looks as if there was some confusion here. It may be doubted
whether these statements are based on anything else than fr. 12, which
might certainly be interpreted to mean that between the crowns of fire
there were crowns of night with a portion of fire in them. That may be
right; but I think it is rather more natural to understand the passage
as saying that the narrower circles are surrounded by wider circles of
night, each with its portion of fire rushing in the midst of it. These
last words would then be a simple repetition of the statement that the
narrower circles are filled with unmixed fire,[474] and we should have a
fairly exact reproduction of the planetary system of Anaximander. It is,
however, possible, though I think less likely, that Parmenides
represented the space between the circles as occupied by similar rings
in which the fire and darkness were mixed instead of having the fire
enclosed in the darkness.

Footnote 474:

  Such a repetition (παλινδρομία) is characteristic of all Greek style,
  but the repetition at the end of the period generally adds a new touch
  to the statement at the opening. The new touch is here given in the
  word ἵεται. I do not press this interpretation, but it seems to me
  much the simplest.

[Sidenote: The goddess.]

94. “In the middle of those,” says Parmenides, “is the goddess who
steers the course of all things.” Aetios, that is, Theophrastos,
explains this to mean in the middle of the mixed crowns, while
Simplicius declares that it means in the middle of all the crowns, that
is to say, in the centre of the world.[475] It is not very likely that
either of them had anything better to go upon than the words of
Parmenides just quoted, and these are ambiguous. Simplicius, as is clear
from the language he uses, identified this goddess with the Pythagorean
Hestia or central fire, while Theophrastos could not do this, because he
knew and stated that Parmenides held the earth to be round and in the
centre of the world.[476] In this very passage we are told that what is
in the middle of all the crowns is solid. The data furnished by
Theophrastos, in fact, exclude the identification of the goddess with
the central fire altogether. We cannot say that what is in the middle of
_all_ the crowns is solid, and that under it there is again a fiery
crown.[477] Nor does it seem fitting to relegate a goddess to the middle
of a solid spherical earth. We must try to find a place for her
elsewhere.

Footnote 475:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 34, 14 (R. P. 125 b).

Footnote 476:

  Diog. ix. 21 (R. P. 126 a).

Footnote 477:

  I do not discuss the interpretation of περὶ ὃ πάλιν πυρώδης which
  Diels gave in _Parmenides Lehrgedicht_, p. 104, and which is adopted
  in R. P. 162 a, as it is now virtually retracted. In the second
  edition of his _Vorsokratiker_ (p. 111) he reads καὶ τὸ μεσαίτατον
  πασῶν στερεόν, <ὑφ’ ᾧ> πάλιν πυρώδης [sc. στεφάνη]. That is a flat
  contradiction. It is of interest to observe that Mr. Adam also gets
  into the interior of the earth in his interpretation of the Myth of
  Er. It is instructive, too, because it shows that we are really
  dealing with the same order of ideas. The most heroic attempt to save
  the central fire for Pythagoras was my own hypothesis of an annular
  earth (1st ed. p. 203). This has met with well-deserved ridicule; but
  all the same it is the only possible solution on these lines. We shall
  see in Chap. VII. that the central fire belongs to the later
  development of Pythagoreanism.

We are further told by Aetios that this goddess was called Ananke and
the “Holder of Lots.”[478] We know already that she steers the course of
all things, that is, that she regulates the motions of the celestial
crowns. Simplicius adds, unfortunately without quoting the actual words,
that she sends souls at one time from the light to the unseen world, at
another from the unseen world to the light.[479] It would be difficult
to describe more exactly what the goddess does in the Myth of Er, and so
here once more we seem to be on Pythagorean ground. It is to be noticed
further that in fr. 10 we read how Ananke took the heavens and compelled
them to hold fast the fixed courses of the stars, and that in fr. 12 we
are told that she is the beginner of all pairing and birth. Lastly, in
fr. 13 we hear that she created Eros first of all the gods. Modern
parallels are dangerous, but it is not really going much beyond what is
written to say that this Eros is the Will to Live, which leads to
successive rebirths of the soul. So we shall find that in Empedokles it
is an ancient oracle or decree of Ananke that causes the gods to fall
and become incarnate in a cycle of births.[480]

Footnote 478:

  R. P. 126, where Fülleborn’s ingenious emendation κλῃδοῦχον for
  κληροῦχον is tacitly adopted. This is based upon the view that Aetios
  (or Theophrastos) was thinking of the goddess that keeps the keys in
  the Proem (fr. 1, 14). I now think that the κλῆροι of the Myth of Er
  are the true explanation of the name. Philo uses the term κληροῦχος
  θεός.

Footnote 479:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 39, 19, καὶ τὰς ψυχὰς πέμπειν ποτὲ μὲν ἐκ τοῦ
  ἐμφανοῦς εἰς τὸ ἀειδές (_i.e._ ἀιδές), ποτὲ δὲ ἀνάπαλίν φησιν. We
  should probably connect this with the statement of Diog. ix. 22 (R. P.
  127) that men arose from the sun (reading ἡλίου with the MSS. for the
  conjecture ἰλύος in the Basel edition).

Footnote 480:

  Empedokles, fr. 115.

We should, then, be more certain of the place which this goddess
occupies in the universe if we could be quite sure where Ananke is in
the Myth of Er. Without, however, raising that vexed question, we may
lay down with some confidence that, according to Theophrastos, she
occupied a position midway between the earth and the heavens. Whether we
believe in the “mixed crowns” or not makes no difference in this
respect; for the statement of Aetios that she was in the middle of the
mixed crowns undoubtedly implies that she was in that region. Now she is
identified with one of the crowns in a somewhat confused passage of
Cicero,[481] and we have seen above (p. 69) that the whole theory of
wheels or crowns was probably suggested by the Milky Way. It seems to
me, therefore, that we must think of the Milky Way as a crown
intermediate between the crowns of the Sun and the Moon, and this agrees
very well with the prominent way in which it is mentioned in fr. 11. It
is better not to be too positive about the other details of the system,
though it is interesting to notice that according to some it was
Pythagoras, and according to others Parmenides, who discovered the
identity of the evening and morning star. That fits in exactly with our
general view.[482]

Footnote 481:

  Cicero, _de nat. D._ i. 11, 28: “Nam Parmenides quidem commenticium
  quiddam coronae simile efficit (στεφάνην appellat), continente ardore
  lucis orbem, qui cingat caelum, quem appellat deum.” We may connect
  with this the statement of Aetios, ii. 20, 8, τὸν ἥλιον καὶ τὴν
  σελήνην ἐκ τοῦ γαλαξίου κύκλου ἀποκριθῆναι.

Footnote 482:

  Diog. ix. 23, καὶ δοκεῖ (Παρμενίδης) πρῶτος πεφωρακέναι τὸν αὐτὸν
  εἶναι Ἕσπερον καὶ Φωσφόρον, ὥς φησι Φαβωρῖνος ἐν πέμπτῳ
  Ἀπομνημονευμάτων· οἱ δὲ Πυθαγόραν. If, as Achilles says, the poet
  Ibykos of Rhegion had anticipated Parmenides in announcing this
  discovery, that is to be explained by the fact that Rhegion had become
  the chief seat of the Pythagorean school.

Besides all this, it is quite certain that Parmenides went on to
describe how the other gods were born and how they fell, an idea which
we know to be Orphic, and which may well have been Pythagorean. We shall
come to it again in Empedokles. In Plato’s _Symposium_, Agathon couples
Parmenides with Hesiod as a narrator of ancient deeds of violence
committed by the gods.[483] If Parmenides was expounding the Pythagorean
theology, all this is just what we should expect; but it seems hopeless
to explain it on any of the other theories which have been advanced on
the purpose of the Way of Belief. Such things do not follow naturally
from the ordinary view of the world, and we have no reason to suppose
that Herakleitos expounded his views of the upward and downward path of
the soul in this form. He certainly did hold that the guardian spirits
entered into human bodies; but the whole point of his theory was that he
gave a naturalistic rather than a theological account of the process.
Still less can we think it probable that Parmenides made up these
stories himself in order to show what the popular view of the world
really implied if properly formulated. We must ask, I think, that any
theory on the subject shall account for what was evidently no
inconsiderable portion of the poem.

Footnote 483:

  Plato, _Symp._ 195 c 1. It is implied that these παλαιὰ πράγματα were
  πολλὰ καὶ βίαια, including such things as ἐκτομαί and δεσμοί. The
  Epicurean criticism of all this is partially preserved in Philodemos,
  _de pietate_, p. 68, Gomperz; and Cicero, _de nat. D._ i. 28 (_Dox._
  p. 534; R. P. 126 b).

[Sidenote: Physiology.]

95. In describing the views of his contemporaries, Parmenides was
obliged, as we see from the fragments, to say a good deal about
physiological matters. Like everything else, man was composed of the
warm and the cold, and death was caused by the removal of the warm. Some
curious views with regard to generation were also stated. In the first
place, males came from the right side and females from the left. Women
had more of the warm and men of the cold, a view which we shall find
Empedokles contradicting.[484] It is just the proportion of the warm and
cold in men that determines the character of their thought, so that even
corpses, from which the warm has been removed, retain a perception of
what is cold and dark.[485] These fragments of information do not tell
us much when taken by themselves; but they connect themselves in a most
interesting way with the history of medicine, and point to the fact that
one of its leading schools stood in close relation with the Pythagorean
Society. Even before the days of Pythagoras, we know that Kroton was
famous for its doctors. A Krotoniate, Demokedes, was court physician to
the Persian king, and married Milo the Pythagorean’s daughter.[486] We
also know the name of a very distinguished medical writer who lived at
Kroton in the days between Pythagoras and Parmenides, and the few facts
we are told about him enable us to regard the physiological views
described by Parmenides not as isolated curiosities, but as landmarks by
means of which we can trace the origin and growth of one of the most
influential of medical theories, that which explains health as a balance
of opposites.

Footnote 484:

  For all this, see R. P. 127 a, with Arist. _de Part. An._ Β, 2. 648 a
  28; _de Gen. An._ Δ, 1. 765 b 19.

Footnote 485:

  Theophr. _de sens._ 3, 4 (R. P. 129).

Footnote 486:

  Herod. iii. 131, 137.

[Sidenote: Alkmaion of Kroton.]

96. Aristotle tells us that Alkmaion of Kroton[487] was a young man in
the old age of Pythagoras. He does not actually say, as later writers
do, that he was a Pythagorean, though he points out that he seems either
to have derived his theory of opposites from the Pythagoreans or they
theirs from him.[488] In any case, he was intimately connected with the
society, as is proved by one of the scanty fragments of his book. It
began as follows: “Alkmaion of Kroton, son of Peirithous, spoke these
words to Brotinos and Leon and Bathyllos. As to things invisible and
things mortal, the gods have certainty; but, so far as men may infer
...”[489] The quotation unfortunately ends in this abrupt way, but we
learn two things from it. In the first place, Alkmaion possessed that
reserve which marks all the best Greek medical writers; and in the
second place, he dedicated his work to the heads of the Pythagorean
Society.[490]

Footnote 487:

  On Alkmaion, see especially Wachtler, _De Alcmaeone Crotoniata_
  (Leipzig, 1896).

Footnote 488:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 5. 986 a 27 (R. P. 66). In a 30 Diels reads, with
  great probability, ἐγένετο τὴν ἡλικίαν <νέος> ἐπὶ γέροντι Πυθαγόρᾳ.
  Cf. Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 104, where Alkmaion is mentioned among the
  συγχρονίσαντες καὶ μαθητεύσαντες τῷ Πυθαγόρᾳ πρεσβύτῃ νέοι.

Footnote 489:

  Ἀλκμαίων Κρωτωνιήτης τάδε ἔλεξε Πειρίθου υἱὸς Βροτίνῳ καὶ Λέοντι καὶ
  Βαθύλλῳ· περὶ τῶν ἀφανέων, περὶ τῶν θνητῶν, σαφήνειαν μὲν θεοὶ ἔχοντι,
  ὡς δὲ ἀνθρώποις τεκμαίρεσθαι καὶ τὰ ἑξῆς. The fact that this is not
  written in conventional Doric, like the forged Pythagorean books, is a
  strong proof of genuineness.

Footnote 490:

  Brotinos (not Brontinos) is variously described as the son-in-law or
  father-in-law of Pythagoras. Leon is one of the Metapontines in the
  catalogue of Iamblichos (Diels, _Vors._ p. 268), and Bathyllos is
  presumably the Poseidoniate Bathylaos also mentioned there.

Alkmaion’s chief importance in the history of philosophy really lies in
the fact that he is the founder of empirical psychology.[491] It is
certain that he regarded the brain as the common sensorium, an important
discovery which Hippokrates and Plato adopted from him, though
Empedokles, Aristotle, and the Stoics reverted to the more primitive
view that the heart performs this function. There is no reason to doubt
that he made this discovery by anatomical means. We have some authority
for saying that he practised dissection, and, though the nerves were not
yet recognised as such, it was known that there were certain “passages”
which might be prevented from communicating sensations to the brain by
lesions.[492] He also distinguished between sensation and understanding,
though we have no means of knowing exactly where he drew the line
between them. His theories of the special senses are of great interest.
We find in him already, what is characteristic of Greek theories of
vision as a whole, the attempt to combine the view of vision as an act
proceeding from the eye with that which attributes it to an image
reflected in the eye. He knew the importance of air for the sense of
hearing, though he called it the void, a thoroughly Pythagorean touch.
With regard to the other senses, our information is more scanty, but
sufficient to show that he treated the subject systematically.[493]

Footnote 491:

  Everything bearing on the early history of this subject is brought
  together and discussed in Prof. Beare’s _Greek Theories of Elementary
  Cognition_, to which I must refer the reader for all details.

Footnote 492:

  Theophr. _de sens._ 26 (Beare, p. 252, n. 1). Our authority for the
  dissections of Alkmaion is only Chalcidius, but he gets his
  information on such matters from far older sources. The πόροι and the
  inference from lesions are vouched for by Theophrastos.

Footnote 493:

  The details will be found in Beare, pp. 11 sqq. (vision), pp. 93 sqq.
  (hearing), pp. 131 sqq. (smell), pp. 180 sqq. (touch), pp. 160 sqq.
  (taste).

His astronomy seems surprisingly crude for one who stood in close
relations with the Pythagoreans. We are told that he adopted Anaximenes’
theory of the sun and Herakleitos’s explanation of eclipses.[494] It is
all the more remarkable that he is credited with originating the idea,
which it required all Plato’s authority to get accepted later, that the
planets have an orbital motion in the opposite direction to the diurnal
revolution of the heavens.[495] This, if true, probably stood in close
connexion with his saying that soul was immortal because it resembled
immortal things, and was always in motion like the heavenly bodies.[496]
He seems, in fact, to be the real author of the curious view which Plato
put into the mouth of the Pythagorean Timaios, that the soul has circles
revolving just as the heavens and the planets do. This too seems to be
the explanation of his further statement that man dies because he cannot
join the beginning to the end.[497] The orbits of the heavenly bodies
always come full circle, but the circles in the head may fail to
complete themselves. This new version of the parallelism between the
microcosm and the macrocosm would be perfectly natural for Alkmaion,
though it is, of course, no more than a playful fancy to Plato.

Footnote 494:

  Aet. ii. 22, 4, πλατὺν εἶναι τὸν ἥλιον; 29, 3, κατὰ τὴν τοῦ
  σκαφοειδοῦς στροφὴν καὶ τὰς περικλίσεις (ἐκλείπειν τὴν σελήνην).

Footnote 495:

  Aet. ii. 16, 2, (τῶν μαθηματικῶν τινες) τοὺς πλανήτας τοῖς ἀπλάνεσιν
  ἀπὸ δυσμῶν ἐπ’ ἀνατολὰς ἀντιφέρεσθαι. τούτῳ δὲ συνομολογεῖ καὶ
  Ἀλκμαίων.

Footnote 496:

  Arist. _de An._ Α, 2. 405 a 30 (R. P. 66 c).

Footnote 497:

  Arist. _Probl._ 17, 3. 916 a 33, τοὺς ἀνθρώπους φησὶν Ἀλκμαίων διὰ
  τοῦτο ἀπόλλυσθαι, ὅτι οὐ δύνανται τὴν ἀρχὴν τῷ τέλει προσάψαι.

Alkmaion’s theory of health as “isonomy” is at once that which most
clearly connects him with earlier inquirers like Anaximander, and also
that which had the greatest influence on the subsequent development of
philosophy. He observed, to begin with, that “most things human were
two,” and by this he meant that man was made up of the hot and the cold,
the moist and the dry, and the rest of the opposites.[498] Disease was
just the “monarchy” of any one of these—the same thing that Anaximander
had called “injustice”—while health was the establishment in the body of
a free government with equal laws.[499] This was the leading doctrine of
the Sicilian school of medicine which came into existence not long
after, and we shall have to consider in the sequel its influence on the
development of Pythagoreanism. Taken along with the theory of
“pores,”[500] it is of the greatest importance for later science.

Footnote 498:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 5. 986 a 27 (R. P. 66).

Footnote 499:

  Aet. v. 30, 1, Ἀλκμαίων τῆς μὲν ὑγιείας εἶναι συνεκτικὴν τὴν ἰσονομίαν
  τῶν δυνάμεων, ὑγροῦ, ξηροῦ, ψυχροῦ, θερμοῦ, πικροῦ, γλυκέος, καὶ τῶν
  λοιπῶν, τὴν δ’ ἐν αὐτοῖς μοναρχίαν νόσου ποιητικήν· φθοροποιὸν γὰρ
  ἐκατέρου μοναρχίαν.

Footnote 500:

  My colleague, Dr. Fraser Harris, points out to me that Alkmaion’s
  πόροι may have been a better guess than he knew. The nerve-fibres,
  when magnified 1000 diameters, “sometimes appear to have a clear
  centre, as if the fibrils were tubular.”—Schäfer, _Essentials of
  Physiology_ (7th edition), p. 132.




                               CHAPTER V
                         EMPEDOKLES OF AKRAGAS


[Sidenote: Pluralism.]

97. The belief that all things are one was common to the philosophers we
have hitherto studied; but now Parmenides has shown that, if this one
thing really _is_, we must give up the idea that it can take different
forms. The senses, which present to us a world of change and
multiplicity, are deceitful. From this there was no escape; the time was
still to come when men would seek the unity of the world in something
which, from its very nature, the senses could never perceive.

We find, accordingly, that from the time of Parmenides to that of Plato,
all thinkers in whose hands philosophy made real progress abandoned the
monistic hypothesis. Those who still held by it adopted a critical
attitude, and confined themselves to a defence of the theory of
Parmenides against the new views. Others taught the doctrine of
Herakleitos in an exaggerated form; some continued to expound the
systems of the early Milesians. This, of course, showed want of insight;
but even those thinkers who saw that Parmenides could not be left
unanswered, were by no means equal to their predecessors in power and
thoroughness. The corporealist hypothesis had proved itself unable to
bear the weight of a monistic structure; but a thorough-going pluralism
such as the atomic theory might have some value, if not as a final
explanation of the world, yet at least as an intelligible view of a part
of it. Any pluralism, on the other hand, which, like that of Empedokles
and Anaxagoras, stops short of the atoms, will achieve no permanent
result, however many may be the brilliant _aperçus_ which it embodies.
It will remain an attempt to reconcile two things that cannot be
reconciled, and may always, therefore, be developed into contradictions
and paradoxes.

[Sidenote: Date of Empedokles.]

98. Empedokles was a citizen of Akragas in Sicily, and his father’s
name, according to the best accounts, was Meton.[501] His grandfather,
also called Empedokles, had won a victory in the horse-race at Olympia
in Ol. LXXI. (496-95 B.C.),[502] and Apollodoros fixed the _floruit_ of
Empedokles himself in Ol. LXXXIV. 1 (444-43 B.C.). This is the date of
the foundation of Thourioi; and it appears from the quotation in
Diogenes that the almost contemporary biographer, Glaukos of
Rhegion,[503] said Empedokles visited the new city shortly after its
foundation. But we are in no way bound to believe that he was just forty
years old at the time of the event in his life which can most easily be
dated. That is the assumption made by Apollodoros; but there are reasons
for thinking that his date is too late by some eight or ten years.[504]
It is, indeed, most likely that Empedokles did not go to Thourioi till
after his banishment from Akragas, and he may well have been more than
forty years old when that happened. All, therefore, we can be said to
know of his date is, that his grandfather was still alive in 496 B.C.;
that he himself was active at Akragas after 472, the date of Theron’s
death; and that he died later than 444.

Footnote 501:

  Aet. i. 3, 20 (R. P. 164), Apollodoros _ap._ Diog. viii. 52 (R. P.
  162). The details of the life of Empedokles are discussed, with a
  careful criticism of the sources, by Bidez, _La biographie
  d’Empédocle_ (Gand, 1894).

Footnote 502:

  For this we have the authority of Apollodoros (Diog. viii. 51, 52; R.
  P. 162), who follows the _Olympic Victors_ of Eratosthenes, who in
  turn appealed to Aristotle. Herakleides of Pontos, in his Περὶ νόσων
  (see below, p. 233, _n._ 520), spoke of the elder Empedokles as a
  “breeder of horses” (R. P. 162 a); and Timaios mentioned him as a
  distinguished man in his Fifteenth Book.

Footnote 503:

  Glaukos wrote Περὶ τῶν ἀρχαίων ποιητῶν καὶ μουσικῶν, and is said to
  have been contemporary with Demokritos (Diog. ix. 38). Apollodoros
  adds (R. P. 162) that, according to Aristotle and Herakleides,
  Empedokles died at the age of sixty. It is to be observed, however,
  that the words ἔτι δ’ Ἡρακλείδης are Sturz’s conjecture, the MSS.
  having ἔτι δ’ Ἡράκλειτον, and Diogenes certainly said (ix. 3) that
  Herakleitos lived sixty years. On the other hand, if the statement of
  Aristotle comes from the Περὶ ποιητῶν, it is not obvious why he should
  mention Herakleitos at all; and Herakleides was one of the chief
  sources for the biography of Empedokles.

Footnote 504:

  See Diels, “Empedokles und Gorgias,” 2 (_Berl. Sitzb._, 1884).
  Theophrastos said that Empedokles was born “not long after Anaxagoras”
  (_Dox._ p. 477, 17); and Alkidamas made him the fellow-pupil of Zeno
  under Parmenides, and the teacher of Gorgias (see below, p. 231, n.
  5). Now Gorgias was a little older than Antiphon (_b._ Ol. LXX.), so
  it is clear we must go back _at least_ to 490 B.C. for the birth of
  Empedokles.

Even these indications are enough to show that he must have been a boy
in the reign of Theron, the tyrant who co-operated with Gelon of
Syracuse in the repulse of the Carthaginians from Himera. His son and
successor, Thrasydaios, was a man of another stamp. Before his accession
to the throne of Akragas, he had ruled in his father’s name at Himera,
and completely estranged the affections of its inhabitants. Theron died
in 472 B.C., and Thrasydaios at once displayed all the vices and follies
usual in the second holder of a usurped dominion. After a disastrous war
with Hieron of Syracuse, he was driven out; and Akragas enjoyed a free
government till it fell before the Carthaginians more than half a
century later.[505]

Footnote 505:

  E. Meyer, _Gesch. des Alterth._ ii. p. 508.

[Sidenote: Empedokles as a politician.]

99. In the political events of the next few years, Empedokles certainly
played an important part; but our information on the subject is of a
very curious kind. The Sicilian historian Timaios told one or two
stories about him, which are obviously genuine traditions picked up
about a hundred and fifty years afterwards; but, like all popular
traditions, they are a little confused. The picturesque incidents are
remembered, but the essential parts of the story are dropped. Still, we
may be thankful that the “collector of old wives’ tales,”[506] as
sneering critics called him, has enabled us to measure the historical
importance of Empedokles for ourselves by showing us how he was pictured
by the great-grandchildren of his contemporaries.

Footnote 506:

  He is called γραοσυλλέκτρια in Souidas, _s.v._ The view taken in the
  text as to the value of his evidence is that of Holm.

We read, then,[507] that once he was invited to sup with one of the
“rulers.” Tradition delights in such vague titles. “Supper was well
advanced, but no wine was brought in. The rest of the company said
nothing, but Empedokles was righteously indignant, and insisted on wine
being served. The host, however, said he was waiting for the serjeant of
the Council. When that official arrived, he was appointed ruler of the
feast. The host, of course, appointed him. Thereupon he began to give
hints of an incipient tyranny. He ordered the company either to drink or
have the wine poured over their heads. At the time, Empedokles said
nothing; but next day he led both of them before the court, and had them
condemned and put to death—both the man who asked him to supper, and the
ruler of the feast.[508] This was the beginning of his political
career.” The next tale is that Empedokles prevented the Council from
granting his friend Akron a piece of land for a family sepulchre on the
ground of his eminence in medicine, and supported his objection by a
punning epigram.[509] Lastly, he broke up the assembly of the
Thousand—perhaps some oligarchical association or club.[510] It may have
been for this that he was offered the kingship, which Aristotle tells us
he refused.[511] At any rate, we see that Empedokles was the great
democratic leader at Akragas in those days, though we have no clear
knowledge of what he did.

Footnote 507:

  Timaios _ap._ Diog. viii. 64 (_F.H.G._ i. p. 214, fr. 88 a).

Footnote 508:

  In the first edition, I suggested the analogy of accusations for
  _incivisme_. Bidez says (p. 127), “J’imagine qu’un Jacobin aurait
  mieux jugé l’histoire” (than Karsten and Holm); “sous la Terreur, on
  était suspect pour de moindres vétilles.”

Footnote 509:

  Diog. viii. 65. The epigram runs thus:

              ἄκρον ἰητρὸν Ἄκρων’ Ἀκραγαντῖνον πατρὸς Ἄκρου
              κρύπτει κρημνὸς ἄκρος πατρίδος ἀκροτάτης.


  On Akron, see M. Wellmann, _op. cit._ p. 235, n. 1.

Footnote 510:

  Diog. viii. 66, ὕστερον δ’ ὁ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς καὶ τὸ τῶν χιλίων ἄθροισμα
  κατέλυσε συνεστὼς ἐπὶ ἔτη τρία. The word ἄθροισμα hardly suggests a
  legal council, and συνίστασθαι suggests a conspiracy.

Footnote 511:

  Diog. viii. 63. Aristotle probably mentioned this in his _Sophist._
  Cf. Diog. viii. 57.

[Sidenote: Empedokles as a religious teacher.]

100. But there is another side to his public character which Timaios
found it hard to reconcile with his political views. He claimed to be a
god, and to receive the homage of his fellow-citizens in that capacity.
The truth is, Empedokles was not a mere statesman; he had a good deal of
the “medicine-man” about him. According to Satyros,[512] Gorgias
affirmed that he had been present when his master was performing
sorceries. We can see what this means from the fragments of the
_Purifications_. Empedokles was a preacher of the new religion which
sought to secure release from the “wheel of birth” by purity and
abstinence; but it is not quite certain to which form of it he adhered.
On the one hand, Orphicism seems to have been strong at Akragas in the
days of Theron, and there are even some verbal coincidences between the
poems of Empedokles and the Orphicising Odes which Pindar addressed to
that prince.[513] There are also some points of similarity between the
_Rhapsodic Theogony_, as we know it from Damaskios, and certain
fragments of Empedokles, though the importance of these has been
exaggerated.[514] On the other hand, there is no reason to doubt the
statement of Ammonios that fr. 134 refers to Apollo;[515] and, if that
is so, it would point to his having been an adherent of the Ionic form
of the mystic doctrine, as we have seen (§ 39) that Pythagoras was.
Further, Timaios already knew the story that he had been expelled from
the Pythagorean Order for “stealing discourses,”[516] and it is probable
on the whole that fr. 129 refers to Pythagoras.[517] It would be very
hazardous to dogmatise on this subject; but it seems most likely that
Empedokles had been influenced by Orphic ideas in his youth, and that,
in later life, he preached a form of Pythagoreanism which was not
considered orthodox by the heads of the Society. In any case, it seems
far more probable that his political and scientific activity belong to
the same period of his life, and that he only became a wandering prophet
after his banishment, than that his scientific work belonged to his
later days when he was a solitary exile.[518]

Footnote 512:

  Diog. viii. 59 (R. P. 162). Satyros probably followed Alkidamas. Diels
  suggests (_Emp. u. Gorg._ p. 358) that the φυσικός of Alkidamas was a
  dialogue in which Gorgias was the chief speaker. In that case, the
  statement would have little historical value.

Footnote 513:

  See Bidez, p. 115, n. 1.

Footnote 514:

  O. Kern, “Empedokles und die Orphiker” (_Arch._ i. pp. 489 sqq.). For
  the _Rhapsodic Theogony_, see Introd. p. 9, _n._ 10.

Footnote 515:

  See below, note _in loc._

Footnote 516:

  Diog. viii. 54 (R. P. 162).

Footnote 517:

  See below, note _in loc._

Footnote 518:

  The latter view is that of Bidez (pp. 161 sqq.); but Diels has shown
  (_Berl. Sitzb._, 1898, pp. 406 sqq.) that the former is
  psychologically more probable.

We hear of a number of marvels performed by Empedokles, which are for
the most part nothing but inferences from his writings. Timaios told how
he weakened the force of the etesian winds by hanging bags of asses’
skins on the trees to catch them. He had certainly said, in his
exaggerated way, that the knowledge of science as taught by him would
enable his disciples to control the winds (fr. 111); and this, along
with the fabled windbags of Aiolos, is enough to account for the
tale.[519] We are also told how he brought back to life a woman who had
been breathless and pulseless for thirty days. The verse where he
asserts that his teaching will enable Pausanias to bring the dead back
from Hades (fr. 111) shows how this story may have arisen.[520] Again,
we hear that he sweetened the pestilent marsh between Selinous and the
sea by diverting the rivers Hypsas and Selinos into it. We know from
coins that this purification of the marshes actually took place, but we
may doubt whether it was attributed to Empedokles till a later
time.[521]

Footnote 519:

  I follow the wilder form of the story given by Diog. viii. 60, and not
  the rationalised version of Plutarch (_adv. Col._ 1126 b). The
  epithets ἀλεξανέμας and κωλυσανέμας were perhaps bestowed by some
  sillographer in mockery; cf. ἀνεμοκοίτης.

Footnote 520:

  The Περὶ νόσων of Herakleides, from which it is derived, seems to have
  been a sort of medico-philosophical romance. The words are (Diog.
  viii. 60): Ἡρακλείδης τε ἐν τῷ Περὶ νόσων φησὶ καὶ Παυσανίᾳ
  ὑφηγήσασθαι αὐτὸν τὰ περὶ τὴν ἄπνουν. It was a case of hysterical
  suffocation.

Footnote 521:

  For these coins see Head, _Historia Numorum_, pp. 147 sqq.

[Sidenote: Rhetoric and medicine.]

101. Aristotle said that Empedokles was the inventor of Rhetoric;[522]
and Galen made him the founder of the Italian school of Medicine, which
he puts on a level with those of Kos and Knidos.[523] Both these
statements must be considered in connexion with his political and
scientific activity. It seems to be certain that Gorgias was his
disciple in physics and medicine, and some of the peculiarities which
marked his style are to be found in the poems of Empedokles.[524] It is
not to be supposed, of course, that Empedokles wrote a formal treatise
on Rhetoric; but it is in every way probable, and in accordance with his
character, that the speeches, of which he must have made many, were
marked by that euphuism which Gorgias introduced to Athens at a later
date, and which gave rise to the idea of an artistic prose. The
influence of Empedokles on the development of medicine was, however, far
more important, as it affected not only medicine itself, but through it,
the whole tendency of scientific and philosophical thinking. It has been
said that Empedokles had no successors,[525] and the remark is true if
we confine ourselves strictly to philosophy. On the other hand, the
medical school which he founded was still living in the days of Plato,
and it had considerable influence on him, and still more on
Aristotle.[526] Its fundamental doctrine was the identification of the
four elements with the hot and the cold, the moist and the dry. It also
held that we breathe through all the pores of the body, and that the act
of respiration is closely connected with the motion of the blood. The
heart, not the brain, was regarded as the organ of consciousness.[527] A
more external characteristic of the medicine taught by the followers of
Empedokles is that they still clung to ideas of a magical nature. A
protest against this by a member of the Koan school has been preserved.
He refers to them as “magicians and purifiers and charlatans and quacks,
who profess to be very religious.”[528] Though there is some truth in
this, it hardly does justice to the great advances in physiology that
were due to the Sicilian school.

Footnote 522:

  Diog. viii. 57 (R. P. 162 g).

Footnote 523:

  Galen, x. 5, ἤριζον δ’ αὐτοῖς (the schools of Kos and Knidos) ... καὶ
  οἱ ἐκ τῆς Ἰταλίας ἰατροί, Φιλιστίων τε καὶ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς καὶ Παυσανίας
  καὶ οἱ τούτων ἑταῖροι κ.τ.λ. Philistion was the contemporary and
  friend of Plato; Pausanias is the disciple to whom Empedokles
  addressed his poem.

Footnote 524:

  See Diels, “Empedokles und Gorgias” (_Berl. Sitzb._, 1884, pp. 343
  sqq.). The oldest authority for saying that Gorgias was a disciple of
  Empedokles is Satyros _ap._ Diog. viii. 58 (R. P. 162); but he seems
  to have derived his information from Alkidamas, who was the disciple
  of Gorgias himself. In Plato’s _Meno_ (76 c 4-8) the Empedoklean
  theory of effluvia and pores is ascribed to Gorgias.

Footnote 525:

  Diels (_Berl. Sitzb._, 1884, p. 343).

Footnote 526:

  See M. Wellmann, _Fragmentsammlung der griechischen Ärtzte_, vol. i.
  (Berlin, 1901). According to Wellmann, both Plato (in the _Timaeus_)
  and Diokles of Karystos depend upon Philistion. It is impossible to
  understand the history of philosophy from this point onwards without
  keeping the history of medicine constantly in view.

Footnote 527:

  For the four elements, cf. Anon. Lond. xx. 25 (Menon’s _Iatrika_),
  Φιλιστίων δ’ οἴεται ἐκ δʹ ἰδεῶν συνεστάναι ἡμᾶς, τοῦτ’ ἔστιν ἐκ δʹ
  στοιχείων· πυρός, ἀέρος, ὕδατος, γῆς. εἶναι δὲ καὶ ἑκάστου δυνάμεις,
  τοῦ μὲν πυρὸς τὸ θερμόν, τοῦ δὲ ἀέρος τὸ ψυχρόν, τοῦ δὲ ὕδατος τὸ
  ὑγρόν, τῆς δὲ γῆς τὸ ξηρόν. For the theory of respiration, see
  Wellmann, pp. 82 sqq.; and for the heart as the seat of consciousness,
  _ib._ pp. 15 sqq.

Footnote 528:

  Hippokr. Περὶ ἰερῆς νόσου, c 1, μάγοι τε καὶ καθάρται καὶ ἀγύρται καὶ
  ἀλαζόνες. The whole passage should be read. Cf. Wellmann, p. 29 n.

[Sidenote: Relation to predecessors.]

102. In the biography of Empedokles, we hear very little of his theory
of nature. The only hints we get are some statements about his teachers.
Alkidamas, who had good opportunities of knowing, made him a
fellow-student of Zeno under Parmenides. That is both possible and
likely. Theophrastos too made him a follower and imitator of Parmenides.
But the further statement that he had “heard” Pythagoras cannot be
right. Probably Alkidamas said “Pythagoreans.”[529]

Footnote 529:

  Diog. viii. 54-56 (R. P. 162).

Some writers hold that certain parts of the system of Empedokles, in
particular the theory of pores and effluvia (§ 118), which do not seem
to follow very naturally from his own principles, were due to the
influence of Leukippos.[530] This, however, is not necessarily the case.
We know that Alkmaion (§ 96) spoke of “pores” in connexion with
sensation, and it may equally well be from him that Empedokles got the
theory. It may be added that this is more in accordance with the history
of certain other physiological views which are common to Alkmaion and
the later Ionian philosophers. We can generally see that those reached
Ionia through the medical school which Empedokles founded.[531]

Footnote 530:

  Diels, _Verhandl. d. 35 Philologenversamml._ pp. 104 sqq., Zeller, p.
  767. It would be fatal to the main thesis of the next few chapters if
  it could be proved that Empedokles was influenced by Leukippos. I hope
  to show that Leukippos was influenced by the later Pythagorean
  doctrine (Chap. IX. § 171), which was in turn affected by Empedokles
  (Chap. VII. § 147).

Footnote 531:

  For πόροι in Alkmaion, cf. Arist. _de Gen. An._ Β, 6. 744 a 8;
  Theophr. _de sens._ 26; and for the way in which his embryological and
  other views were transmitted through Empedokles to the Ionian
  physicists, cf. Fredrich, _Hippokratische Untersuchungen_, pp. 126
  sqq.

[Sidenote: Death.]

103. We are told that Empedokles leapt into the crater of Etna that he
might be deemed a god. This appears to be a malicious version[532] of a
tale set on foot by his adherents that he had been snatched up to heaven
in the night.[533] Both stories would easily get accepted; for there was
no local tradition. Empedokles did not die in Sicily, but in the
Peloponnese, or, perhaps, at Thourioi. He had gone to Olympia to have
his religious poem recited to the Hellenes; his enemies were able to
prevent his return, and he was seen in Sicily no more.[534]

Footnote 532:

  R. P. 162 h. The story is always told with a hostile purpose.

Footnote 533:

  R. P. _ib._ This was the story told by Herakleides of Pontos, at the
  end of his romance about the ἄπνους.

Footnote 534:

  Timaios took the trouble to refute the common stories at some length
  (Diog. viii. 71 sqq.; R. P. _ib._). He was quite positive that
  Empedokles never returned to Sicily. Nothing can be more likely than
  that, when wandering as an exile in the Peloponnese, he should have
  seized the opportunity of joining the colony at Thourioi, which was a
  harbour for many of the “sophists” of this time.

[Sidenote: Writings.]

104. Empedokles was the second philosopher to expound his system in
verse, if we leave the satirist Xenophanes out of account. He was also
the last among the Greeks; for the forged Pythagorean poems may be
neglected.[535] Lucretius imitates Empedokles in this, just as
Empedokles imitated Parmenides. Of course, the poetical imagery creates
a difficulty for the interpreter; but it would be wrong to make too much
of it. It cannot be said that it is harder to extract the philosophical
kernel from the verses of Empedokles than from the prose of Herakleitos.

Footnote 535:

  See Chap. IV. § 85.

There is some divergence of opinion as to the poetical merit of
Empedokles. The panegyric of Lucretius is well known.[536] Aristotle
says in one place that Empedokles and Homer have nothing in common but
the metre; in another, that Empedokles was “most Homeric.”[537] To my
mind, there can be no question that he was a genuine poet, far more so
than Parmenides. No one doubts nowadays that Lucretius was one, and
Empedokles really resembles him very closely.

Footnote 536:

  Lucr. i. 716 sqq.

Footnote 537:

  _Poet._ 1. 1447 b 18; cf. Diog. viii. 57 (R. P. 162 i).

[Sidenote: The remains.]

105. We have more abundant remains of Empedokles than of any other early
Greek philosopher. If we may trust our manuscripts of Diogenes and of
Souidas, the librarians of Alexandria estimated the _Poem on Nature_ and
the _Purifications_ together as 5000 verses, of which about 2000
belonged to the former work.[538] Diels gives about 350 verses and parts
of verses from the cosmological poem, or not a fifth of the whole. It is
important to remember that, even in this favourable instance, so much
has been lost. Besides the two poems, the Alexandrian scholars possessed
a prose work of 600 lines on medicine ascribed to Empedokles. The
tragedies and other poems which were sometimes attributed to him seem
really to belong to a younger writer of the same name, who is said by
Souidas to have been his grandson.[539]

Footnote 538:

  Diog. viii. 77 (R. P. 162); Souidas _s.v._ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς· καὶ ἔγραψε δι’
  ἐπῶν Περὶ φύσεως τῶν ὄντων βιβλία βʹ, καὶ ἔστιν ἔπη ὡς δισχίλια. It
  hardly seems likely, however, that the Καθαρμοί extended to 3000
  verses, so Diels proposes to read πάντα τρισχίλια for πεντακισχίλια in
  Diogenes. It is to be observed that there is no better authority than
  Tzetzes for dividing the Περὶ φύσεως into three books. See Diels,
  “Über die Gedichte des Empedokles” (_Berl. Sitzb._, 1898, pp. 396
  sqq.).

Footnote 539:

  Hieronymos of Rhodes declared (Diog. viii. 58) that he had met with
  forty-three of these tragedies; but see Stein, pp. 5 sqq. The poem on
  the Persian Wars, which Hieronymos also refers to (Diog. viii. 57),
  seems to have arisen from an old corruption in the text of Arist.
  _Probl._ 929 b 16, where Bekker still reads ἐν τοῖς Περσικοῖς. The
  same passage, however, is said to occur ἐν τοῖς φυσικοῖς, in _Meteor._
  Δ, 4. 382 a 1, though there too E reads Περσικοῖς.

I give the remains as they are arranged by Diels:—

                                   (1)

  And do thou give ear, Pausanias, son of Anchitos the wise!

                                   (2)

  For straitened are the powers that are spread over their bodily parts,
  and many are the woes that burst in on them and blunt the edge of
  their careful thoughts! They behold but a brief span of a life that is
  no life,[540] and, doomed to swift death, are borne up and fly off
  like smoke. Each is convinced of that alone which he had chanced upon
  as he is <<5>> hurried to and fro, and idly boasts he has found the
  whole. So hardly can these things be seen by the eyes or heard by the
  ears of men, so hardly grasped by their mind! Thou,[541] then, since
  thou hast found thy way hither, shalt learn no more than mortal mind
  hath power. R. P. 163.

                                   (3)

  ... to keep within thy dumb heart.

                                   (4)

  But, O ye gods, turn aside from my tongue the madness of those
  men.[542] Hallow my lips and make a pure stream flow from them! And
  thee, much-wooed, white-armed Virgin Muse, do I beseech that I may
  hear what is lawful for the children of a day! Speed me on my way from
  the abode of <<5>> Holiness and drive my willing car! Thee shall no
  garlands of glory and honour at the hands of mortals constrain to lift
  them from the ground, on condition of speaking in thy pride beyond
  that which is lawful and right, and so to gain a seat upon the heights
  of wisdom.

  Go to now, consider with all thy powers in what way each thing is
  clear. Hold not thy sight in greater credit as <<10>> compared with
  thy hearing, nor value thy resounding ear above the clear
  instructions of thy tongue;[543] and do not withhold thy confidence
  in any of thy other bodily parts by which there is an opening for
  understanding,[544] but consider everything in the way it is clear.
  R. P. 163.

                                   (5)

  But it is ever the way of low minds to disbelieve their betters. Do
  thou learn as the sure testimonies of my Muse bid thee, dividing the
  argument in thy heart.[545]

                                   (6)

  Hear first the four roots of all things: shining Zeus, life-bringing
  Hera, Aidoneus, and Nestis whose tear-drops are a well-spring to
  mortals. R. P. 164.[546]

                                   (7)

  ... uncreated.

                                   (8)

  And I shall tell thee another thing. There is no coming into being of
  aught that perishes, nor any end for it in baneful death; but only
  mingling and change of what has been mingled. Coming into being is but
  a name given to these by men. R. P. 165.

                                   (9)

  But, when the elements have been mingled in the fashion of a man and
  come to the light of day, or in the fashion of the race of wild beasts
  or plants or birds, then men say that these come into being; and when
  they are separated, they call that woeful death. They call it not
  aright; but I too follow <<5>> the custom, and call it so myself.

                                   (10)

  Avenging death.

                                 (11, 12)

  Fools!—for they have no far-reaching thoughts—who deem that what
  before was not comes into being, or that aught can perish and be
  utterly destroyed. For it cannot be that aught can arise from what in
  no way is, and it is impossible and unheard of that what _is_ should
  perish; for it <<5>> will always _be_, wherever one may keep putting
  it. R. P. 165 a.

                                   (13)

  And in the All there is naught empty and naught too full.

                                   (14)

  In the All there is naught empty. Whence, then, could aught come to
  increase it?

                                   (15)

  A man who is wise in such matters would never surmise in his heart
  that as long as mortals live what they call their life, so long they
  are, and suffer good and ill; while before they were formed and after
  they have been dissolved they are just nothing at all. R. P. 165 a.

                                   (16)

  For of a truth they (Strife and Love) were aforetime and shall be; nor
  ever, methinks, will boundless time be emptied of that pair. R. P. 166
  c.

                                   (17)

  I shall tell thee a twofold tale. At one time it grew to be one only
  out of many; at another, it divided up to be many instead of one.
  There is a double becoming of perishable things and a double passing
  away. The coming together of all things brings one generation into
  being and destroys it; the other grows up and is scattered as things
  become <<5>> divided. And these things never cease continually
  changing places, at one time all uniting in one through Love, at
  another each borne in different directions by the repulsion of Strife.
  Thus, as far as it is their nature to grow into one out of many, and
  to become many once more when the one is parted <<10>> asunder, so far
  they come into being and their life abides not. But, inasmuch as they
  never cease changing their places continually, so far they are ever
  immovable as they go round the circle of existence.

                  *       *       *       *       *

  But come, hearken to my words, for it is learning that increaseth
  wisdom. As I said before, when I declared the <<15>> heads of my
  discourse, I shall tell thee a twofold tale. At one time it grew
  together to be one only out of many, at another it parted asunder so
  as to be many instead of one;—Fire and Water and Earth and the mighty
  height of Air; dread Strife, too, apart from these, of equal weight to
  each, and Love among them, equal in length and breadth. <<20>> Her do
  thou contemplate with thy mind, nor sit with dazed eyes. It is she
  that is known as being implanted in the frame of mortals. It is she
  that makes them have thoughts of love and work the works of peace.
  They call her by the names of Joy and Aphrodite. Her has no mortal yet
  marked moving <<25>> round among them,[547] but do thou attend to the
  undeceitful ordering of my discourse.

  For all these are equal and alike in age, yet each has a different
  prerogative and its own peculiar nature. And nothing <<30>> comes into
  being besides these, nor do they pass away; for, if they had been
  passing away continually, they would not be now, and what could
  increase this All and whence could it come? How, too, could it perish,
  since no place is empty of these things? They are what they are; but,
  running through one another, they become now this, now that,[548] and
  like things <<35>> evermore. R. P. 166.

                                   (18)

  Love.

                                   (19)

  Clinging Love.

                                   (20)

  This (the contest of Love and Strife) is manifest in the mass of
  mortal limbs. At one time all the limbs that are the body’s portion
  are brought together by Love in blooming life’s high season; at
  another, severed by cruel Strife, they wander <<5>> each alone by the
  breakers of life’s sea. It is the same with plants and the fish that
  make their homes in the waters, with the beasts that have their lairs
  on the hills and the seabirds that sail on wings. R. P. 173 d.

                                   (21)

  Come now, look at the things that bear witness to my earlier
  discourse, if so be that there was any shortcoming as to their form in
  the earlier list. Behold the sun, everywhere bright and warm, and all
  the immortal things that are bathed in heat and bright radiance.[549]
  Behold the rain, everywhere dark <<5>> and cold; and from the earth
  issue forth things close-pressed and solid. When they are in strife
  all these are different in form and separated; but they come together
  in love, and are desired by one another.

  For out of these have sprung all things that were and are and shall
  be—trees and men and women, beasts and birds <<10>> and the fishes
  that dwell in the waters, yea, and the gods that live long lives and
  are exalted in honour. R. P. 166 i.

  For these things are what they are; but, running through one another,
  they take different shapes—so much does mixture change them. R. P. 166
  g.

                                   (22)

  For all of these—sun, earth, sky, and sea—are at one with all their
  parts that are cast far and wide from them in mortal things. And even
  so all things that are more adapted for mixture are like to one
  another and united in love by Aphrodite. Those things, again, that
  differ most in origin, <<5>> mixture and the forms imprinted on each,
  are most hostile, being altogether unaccustomed to unite and very
  sorry by the bidding of Strife, since it hath wrought their birth.

                                   (23)

  Just as when painters are elaborating temple-offerings, men whom
  wisdom hath well taught their art,—they, when they have taken pigments
  of many colours with their hands, mix them in due proportion, more of
  some and less of others, and from them produce shapes like unto all
  things, making trees <<5>> and men and women, beasts and birds and
  fishes that dwell in the waters, yea, and gods, that live long lives,
  and are exalted in honour,—so let not the error prevail over thy
  mind,[550] that there is any other source of all the perishable
  creatures that appear in countless numbers. Know this for sure, for
  thou <<10>> hast heard the tale from a goddess.[551]

                                   (24)

  Stepping from summit to summit, not to travel only one path to the
  end....

                                   (25)

  What is right may well be said even twice.

                                   (26)

  For they prevail in turn as the circle comes round, and pass into one
  another, and grow great in their appointed turn. R. P. 166 c.

  They are what they are; but, running through one another, they become
  men and the tribes of beasts. At one time they are all brought
  together into one order by Love; at another, <<5>> they are carried
  each in different directions by the repulsion of Strife, till they
  grow once more into one and are wholly subdued. Thus in so far as they
  are wont to grow into one out of many, and again divided become more
  than one, so far they come into being, and their life is not lasting;
  but in <<10>> so far as they never cease changing continually, so far
  are they evermore, immovable in the circle.

                                   (27)

  There are distinguished neither the swift limbs of the sun, no, nor
  the shaggy earth in its might, nor the sea,—so fast was the god bound
  in the close covering of Harmony, spherical and round, rejoicing in
  his circular solitude.[552] R. P. 167.

                                 (27_a_)

  There is no discord and no unseemly strife in his limbs.

                                   (28)

  But he was equal on every side and quite without end, spherical and
  round, rejoicing in his circular solitude.

                                   (29)

  Two branches do not spring from his back, he has no feet, no swift
  knees, no fruitful parts; but he was spherical and equal on every
  side.

                                 (30, 31)

  But, when Strife was grown great in the limbs of the god and sprang
  forth to claim his prerogatives, in the fulness of the alternate time
  set for them by the mighty oath, ... for all the limbs of the god in
  turn quaked. R. P. 167.

                                   (32)

  The joint binds two things.

                                   (33)

  Even as when fig juice rivets and binds white milk....

                                   (34)

  Cementing[553] meal with water....

                                 (35, 36)

  But now I shall retrace my steps over the paths of song that I have
  travelled before, drawing from my saying a new saying. When Strife was
  fallen to the lowest depth of the vortex, and Love had reached to the
  centre of the whirl, in it do all things come together so as to be one
  only; not all at once, <<5>> but coming together at their will each
  from different quarters; and, as they mingled, countless tribes of
  mortal creatures were scattered abroad. Yet many things remained
  unmixed, alternating with the things that were being mixed, namely,
  all that Strife not fallen yet retained; for it had not yet altogether
  retired <<10>> perfectly from them to the outermost boundaries of the
  circle. Some of it still remained within, and some had passed out from
  the limbs of the All. But in proportion as it kept rushing out, a
  soft, immortal stream of blameless Love kept running in, and
  straightway those things became mortal which had been immortal before,
  those things were mixed that had been <<15>> unmixed, each changing
  its path. And, as they mingled, countless tribes of mortal creatures
  were scattered abroad endowed with all manner of forms, a wonder to
  behold. R. P. 169.

                  *       *       *       *       *

                                   (37)

  Earth increases its own mass, and Air swells the bulk of Air.

                                   (38)

  Come, I shall now tell thee first of all the beginning of the
  sun,[554] and the sources from which have sprung all the things we now
  behold, the earth and the billowy sea, the damp vapour and the Titan
  air that binds his circle fast round all things. R. P. 170 a.

                                   (39)

  If the depths of the earth and the vast air were infinite, a foolish
  saying which has been vainly dropped from the lips of many mortals,
  though they have seen but a little of the All....[555] R. P. 103 b.

                                   (40)

  The sharp-darting sun and the gentle moon.

                                   (41)

  But (the sunlight) is gathered together and circles round the mighty
  heavens.

                                   (42)

  And she cuts off his rays as he goes above her, and casts a shadow on
  as much of the earth as is the breadth of the pale-faced moon.[556]

                                   (43)

  Even so the sunbeam, having struck the broad and mighty circle of the
  moon, returns at once, running so as to reach the sky.

                                   (44)

  It flashes back to Olympos with untroubled countenance. R. P. 170 c.

                                 (45, 46)

  There circles round the earth a round borrowed light, as the nave of
  the wheel circles round the furthest (goal).

                                   (47)

  For she gazes at the sacred circle of the lordly sun opposite.

                                   (48)

  It is the earth that makes night by coming before the lights.

                                   (49)

  ... of solitary, blind-eyed night.

                                   (50)

  And Iris bringeth wind or mighty rain from the sea.

                                   (51)

  (Fire) swiftly rushing upwards....

                                   (52)

  And many fires burn beneath the earth. R. P. 171 a.

                                   (53)

  For so as it ran, it met them at that time, though often otherwise. R.
  P. 171 a.

                                   (54)

  But the air sank down upon the earth with its long roots. R. P. 171 a.

                                   (55)

  Sea the sweat of the earth. R. P. 170 b.

                                   (56)

  Salt was solidified by the impact of the sun’s beams.

                                   (57)

  On it (the earth) many heads sprung up without necks and arms wandered
  bare and bereft of shoulders. Eyes strayed up and down in want of
  foreheads. R. P. 173 a.

                                   (58)

  Solitary limbs wandered seeking for union.

                                   (59)

  But, as divinity was mingled still further with divinity, these things
  joined together as each might chance, and many other things besides
  them continually arose.

                                   (60)

  Shambling creatures with countless hands.

                                   (61)

  Many creatures with faces and breasts looking in different directions
  were born; some, offspring of oxen with faces of men, while others,
  again, arose as offspring of men with the heads of oxen, and creatures
  in whom the nature of women and men was mingled, furnished with
  sterile[557] parts. <<5>> R. P. 173 b.

                                   (62)

  Come now, hear how the Fire as it was separated caused the night-born
  shoots of men and tearful women to arise; for my tale is not off the
  point nor uninformed. Whole-natured forms first arose from the earth,
  having a portion both of water and fire.[558] These did the fire,
  desirous of <<5>> reaching its like, send up, showing as yet neither
  the charming form of women’s limbs, nor yet the voice and parts that
  are proper to men. R. P. 173 c.

                                   (63)

  ... But the substance of (the child’s) limbs is divided between them,
  part of it in men’s and part in women’s (body).

                                   (64)

  And upon him came desire reminding him through sight.

                                   (65)

  ... And it was poured out in the pure parts; and when it met with cold
  women arose from it.

                                   (66)

  The divided meadows of Aphrodite.

                                   (67)

  For in its warmer part the womb brings forth males, and that is why
  men are dark and more manly and shaggy.

                                   (68)

  On the tenth day of the eighth month the white putrefaction
  arises.[559]

                                   (69)

  Double bearing.[560]

                                   (70)

  Sheepskin.[561]

                                   (71)

  But if thy assurance of these things was in any way deficient as to
  how, out of Water and Earth and Air and Fire mingled together, arose
  the forms and colours of all those mortal things that have been fitted
  together by Aphrodite, and so are now come into being.... <<5>>

                                   (72)

  How tall trees and the fishes in the sea....

                                   (73)

  And even as at that time Kypris, preparing warmth,[562] after she had
  moistened the Earth in water, gave it to swift fire to harden it....
  R. P. 171.

                                   (74)

  Leading the songless tribe of fertile fish.

                                   (75)

  All of those which are dense within and rare without, having received
  a moisture of this kind at the hands of Kypris....

                                   (76)

  This thou mayest see in the heavy-backed shell-fish that dwell in the
  sea, in sea-snails and the stony-skinned turtles. In them thou mayest
  see that the earthy part dwells on the uppermost surface.

                                 (77-78)

  It is the air that makes evergreen trees flourish with abundance of
  fruit the whole year round.

                                   (79)

  And so first of all tall olive trees bear eggs....

                                   (80)

  Wherefore pomegranates are late-born and apples succulent.

                                   (81)

  Wine is the water from the bark, putrefied in the wood.

                                   (82)

  Hair and leaves, and thick feathers of birds, and the scales that grow
  on mighty limbs, are the same thing.

                                   (83)

  But the hair of hedgehogs is sharp-pointed and bristles on their
  backs.

                                   (84)

  And even as when a man thinking to sally forth through a stormy night,
  gets him ready a lantern, a flame of blazing fire, fastening to it
  horn plates to keep out all manner of winds, and they scatter the
  blast of the winds that blow, but the light leaping out through them,
  shines across the threshold <<5>> with unfailing beams, as much of it
  as is finer;[563] even so did she (Love) then entrap the elemental
  fire, the round pupil, confined within membranes and delicate tissues,
  which are pierced through and through with wondrous passages. They
  keep out the deep water that surrounds the pupil, but they <<10>> let
  through the fire, as much of it as is finer. R. P. 177 b.

                                   (85)

  But the gentle flame (of the eye) has but a scanty portion of earth.

                                   (86)

  Out of these divine Aphrodite fashioned unwearying eyes.

                                   (87)

  Aphrodite fitting these together with rivets of love.

                                   (88)

  One vision is produced by both the eyes.

                                   (89)

  Know that effluences flow from all things that have come into being.
  R. P. 166 h.

                                   (90)

  So sweet lays hold of sweet, and bitter rushes to bitter; acid comes
  to acid, and warm couples with warm.

                                   (91)

  Water fits better into wine, but it will not (mingle) with oil. R. P.
  166 h.

                                   (92)

  Brass mixed with tin.

                                   (93)

  The berry of the blue elder is mingled with scarlet.

                                   (94)

  And the black colour at the bottom of a river arises from the shadow.
  The same is seen in hollow caves.

                                   (95)

  Since they (the eyes) first grew together in the hands of Kypris.

                                   (96)

  The kindly earth received in its broad funnels two parts of gleaming
  Nestis out of the eight, and four of Hephaistos. So arose white bones
  divinely fitted together by the cement of proportion. R. P. 175.

                                   (97)

  The spine (was broken).

                                   (98)

  And the earth, anchoring in the perfect harbours of Aphrodite, meets
  with these in nearly equal proportions, with Hephaistos and Water and
  gleaming Air—either a little more of it, or less of them and more of
  it. From these did blood arise and the manifold forms of flesh. R. P.
  175 c.

                                   (99)

  The bell ... the fleshy sprout (of the ear).[564]

                                  (100)

  Thus[565] do all things draw breath and breathe it out again. All have
  bloodless tubes of flesh extended over the surface of their bodies;
  and at the mouths of these the outermost surface of the skin is
  perforated all over with pores closely packed together, so as to keep
  in the blood while a free <<5>> passage is cut for the air to pass
  through. Then, when the thin blood recedes from these, the bubbling
  air rushes in with an impetuous surge; and when the blood runs back it
  is breathed out again. Just as when a girl, playing with a water-clock
  of shining brass, puts the orifice of the pipe upon <<10>> her comely
  hand, and dips the water-clock into the yielding mass of silvery
  water,—the stream does not then flow into the vessel, but the bulk of
  the air inside, pressing upon the close-packed perforations, keeps it
  out till she uncovers the compressed stream; but then air escapes and
  an equal volume <<15>> of water runs in,—just in the same way, when
  water occupies the depths of the brazen vessel and the opening and
  passage is stopped up by the human hand, the air outside, striving to
  get in, holds the water back at the gates of the ill-sounding neck,
  pressing upon its surface, till she lets go with her hand. <<20>>
  Then, on the contrary, just in the opposite way to what happened
  before, the wind rushes in and an equal volume of water runs out to
  make room.[566] Even so, when the thin blood that surges through the
  limbs rushes backwards to the interior, straightway the stream of air
  comes in with a rushing swell; <<25>> but when the blood returns the
  air breathes out again in equal quantity.

                                  (101)

  (The dog) with its nostrils tracking out the fragments of the beast’s
  limbs, and the breath from their feet that they leave in the soft
  grass.[567]

                                  (102)

  Thus all things have their share of breath and smell.

                                (103, 104)

  Thus have all things thought by fortune’s will.... And inasmuch as the
  rarest things came together in their fall.

                                  (105)

  (The heart), dwelling in the sea of blood that runs in opposite
  directions, where chiefly is what men call thought; for the blood
  round the heart is the thought of men. R. P. 178 a.

                                  (106)

  For the wisdom of men grows according to what is before them. R. P.
  177.

                                  (107)

  For out of these are all things formed and fitted together, and by
  these do men think and feel pleasure and pain. R. P. 178.

                                  (108)

  And just so far as they grow to be different, so far do different
  thoughts ever present themselves to their minds (in dreams).[568] R.
  P. 177 a.

                                  (109)

  For it is with earth that we see Earth, and Water with water; by air
  we see bright Air, by fire destroying Fire. By love do we see Love,
  and Hate by grievous hate. R. P. 176.

                                  (110)

  For if, supported on thy steadfast mind, thou wilt contemplate these
  things with good intent and faultless care, then shalt thou have all
  these things in abundance throughout thy life, and thou shalt gain
  many others from them. For these things grow of themselves into thy
  heart, where is each <<5>> man’s true nature. But if thou strivest
  after things of another kind, as is the way with men, ten thousand
  woes await thee to blunt thy careful thoughts. Soon will these things
  desert thee when the time comes round; for they long to return once
  more to their own kind; for know that all things have <<10>> wisdom
  and a share of thought.

                                  (111)

  And thou shalt learn all the drugs that are a defence against ills and
  old age; since for thee alone will I accomplish all this. Thou shalt
  arrest the violence of the weariless winds that arise and sweep the
  earth; and again, when thou so desirest, thou shalt bring back their
  blasts with a rush. Thou <<5>> shalt cause for men a seasonable
  drought after the dark rains, and again thou shalt change the summer
  drought for streams that feed the trees as they pour down from the
  sky. Thou shalt bring back from Hades the life of a dead man.

Footnote 540:

  The MSS. of Sextus have ζωῆσι βίου. Diels reads ζωῆς ἰδίου. I still
  prefer Scaliger’s ζωῆς ἀβίου. Cf. fr. 15, τὸ δὴ βίοτον καλέουσι.

Footnote 541:

  The person here addressed is still Pausanias, and the speaker
  Empedokles. Cf. fr. 111.

Footnote 542:

  No doubt mainly Parmenides.

Footnote 543:

  The sense of taste, not speech.

Footnote 544:

  Zeller in his earlier editions retained the full stop after νοῆσαι,
  thus getting almost the opposite sense: “Withhold all confidence in
  thy bodily senses”; but he admits in his fifth edition (p. 804, n. 2)
  that the context is in favour of Stein, who put only a comma at νοῆσαι
  and took ἄλλων closely with γυίων. So too Diels. The paraphrase given
  by Sextus (R. P. _ib._) is substantially right.

Footnote 545:

  There is no difficulty in the MS. διατμηθέντος if we take λόγοιο as
  “discourse,” “argument” (cf. διαιρεῖν). Diels conjectures
  διασσηθέντος, rendering “when their words have passed through the
  sieve of thy mind.” Nor does it seem to me necessary to read χαρτά for
  κάρτα in the first line.

Footnote 546:

  The four elements are introduced under mythological names, for which
  see below, p. 264, _n._ 583. Diels is clearly right in removing the
  comma after τέγγει, and rendering _Nestis quae lacrimis suis laticem
  fundit mortalibus destinatum_.

Footnote 547:

  Reading μετὰ τοῖσιν. I still think, however, that Knatz’s
  palaeographically admirable conjuncture μετὰ θεοῖσιν (_i.e._ among the
  elements) deserves consideration.

Footnote 548:

  Keeping ἄλλοτε with Diels.

Footnote 549:

  Reading ἄμβροτα δ’ ὅσσ’ ἴδει with Diels. For the word ἶδος, cf. frs.
  62, 5; 73, 2. The reference is to the moon, etc., which are made of
  solidified Air, and receive their light from the fiery hemisphere. See
  below, § 113.

Footnote 550:

  Reading with Blass (_Jahrb. f. kl. Phil._, 1883, p. 19):

                  οὕτω μή σ’ ἀπάτη φρένα καινύτω κ.τ.λ.

  Cf. Hesychios: καινύτω· νικάτω. This is practically what the MSS. of
  Simplicius give, and Hesychios has many Empedoklean glosses.

Footnote 551:

  The “goddess” is, of course, the Muse. Cf. fr. 5.

Footnote 552:

  The word μονίῃ, if it is right, cannot mean “rest,” but only solitude.
  There is no reason for altering περιηγέι, though Simplicius has
  περιγηθέι.

Footnote 553:

  The masculine καλλήσας shows that the subject cannot have been
  Φιλότης; and Karsten was doubtless right in believing that Empedokles
  introduced the simile of a baker here. It is in his manner to take
  illustrations from human arts.

Footnote 554:

  The MSS. of Clement have ἥλιον ἀρχήν and the reading ἡλίου ἀρχήν is a
  mere makeshift. Diels reads ἥλικά τ’ ἀρχήν, “the first (elements)
  equal in age.”

Footnote 555:

  The lines are referred to Xenophanes by Aristotle, who quotes them _de
  Caelo_, Β, 13. 294 a 21. See above, Chap. II. p. 137.

Footnote 556:

  I have translated Diels’s conjecture ἀπεστέγασεν δέ οἱ αὐγάς, | ἔστ’
  ἂν ἴῃ καθύπερθεν. The MSS. have ἀπεσκεύασεν and ἔστε αἶαν.

Footnote 557:

  Reading στείροις with Diels, _Hermes_, xv. _loc. cit._

Footnote 558:

  Retaining εἴδεος (_i.e._ ἴδεος), which is read in the MSS. of
  Simplicius. Cf. above, p. 243, _n._ 549.

Footnote 559:

  That Empedokles regarded milk as putrefied blood is stated by
  Aristotle (_de Gen. An._ Δ, 8. 777 a 7). The word πύον means _pus_.
  There may be a punning allusion to πυός, “beestings,” but that has its
  vowel long.

Footnote 560:

  Said of women in reference to births in the seventh and ninth months.

Footnote 561:

  Of the membrane round the fœtus.

Footnote 562:

  Reading ἴδεα ποιπνύουσα with Diels.

Footnote 563:

  See Beare, p. 16, n. 1, where Plato, _Tim._ 45 b 4 (τοῦ πυρὸς ὅσον τὸ
  μὲν κάειν οὐκ ἔσχεν, τὸ δὲ παρέχειν φῶς ἥμερον), is aptly quoted.
  Alexander _ad loc._ understands κατὰ βηλόν to mean κατ’ οὐρανόν, which
  seems improbable.

Footnote 564:

  On fr. 99, see Beare, p. 96, n. 1.

Footnote 565:

  This passage is quoted by Aristotle (_de Respir_, 473 b 9), who makes
  the curious mistake of taking ῥινῶν for the genitive of ῥίς instead of
  ῥινός. The _locus classicus_ on the subject of the klepsydra is
  _Probl._ 914 b 9 sqq. (where read αὐλοῦ for ἄλλου, b 12). The
  klepsydra was a metal vessel with a narrow neck (αὐλός) at the top and
  with a sort of strainer (ἠθμός) pierced with holes (τρήματα,
  τρυπήματα) at the bottom. The passage in the _Problems_ just referred
  to attributes this theory of the phenomenon to Anaxagoras, and we
  shall see later that he also made use of a similar experiment (§ 131).

Footnote 566:

  This seems to be the experiment described in _Probl._ 914 b 26, ἐὰν
  γάρ τις αὐτῆς (τῆς κλεψύδρας) αὐτὴν τὴν κωδίαν ἐμπλήσας ὕδατος,
  ἐπιλαβὼν τὸν αὐλόν, καταστρέψῃ ἐπὶ τὸν αὐλόν, οὐ φέρεται τὸ ὕδωρ διὰ
  τοῦ αὐλοῦ ἐπὶ στόμα. ἀνοιχθέντος δὲ τοῦ στόματος, οὐκ εὐθὺς ἐκρεῖ κατὰ
  τὸν αὐλόν, ἀλλὰ μικροτέρῳ ὕστερον, ὡς οὐκ ὂν ἐπὶ τῷ στόματι τοῦ αὐλοῦ,
  ἀλλ’ ὕστερον διὰ τούτου φερόμενον ἀνοιχθέντος. The epithet δυσηχέος
  applied to ἰσθμοῖο is best explained as a reference to the ἐρυγμός or
  “belching” referred to at 915 a 7 as accompanying the discharge of
  water through the αὐλός. Any one can produce this effect with a
  water-bottle. If it were not for this epithet, it would be tempting to
  read ἠθμοῖο for ἰσθμοῖο. Sturz conjectured this, and it is actually
  the reading of a few MSS.

Footnote 567:

  On fr. 101, see Beare, p. 135, n. 2.

Footnote 568:

  That the reference is to dreams, we learn from Simpl. _de An._ p. 202,
  30.

                              PURIFICATIONS

                                  (112)

  Friends, that inhabit the great town looking down on the yellow rock
  of Akragas, up by the citadel, busy in goodly works, harbours of
  honour for the stranger, men unskilled in meanness, all hail. I go
  about among you an immortal god, no mortal now, honoured among all as
  is meet, crowned with fillets and <<5>> flowery garlands. Straightway,
  whenever I enter with these in my train, both men and women, into the
  flourishing towns, is reverence done me; they go after me in countless
  throngs, asking of me what is the way to gain; some desiring oracles,
  while some, who for many a weary day have been pierced <<10>> by the
  grievous pangs of all manner of sickness, beg to hear from me the word
  of healing. R. P. 162 f.

                                  (113)

  But why do I harp on these things, as if it were any great matter that
  I should surpass mortal, perishable men?

                                  (114)

  Friends, I know indeed that truth is in the words I shall utter, but
  it is hard for men, and jealous are they of the assault of belief on
  their souls.

                                  (115)

  There is an oracle of Necessity,[569] an ancient ordinance of the
  gods, eternal and sealed fast by broad oaths, that whenever one of the
  dæmons, whose portion is length of days, has sinfully polluted his
  hands with blood,[570] or followed strife and <<5>> forsworn himself,
  he must wander thrice ten thousand years from the abodes of the
  blessed, being born throughout the time in all manners of mortal
  forms, changing one toilsome path of life for another. For the mighty
  Air drives him into the Sea, and the Sea spews him forth on the dry
  Earth; Earth tosses him into the beams of the blazing Sun, and he
  <<10>> flings him back to the eddies of Air. One takes him from the
  other, and all reject him. One of these I now am, an exile and a
  wanderer from the gods, for that I put my trust in insensate strife.
  R. P. 181.

                                  (116)

  Charis loathes intolerable Necessity.

                                  (117)

  For I have been ere now a boy and a girl, a bush and a bird and a dumb
  fish in the sea. R. P. 182.

                                  (118)

  I wept and I wailed when I saw the unfamiliar land. R. P. 182.

                                  (119)

  From what honour, from what a height of bliss have I fallen to go
  about among mortals here on earth.

                                  (120)

  We have come under this roofed-in cave.[571]

                                  (121)

  ... the joyless land, where are Death and Wrath and troops of Dooms
  besides; and parching Plagues and Rottennesses and Floods roam in
  darkness over the meadow of Ate.

                                (122, 123)

  There were[572] Chthonie and far-sighted Heliope, bloody Discord and
  gentle-visaged Harmony, Kallisto and Aischre, Speed and Tarrying,
  lovely Truth and dark-haired Uncertainty, Birth and Decay, Sleep and
  Waking, Movement and Immobility, crowned Majesty and Meanness, Silence
  and Voice. <<5>> R. P. 182 a.

                                  (124)

  Alas, O wretched race of mortals, twice unblessed: such are the
  strifes and groanings from which ye have been born!

                                  (125)

  From living creatures he made them dead, changing their forms.

                                  (126)

  (The goddess) clothing them with a strange garment of flesh.[573]

                                  (127)

  Among beasts they[574] become lions that make their lair on the hills
  and their couch on the ground; and laurels among trees with goodly
  foliage. R. P. 181 b.

                                  (128)

  Nor had they[575] any Ares for a god nor Kydoimos, no nor King Zeus
  nor Kronos nor Poseidon, but Kypris the Queen.... Her did they
  propitiate with holy gifts, with painted figures[576] and perfumes of
  cunning fragrancy, with offerings of pure myrrh and sweet-smelling
  frankincense, casting on the <<5>> ground libations of brown honey.
  And the altar did not reek with pure bull’s blood, but this was held
  in the greatest abomination among men, to eat the goodly limbs after
  tearing out the life. R. P. 184.

                                  (129)

  And there was among them a man of rare knowledge, most skilled in all
  manner of wise works, a man who had won the utmost wealth of wisdom;
  for whensoever he strained with all his mind, he easily saw everything
  of all the things that are, in ten, yea, twenty lifetimes of men.[577]
  <<5>>

                                  (130)

  For all things were tame and gentle to man, both beasts and birds, and
  friendly feelings were kindled everywhere. R. P. 184 a.

                                  (131)

  If ever, as regards the things of a day, immortal Muse, thou didst
  deign to take thought for my endeavour, then stand by me once more as
  I pray to thee, O Kalliopeia, as I utter a pure discourse concerning
  the blessed gods. R. P. 179.

                                  (132)

  Blessed is the man who has gained the riches of divine wisdom;
  wretched he who has a dim opinion of the gods in his heart. R. P. 179.

                                  (133)

  It is not possible for us to set God before our eyes, or to lay hold
  of him with our hands, which is the broadest way of persuasion that
  leads into the heart of man.

                                  (134)

  For he is not furnished with a human head on his body, two branches do
  not sprout from his shoulders, he has no feet, no swift knees, nor
  hairy parts; but he is only a sacred and unutterable mind flashing
  through the whole world with rapid thoughts. R. P. 180.

                                  (135)

  This is not lawful for some and unlawful for others; but the law for
  all extends everywhere, through the wide-ruling air and the infinite
  light of heaven. R. P. 183.

                                  (136)

  Will ye not cease from this ill-sounding slaughter? See ye not that ye
  are devouring one another in the thoughtlessness of your hearts? R. P.
  184 b.

                                  (137)

  And the father lifts up his own son in a changed form and slays him
  with a prayer. Infatuated fool! And they run up to the sacrifices,
  begging mercy, while he, deaf to their cries, slaughters them in his
  halls and gets ready the evil feast. In like manner does the son seize
  his father, and children their <<5>> mother, tear out their life and
  eat the kindred flesh. R. P. 184 b.

                                  (138)

  Draining their life with bronze.

                                  (139)

  Ah, woe is me that the pitiless day of death did not destroy me ere
  ever I wrought evil deeds of devouring with my lips! R. P. 184 b.

                                  (140)

  Abstain wholly from laurel leaves.

                                  (141)

  Wretches, utter wretches, keep your hands from beans!

                                  (142)

  Him will the roofed palace of aigis-bearing Zeus never rejoice, nor
  yet the house of....

                                  (143)

  Wash your hands, cutting the water from the five springs in the
  unyielding bronze.[578] R. P. 184 c.

                                  (144)

  Fast from wickedness! R. P. 184 c.

                                  (145)

  Therefore are ye distraught by grievous wickednesses, and will not
  unburden your souls of wretched sorrows.

                                (146, 147)

  But, at the last, they appear among mortal men as prophets,
  song-writers, physicians, and princes; and thence they rise up as gods
  exalted in honour, sharing the hearth of the other gods and the same
  table, free from human woes, safe from destiny, and incapable of hurt.
  <<5>> R. P. 181 c.

                                  (148)

  ... Earth that envelops the man.

Footnote 569:

  Bernays conjectured ῥῆμα, “decree,” for χρῆμα, but this is not
  necessary. Necessity is an Orphic personage, and Gorgias, the disciple
  of Empedokles, says θεῶν βουλεύμασιν καὶ ἀνάγκης ψηφίσμασιν (_Hel._
  6).

Footnote 570:

  I retain φόνῳ in v. 3 (so too Diels). The first word of v. 4 has been
  lost. Diels suggests Νείκεϊ, which may well be right, and takes
  ἁμαρτήσας as equivalent to ὁμαρτήσας. I have translated accordingly.

Footnote 571:

  According to Porphyry, who quotes this line (_de Antro Nymph._ 8),
  these words were spoken by the “powers” who conduct the soul into the
  world (ψυχοπομποὶ δυνάμεις). The “cave” is not originally Platonic but
  Orphic.

Footnote 572:

  This passage is closely modelled on the Catalogue of Nymphs in _Iliad_
  xviii. 39 sqq. Chthonie is found already in Pherekydes (Diog. i. 119).

Footnote 573:

  I have retained ἀλλόγνωτι as nearer the MSS., though a little hard to
  interpret. On the subsequent history of the Orphic _chiton_ in gnostic
  imagery see Bernays, _Theophr. Schr._ n. 9. It was identified with the
  coat of skins made by God for Adam.

Footnote 574:

  This is the best μετοίκησις (Ael. _Nat. an._ xii. 7).

Footnote 575:

  The dwellers in the Golden Age.

Footnote 576:

  The MSS. of Porphyry have γραπτοῖς τε ζώοισι, which is accepted by
  Zeller and Diels. The emendation of Bernays (adopted in R. P.) does
  not convince me. I venture to suggest μακτοῖς, on the strength of the
  story related by Favorinus (_ap._ Diog. viii. 53) as to the bloodless
  sacrifice offered by Empedokles at Olympia.

Footnote 577:

  These lines were already referred to Pythagoras by Timaios (Diog.
  viii. 54). As we are told (Diog. _ib._) that some referred the verses
  to Parmenides, it is clear that no name was given.

Footnote 578:

  On frs. 138 and 143 see Vahlen on Arist. _Poet._ 21. 1547 b 13, and
  Diels in _Hermes_, xv. p. 173.

[Sidenote: Empedokles and Parmenides.]

106. At the very outset of his poem, Empedokles is careful to mark the
difference between himself and previous inquirers. He speaks angrily of
those who, though their experience was only partial, professed to have
found the whole (fr. 2); he even calls this “madness” (fr. 4). No doubt
he is thinking of Parmenides. His own position is not, however,
sceptical. He only deprecates the attempt to construct a theory of the
universe off-hand instead of trying to understand each thing we come
across “in the way in which it is clear” (fr. 4). And this means that we
must not, like Parmenides, reject the assistance of the senses. Weak
though they are (fr. 2), they are the only channels through which
knowledge can enter our minds at all. We soon discover, however, that
Empedokles is not very mindful of his own warnings. He too sets up a
system which is to explain everything, though that system is no longer a
monistic one.

It is often said that this system was an attempt to mediate between
Parmenides and Herakleitos. It is not easy, however, to find any trace
of specially Herakleitean doctrine in it, and it would be truer to say
that it aimed at mediating between Eleaticism and the senses. He
repeats, almost in the same words, the Eleatic argument for the sole
reality and indestructibility of “what _is_” (frs. 11-15); and his idea
of the “Sphere” seems to be derived from the Parmenidean description of
the universe as it truly is.[579] Parmenides had held that the reality
which underlies the illusory world presented to us by the senses was a
corporeal, spherical, continuous, eternal, and immovable _plenum_, and
it is from this that Empedokles starts. Given the sphere of Parmenides,
he seems to have said, How are we to get from it to the world we know?
How are we to introduce motion into the immovable _plenum_? Now
Parmenides need not have denied the possibility of motion within the
Sphere, though he was bound to deny all motion of the Sphere itself; but
such an admission on his part, had he made it, would not have served to
explain anything. If any part of the Sphere were to move, the room of
the displaced matter must at once be taken by other matter, for there is
no empty space. This, however, would be of precisely the same kind as
the matter it had displaced; for all “that _is_” is one. The result of
the motion would be precisely the same as that of rest; it could account
for no change. But, Empedokles must have asked, is this assumption of
perfect homogeneity in the Sphere really necessary? Evidently not; it is
simply the old unreasoned feeling that existence must be one. If,
instead of this, we were to assume a number of existent things, it would
be quite possible to apply all that Parmenides says of reality to each
of them, and the forms of existence we know might be explained by the
mingling and separation of those realities. The conception of “elements”
(στοιχεῖα), to use a later term,[580] was found, and the required
formula follows at once. So far as concerns particular things, it is
true, as our senses tell us, that they come into being and pass away;
but, if we have regard to the ultimate elements of which they are
composed, we shall say with Parmenides that “what _is_” is uncreated and
indestructible (fr. 17).

Footnote 579:

  Cf. Emp. frs. 27, 28, with Parm. fr. 8.

Footnote 580:

  For the history of the term στοιχεῖον see Diels, _Elementum_. Eudemos
  said (_ap._ Simpl. _Phys._ p. 7, 13) that Plato was the first to use
  it, and this is confirmed by the way the word is introduced in _Tht._
  201 e. The original term was μορφή or ἰδέα.

[Sidenote: The “four roots.”]

107. The “four roots” of all things (fr. 6) which Empedokles assumed
were those that have become traditional—Fire, Air, Earth, and Water. It
is to be noticed, however, that he does not call Air ἀήρ, but αἰθήρ, and
this must be because he wished to avoid any confusion with what had
hitherto been meant by the former word. He had, in fact, made the great
discovery that atmospheric air is a distinct corporeal substance, and is
not to be identified with empty space on the one hand or rarefied mist
on the other. Water is not liquid air, but something quite
different.[581] This truth Empedokles demonstrated by means of the
apparatus known as the _klepsydra_, and we still possess the verses in
which he applied his discovery to the explanation of respiration and the
motion of the blood (fr. 100). Aristotle laughs at those who try to show
there is no empty space by shutting up air in water-clocks and torturing
wineskins. They only prove, he says, that air is a thing.[582] That,
however, is exactly what Empedokles intended to prove, and it was one of
the most important discoveries in the early history of science. It will
be convenient for us to translate the αἰθήρ of Empedokles by “air”; but
we must be careful in that case not to render the word ἀήρ in the same
way. Anaxagoras seems to have been the first to use it of atmospheric
air.

Footnote 581:

  Cf. Chap. I. § 27.

Footnote 582:

  Arist. _Phys._ Δ, 6, 213 a 22 (R. P. 159). Aristotle only mentions
  Anaxagoras by name in this passage; but he speaks in the plural, and
  we know from fr. 100 that the _klepsydra_ experiment was used by
  Empedokles.

Empedokles also called the “four roots” by the names of certain
divinities—“shining Zeus, life-bringing Hera, Aidoneus, and Nestis” (fr.
6)—though there is some doubt as to how these names are to be
apportioned among the elements. Nestis is said to have been a Sicilian
water-goddess, and the description of her shows that she stands for
Water; but there is a conflict of opinion as to the other three. This,
however, need not detain us.[583] We are already prepared to find that
Empedokles called the elements gods; for all the early thinkers had
spoken in this way of whatever they regarded as the primary substance.
We must only remember that the word is not used in its religious sense.
Empedokles did not pray or sacrifice to the elements, and the use of
divine names is in the main an accident of the poetical form in which he
cast his system.

Footnote 583:

  In antiquity the Homeric Allegorists made Hera Earth and Aidoneus Air,
  a view which has found its way into Aetios from Poseidonios. It arose
  as follows. The Homeric Allegorists were not interested in the science
  of Empedokles, and did not see that his αἰθήρ was quite a different
  thing from Homer’s ἀήρ. Now this is the dark element, and night is a
  form of it, so it would naturally be identified with Aidoneus. Again,
  Empedokles calls Hera φερέσβιος, and that is an old epithet of Earth
  in Homer. Another view current in antiquity identified Hera with Air,
  which is the theory of Plato’s _Cratylus_, and Aidoneus with Earth.
  The Homeric Allegorists further identified Zeus with Fire, a view to
  which they were doubtless led by the use of the word αἰθήρ. Now αἰθήρ
  certainly means Fire in Anaxagoras, as we shall see, but there is no
  doubt that in Empedokles it meant Air. It seems likely, then, that
  Knatz is right (“Empedoclea” in _Schedae Philologicae Hermanno Usenero
  oblatae_, 1891, pp. 1 sqq.) in holding that the bright Air of
  Empedokles was Zeus. This leaves Aidoneus to stand for Fire; and
  nothing could have been more natural for a Sicilian poet, with the
  volcanoes and hot springs of his native island in mind, than this
  identification. He refers to the fires that burn beneath the Earth
  himself (fr. 52). If that is so, we shall have to agree with the
  Homeric Allegorists that Hera is Earth; and there is certainly no
  improbability in that.

Empedokles regarded the “roots of all things” as eternal. Nothing can
come from nothing or pass away into nothing (fr. 12); what is _is_, and
there is no room for coming into being and passing away (fr. 8).
Further, Aristotle tells us, he taught that they were unchangeable.[584]
This Empedokles expressed by saying that “they are what they are” (frs.
17, 34; 21, 13), and are “always alike.” Again, they are all “equal,” a
statement which seemed strange to Aristotle,[585] but was quite
intelligible in the days of Empedokles. Above all, the elements are
ultimate. All other bodies, as Aristotle puts it, might be divided till
you came to the elements; but Empedokles could give no further account
of these without saying (as he did not) that there is an element of
which Fire and the rest are in turn composed.[586]

Footnote 584:

  Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ Β, 1. 329 b 1.

Footnote 585:

  _Ibid._ Β, 6. 333 a 16.

Footnote 586:

  _Ibid._ Α, 8. 325 b 19 (R. P. 164 e). This was so completely
  misunderstood by later writers that they actually attribute to
  Empedokles the doctrine of στοιχεῖα πρὸ τῶν στοιχείων (Aet. 1. 13, 1;
  17, 3). The criticism of the Pythagoreans and Plato had made the
  hypothesis of elements almost unintelligible to Aristotle, and _a
  fortiori_ to his successors. As Plato put it (_Tim._ 48 b 8), they
  were “not even syllables,” let alone “letters” (στοιχεῖα). That is why
  Aristotle, who derived them from something more primary, calls them τὰ
  καλούμενα στοιχεῖα (Diels, _Elementum_, p. 25).

The “four roots” are given as an exhaustive enumeration of the elements
(fr. 23 _sub fin._); for they account for all the qualities presented by
the world to the senses. When we find, as we do, that the school of
medicine which regarded Empedokles as its founder identified the four
elements with the “opposites,” the hot and the cold, the moist and the
dry, which formed the theoretical foundation of its system, we see at
once how the theory is related to previous views of reality.[587] To put
it shortly, what Empedokles did was to take the opposites of Anaximander
and to declare that they were “things,” each of which was real in the
Parmenidean sense. We must remember that the conception of quality had
not yet been formed. Anaximander had no doubt regarded his “opposites”
as things; though, before the time of Parmenides, no one had fully
realised how much was implied in saying that anything is a thing. That
is the stage we have now reached. There is still no conception of
quality, but there is a clear apprehension of what is involved in saying
that a thing _is_.

Footnote 587:

  We know from Menon that Philistion put the matter in this way. See p.
  235, _n._ 527.

Aristotle twice[588] makes the statement that, though Empedokles assumes
four elements, he treats them as two, opposing Fire to all the rest.
This, he says, we can see for ourselves from his poem. So far as the
general theory of the elements goes, it is impossible to see anything of
the sort; but, when we come to the origin of the world (§ 112), we shall
find that Fire certainly plays a leading part, and this may be what
Aristotle meant. It is also true that in the biology (§ 114–116) Fire
fulfils a unique function, while the other three act more or less in the
same way. But we must remember that it has no pre-eminence over the
rest: all are equal.

Footnote 588:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 4. 985 a 31; _de Gen. Corr._ Β, 3. 330 b 19 (R. P.
  164 e).

[Sidenote: Strife and Love.]

108. The Eleatic criticism had made it necessary for subsequent thinkers
to explain motion.[589] Empedokles starts, as we have seen, from an
original state of the “four roots,” which only differs from the Sphere
of Parmenides in so far as it is a mixture, not a homogeneous and
continuous mass. The fact that it is a mixture makes change and motion
possible; but, were there nothing outside the Sphere which could enter
in, like the Pythagorean “Air,” to separate the four elements, nothing
could ever arise from it. Empedokles accordingly assumed the existence
of such a substance, and he gave it the name of Strife. But the effect
of this would be to separate all the elements in the Sphere completely,
and then nothing more could possibly happen; something else was needed
to bring the elements together again. This Empedokles found in Love,
which he regarded as the same impulse to union that is implanted in
human bodies (fr. 17, 22 sqq.). He looks at it, in fact, from a purely
physiological point of view, as was natural for the founder of a medical
school. No mortal had yet marked, he says, that the very same Love which
men know in their bodies had a place among the elements.

Footnote 589:

  Cf. Introd. § VIII.

It is important to observe that the Love and Strife of Empedokles are no
incorporeal forces, but corporeal elements like the other four. At the
time, this was inevitable; nothing incorporeal had yet been dreamt of.
Naturally, Aristotle is puzzled by this characteristic of what he
regarded as efficient causes. “The Love of Empedokles,” he says[590] “is
both an efficient cause, for it brings things together, and a material
cause, for it is a part of the mixture.” And Theophrastos expressed the
same idea by saying[591] that Empedokles sometimes gave an efficient
power to Love and Strife, and sometimes put them on a level with the
other four. The verses of Empedokles himself leave no room for doubt
that the two were thought of as spatial and corporeal. All the six are
called “equal.” Love is said to be “equal in length and breadth” to the
others, and Strife is described as equal to each of them in weight (fr.
17).

Footnote 590:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 10. 1075 b 3.

Footnote 591:

  Theophr. _Phys. Op._ fr. 3 (_Dox._ p. 477); _ap._ Simpl. _Phys._ p.
  25, 21 (R. P. 166 b).

The function of Love is to produce union; that of Strife, to break it up
again. Aristotle, however, rightly points out that in another sense it
is Love that divides and Strife that unites. When the Sphere is broken
up by Strife, the result is that all the Fire, for instance, which was
contained in it comes together and becomes one; and again, when the
elements are brought together once more by Love, the mass of each is
divided. In another place, he says that, while Strife is assumed as the
cause of destruction, and does, in fact, destroy the Sphere, it really
gives birth to everything else in so doing.[592] It follows that we must
carefully distinguish between the Love of Empedokles and that
“attraction of like for like” to which he also attributed an important
part in the formation of the world. The latter is not an element
distinct from the others; it depends, we shall see, on the proper nature
of each element, and is only able to take effect when Strife divides the
Sphere. Love, on the contrary, is something that comes from outside and
produces an attraction of _unlikes_.

Footnote 592:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 4. 985 a 21; Γ, 4. 1000 a 24; b 9 (R. P. 166 i).

[Sidenote: Mixture and separation.]

109. But, when Strife has once separated the elements, what is it that
determines the direction of their motion? Empedokles seems to have given
no further explanation than that each was “running” in a certain
direction (fr. 53). Plato severely condemns this in the _Laws_,[593] on
the ground that no room is thus left for design. Aristotle also blames
him for giving no account of the Chance to which he ascribed so much
importance. Nor is the Necessity, of which he also spoke, further
explained.[594] Strife enters into the Sphere at a certain time in
virtue of Necessity, or “the mighty oath” (fr. 30); but we are left in
the dark as to the origin of this.

Footnote 593:

  Plato, _Laws_, x. 889 b. The reference is not to Empedokles
  exclusively, but the language shows that Plato is thinking mainly of
  him.

Footnote 594:

  Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ Β, 6. 334 a 1; _Phys._ Θ, 1. 252 a 5 (R. P. 166
  k).

The expression used by Empedokles to describe the movement of the
elements is that they “run through each other” (fr. 17, 34). Aristotle
tells us[595] that he explained mixture in general by “the symmetry of
pores.” And this is the true explanation of the “attraction of like for
like.” The “pores” of like bodies are, of course, much the same size,
and these bodies can therefore mingle easily. On the other hand, a finer
body will “run through” a coarse one without becoming mixed, and a
coarse body will not be able to enter into the pores of a finer one at
all. It will be observed that, as Aristotle says, this really implies
something like the atomic theory; but there is no evidence that
Empedokles himself was conscious of that. Another question raised by
Aristotle is even more instructive. Are the pores, he asks, empty or
full? If empty, what becomes of the denial of the void? If full, why
need we assume pores at all?[596] These questions Empedokles would have
found it hard to answer. They point to a real want of thoroughness in
his system, and mark it as a mere stage in the transition from Monism to
Atomism.

Footnote 595:

  _Ibid._ Α, 8. 324 b 34 (R. P. 166 h).

Footnote 596:

  Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ 326 b 6.

[Sidenote: The four periods.]

110. It will be clear from all this that we must distinguish four
periods in the cycle. First we have the Sphere, in which all the
elements are mixed together by Love. Secondly, there is the period when
Love is passing out and Strife coming in, when, therefore, the elements
are partially separated and partially combined. Thirdly, comes the
complete separation of the elements, when Love is outside the world, and
Strife has given free play to the attraction of like for like. Lastly,
we have the period when Love is bringing the elements together again,
and Strife is passing out. This brings us back in time to the Sphere,
and the cycle begins afresh. Now a world such as ours can exist only in
the second and fourth of these periods; and it is clear that, if we are
to understand Empedokles, we must discover in which of these we now are.
It seems to be generally supposed that we are in the fourth period;[597]
I hope to show that we are really in the second, that when Strife is
gaining the upper hand.

Footnote 597:

  This is the view of Zeller (pp. 785 sqq.), but he admits that the
  external testimony, especially that of Aristotle, is wholly in favour
  of the other. His difficulty is with the fragments, and if it can be
  shown that these can be interpreted in accordance with Aristotle’s
  statements, the question is settled. Aristotle was specially
  interested in Empedokles, and was not likely to misrepresent him on
  such a point.

[Sidenote: Our world the work of Strife.]

111. That a world of perishable things arises both in the second and
fourth period is distinctly stated by Empedokles (fr. 17), and it is
inconceivable that he himself had not made up his mind which of these
worlds is ours. Aristotle is clearly of opinion that it is the world
which arises when Strife is increasing. In one place, he says that
Empedokles “holds that the world is in a similar condition now in the
period of Strife as formerly in that of Love.”[598] In another, he tell
us that Empedokles omits the generation of things in the period of Love,
just because it is unnatural to represent this world, in which the
elements are separate, as arising from things in a state of
separation.[599] This remark can only mean that the scientific theories
contained in the poem of Empedokles assumed the increase of Strife, or,
in other words, that they represented the course of evolution as the
disintegration of the Sphere, not as the gradual coming together of
things from a state of separation.[600] That is only what we should
expect, if we are right in supposing that the problem he set himself to
solve was the origin of this world from the Sphere of Parmenides, and it
is also in harmony with the universal tendency of such speculations to
represent the world as getting worse rather than better. We have only to
consider, then, whether the details of the system bear out this general
view.

Footnote 598:

  Arist _de Gen. Corr._ Β, 6. 334 a 6: τὸν κόσμον ὁμοίως ἔχειν φησίν ἐπί
  τε τοῦ νείκους νῦν καὶ πρότερον ἐπὶ τῆς φιλίας.

Footnote 599:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Γ, 2. 301 a 14: ἐκ διεστώτων δὲ καὶ κινουμένων οὐκ
  εὔλογον ποιεῖν τὴν γένεσιν. διὸ καὶ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς παραλείπει τὴν ἐπὶ τῆς
  φιλότητος· οὐ γὰρ ἂν ἠδύνατο συστῆσαι τὸν οὐρανὸν ἐκ κεχωρισμένων μὲν
  κατασκευάζων, σύγκρισιν δὲ ποιῶν διὰ τὴν φιλότητα· ἐκ διακεκριμένων
  γὰρ συνέστηκεν ὁ κόσμος τῶν στοιχείων (“our world consists of the
  elements in a state of separation”), ὥστ’ ἀναγκαῖον γενέσθαι ἐξ ἑνὸς
  καὶ συγκεκριμένου.

Footnote 600:

  It need not mean that Empedokles said nothing about the world of Love
  at all; for he obviously says something of both worlds in fr. 17. It
  is enough to suppose that, having described both in general terms, he
  went on to treat the world of Strife in detail.

[Sidenote: Formation of the world by Strife.]

112. To begin with the Sphere, in which the “four roots of all things”
are mixed together, we note in the first place that it is called a god
in the fragments just as the elements are, and that Aristotle more than
once refers to it in the same way.[601] We must remember that Love
itself is a part of this mixture,[602] while Strife surrounds or
encompasses it on every side just as the Boundless encompasses the world
in earlier systems. Strife, however, is not boundless, but equal in bulk
to each of the four roots and to Love.

Footnote 601:

  Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ Β, 6. 333 b 21 (R. P. 168 e); _Met._ Β, 4. 1000
  a 29 (R. P. 166 i). Cf. Simpl. _Phys._ p. 1124, 1 (R. P. 167 b). In
  other places Aristotle speaks of it as “the One.” Cf. _de Gen. Corr._
  Α, 1. 315 a 7 (R. P. 168 e); _Met._ Β, 4. 1000 a 29 (R. P. 166 i); Α,
  4. 985 a 28 (R. P. _ib._). This, however, involves a slight
  Aristotelian “development.” It is not quite the same thing to say, as
  Empedokles does, that all things come together “into one,” and to say
  that they come together “into the One.” The latter expression suggests
  that they lose their distinct and proper character in the Sphere, and
  thus become something like Aristotle’s own “matter.” As has been
  pointed out (p. 265, _n._ 586), it is hard for Aristotle to grasp the
  conception of irreducible elements; but there can be no doubt that in
  the Sphere, as in their separation, the elements remain “what they
  are” for Empedokles. As Aristotle also knows quite well, the Sphere is
  a mixture. Compare the difficulties about the “One” of Anaximander
  discussed in Chap. I. § 15.

Footnote 602:

  This accounts for Aristotle’s statement, which he makes once
  positively (_Met._ Β, 1. 996 a 7) and once very doubtfully (_Met._ Γ,
  4. 1001 a 12), that Love was the substratum of the One in just the
  same sense as the Fire of Herakleitos, the Air of Anaximenes, or the
  Water of Thales. He thinks that all the elements become merged in
  Love, and so lose their identity. In this case, it is in Love he
  recognises his own “matter.”

At the appointed time, Strife begins to enter into the Sphere and Love
to go out of it (frs. 30, 31). The fragments by themselves throw little
light on this; but Aetios and the Plutarchean _Stromateis_ have between
them preserved a very fair tradition of what Theophrastos said on the
point.

  Empedokles held that Air was first separated out and secondly Fire.
  Next came Earth, from which, highly compressed as it was by the
  impetus of its revolution, Water gushed forth. From the water Mist was
  produced by evaporation. The heavens were formed out of the Air and
  the sun out of the Fire, while terrestrial things were condensed from
  the other elements. Aet. ii. 6. 3 (_Dox._ p. 334; R. P. 170).

  Empedokles held that the Air when separated off from the original
  mixture of the elements was spread round in a circle. After the Air,
  Fire running outwards, and not finding any other place, ran up under
  the solid that surrounded the Air.[603] There were two hemispheres
  revolving round the earth, the one altogether composed of fire, the
  other of a mixture of air and a little fire. The latter he supposed to
  be the Night. The origin of their motion he derived from the fact of
  fire preponderating in one hemisphere owing to its accumulation there.
  Ps.-Plut. _Strom._ fr. 10 (_Dox._ p. 582; R. P. 170 a).

Footnote 603:

  For the phrase τοῦ περὶ τὸν ἀέρα πάγου cf. Περὶ διαίτης, i. 10, 1,
  πρὸς τὸν περιέχοντα πάγον. _Et. M. s.v._ βηλὸς ... τὸν ἀνωτάτω πάγον
  καὶ περιέχοντα τὸν πάντα ἀέρα. This probably comes ultimately from
  Anaximenes. Cf. Chap. I. p. 82, _n._ 162.

The first of the elements to be separated out by Strife, then, was Air,
which took the outermost position surrounding the world (cf. fr. 38). We
must not, however, take the statement that it surrounded the world “in a
circle” too strictly. It appears that Empedokles regarded the heavens as
shaped like an egg.[604] Here, probably, we have a trace of Orphic
ideas. At any rate, the outer circle of the Air became solidified or
frozen, and we thus get a crystalline vault as the boundary of the
world. We note that it was Fire which solidified the Air and turned it
to ice. Fire in general had a solidifying power.[605]

Footnote 604:

  Aet. ii. 31, 4 (_Dox._ p. 363).

Footnote 605:

  Aet. ii. 11, 2 (R. P. 170 c).

In its upward rush Fire displaced a portion of the Air in the upper half
of the concave sphere formed by the frozen sky. This air then sunk
downwards, carrying with it a small portion of the fire. In this way,
two hemispheres were produced: one, consisting entirely of fire, the
diurnal hemisphere; the other, the nocturnal, consisting of air with a
little fire.

The accumulation of Fire in the upper hemisphere disturbs the
equilibrium of the heavens and causes them to revolve; and this
revolution not only produces the alternation of day and night, but by
its rapidity keeps the heavens and the earth in their places. This was
illustrated, Aristotle tells us, by the simile of a cup of water whirled
round at the end of a string.[606] The verses which contained this
remarkable account of so-called “centrifugal force” have been lost; but
the experimental illustration is in the manner of Empedokles.

[Sidenote: The sun, moon, stars, and earth.]

113. It will be observed that day and night have been explained without
reference to the sun. Day is produced by the light of the fiery diurnal
hemisphere, while night is the shadow thrown by the earth when the fiery
hemisphere is on the other side of it (fr. 48). What, then, is the sun?
The Plutarchean _Stromateis_[607] again give us the answer: “The sun is
not fire in substance, but a reflexion of fire like that which comes
from water.” Plutarch himself makes one of his personages say: “You
laugh at Empedokles for saying that the sun is a product of the earth,
arising from the reflexion of the light of heaven, and once more
‘flashes back to Olympos with untroubled countenance.’”[608] Aetios
says:[609] “Empedokles held that there were two suns: one, the
archetype, the fire in one hemisphere of the world, filling the whole
hemisphere always stationed opposite its own reflexion; the other, the
visible sun, its reflexion in the other hemisphere, that which is filled
with air mingled with fire, produced by the reflexion of the earth,
which is round, on the crystalline sun, and carried round by the motion
of the fiery hemisphere. Or, to sum it up shortly, the sun is a
reflexion of the terrestrial fire.”

Footnote 606:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 295 a 16 (R. P. 170 b). The experiment with
  τὸ ἐν τοῖς κυάθοις ὕδωρ, which κύκλῳ τοῦ κυάθου φερομένου πολλάκις
  κάτω τοῦ χαλκοῦ γινόμενον ὅμως οὐ φέρεται κάτω, reminds us of the
  experiment with the _klepsydra_ in fr. 100.

Footnote 607:

  [Plut.] _Strom._ fr. 10 (_Dox._ p. 582, 11; R. P. 170 c).

Footnote 608:

  Plut. _de Pyth. Or._ 400 b (R. P. 170 c). We must keep the MS. reading
  περὶ γῆν with Bernardakis and Diels. The reading περιαυγῆ in R. P. is
  a conjecture of Wyttenbach’s; but cf. Aet. ii. 20, 13, quoted in the
  next note.

Footnote 609:

  Aet. ii. 20, 13 (_Dox._ p. 350), Ἐμπεδοκλῆς δύο ἡλίους· τὸν μὲν
  ἀρχέτυπον, πῦρ ὂν ἐν τῷ ἑτέρῳ ἡμισφαιρίῳ τοῦ κόσμου, πεπληρωκὸς τὸ
  ἡμισφαίριον, αἰεὶ κατ’ ἀντικρὺ τῇ ἀνταυγείᾳ ἑαυτοῦ τεταγμένον· τὸν δὲ
  φαινόμενον, ἀνταύγειαν ἐν τῷ ἑτέρῳ ἡμισφαιρίῳ τῷ τοῦ ἀέρος τοῦ
  θερμομιγοῦς πεπληρωμένῳ, ἀπὸ κυκλοτεροῦς τῆς γῆς κατ’ ἀνάκλασιν
  γιγνομένην εἰς τὸν ἥλιον τὸν κρυσταλλοειδῆ, συμπεριελκομένην δὲ τῇ
  κινήσει τοῦ πυρίνου. ὡς δὲ βραχέως εἰρῆσθαι συντεμόντα, ἀνταύγειαν
  εἶναι τοῦ περὶ τὴν γὴν πυρὸς τὸν ἥλιον.

These passages, and especially the last, are by no means clear. The
reflexion which we call the sun cannot be in the hemisphere opposite to
the fiery one; for that is the nocturnal hemisphere. We must say rather
that the light of the fiery hemisphere is reflected by the earth on to
the fiery hemisphere itself in one concentrated flash. From this it
follows that the appearance which we call the sun is the same size as
the earth. We may explain the origin of this view as follows. It had
just been discovered that the moon shone by reflected light, and there
is always a tendency to give any novel theory a wider application than
it really admits of. In the early part of the fifth century B.C., men
saw reflected light everywhere; the Pythagoreans held a very similar
view, and when we come to them, we shall see why Aetios, or rather his
source, expresses it by speaking of “two suns.”

It was probably in this connexion that Empedokles announced that light
takes some time to travel, though its speed is so great as to escape our
perception.[610]

“The moon,” we are told, “was composed of air cut off by the fire; it
was frozen just like hail, and had its light from the sun.” It is, in
other words, a disc of frozen air, of the same substance as the solid
sky which surrounds the heavens. Diogenes says that Empedokles taught it
was smaller than the sun, and Aetios tells us it was only half as
distant from the earth.[611]

Empedokles did not attempt to explain the fixed stars by reflected
light, nor even the planets. They were fiery, made out of the fire which
the air carried with it when forced beneath the earth by the upward rush
of fire at the first separation, as we saw above. The fixed stars were
attached to the frozen air; the planets moved freely.[612]

Empedokles was acquainted (fr. 42) with the true theory of solar
eclipses, which, along with that of the moon’s light, was the great
discovery of this period. He also knew (fr. 48) that night is the
conical shadow of the earth, and not a sort of exhalation.

Wind was explained from the opposite motions of the fiery and airy
hemispheres. Rain was caused by the compression of the Air, which forced
any water there might be in it out of its pores in the form of drops.
Lightning was fire forced out from the clouds in much the same way.[613]

Footnote 610:

  Arist. _de Sensu_, 6. 446 a 28; _de An._ Β, 7. 418 b 20.

Footnote 611:

  [Plut.] _Strom._ fr. 10 (_Dox._ p. 582, 12; R. P. 170 c); Diog. viii.
  77; Aet. ii. 31, 1 (cf. _Dox._ p. 63).

Footnote 612:

  Aet. ii. 13, 2 and 11 (_Dox._ pp. 341 sqq.).

Footnote 613:

  Aet. iii. 3, 7; Arist. _Meteor._ Β, 9. 369 b 12, with Alexander’s
  commentary.

The earth was at first mixed with water, but the increasing compression
caused by the velocity of the world’s revolution made the water gush
forth, so that the sea is called “the sweat of the earth,” a phrase to
which Aristotle objects as a mere poetical metaphor. The saltness of the
sea was explained by the help of this analogy.[614]

Footnote 614:

  Arist. _Meteor._ Β, 3. 357 a 24; Aet. iii. 16, 3 (R. P. 170 b). Cf.
  the clear reference in Arist. _Meteor._ Β, 1. 353 b 11.

[Sidenote: Organic combinations.]

114. Empedokles went on to show how the four elements, mingled in
different proportions, gave rise to perishable things, such as bones,
flesh, and the like. These, of course, are the work of Love; but this in
no way contradicts the view taken above as to the period of evolution to
which this world belongs. Love is by no means banished from the world
yet, though one day it will be. At present, it is still able to form
combinations of elements; but, just because Strife is ever increasing,
they are all perishable.

The possibility of organic combinations depends upon the fact that there
is still water in the earth, and even fire (fr. 52). The warm springs of
Sicily were a proof of this, not to speak of Etna. These springs
Empedokles appears to have explained by one of his characteristic
images, drawn this time from the heating of warm baths.[615] It will be
noted that his similes are nearly all drawn from human inventions and
manufactures.

Footnote 615:

  Seneca, _Q. Nat._ iii. 24: “facere solemus dracones et miliaria et
  complures formas in quibus aere tenui fistulas struimus per declive
  circumdatas, ut saepe eundem ignem ambiens aqua per tantum fluat
  spatii quantum efficiendo calori sat est. frigida itaque intrat,
  effluit calida. idem sub terra Empedocles existimat fieri.”

[Sidenote: Plants.]

115. Plants and animals were formed from the four elements under the
influence of Love and Strife. The fragments which deal with trees and
plants are 77-81; and these, taken along with certain Aristotelian
statements and the doxographical tradition, enable us to make out pretty
fully what the theory was. The text of Aetios is very corrupt here; but
it may, perhaps, be rendered as follows:—

  Empedokles says that trees were the first living creatures to grow up
  out of the earth, before the sun was spread out, and before day and
  night were distinguished; that, from the symmetry of their mixture,
  they contain the proportion of male and female; that they grow, rising
  up owing to the heat which is in the earth, so that they are parts of
  the earth just as embryos are parts of the uterus; that fruits are
  excretions of the water and fire in plants, and that those which have
  a deficiency of moisture shed their leaves when that is evaporated by
  the summer heat, while those which have more moisture remain
  evergreen, as in the case of the laurel, the olive, and the palm; that
  the differences in taste are due to variations in the particles
  contained in the earth and to the plants drawing different particles
  from it, as in the case of vines; for it is not the difference of the
  vines that makes wine good, but that of the soil which nourishes them.
  Aet. v. 26, 4 (R. P. 172).

Aristotle finds fault with Empedokles for explaining the double growth
of plants, upwards and downwards, by the opposite natural motions of the
earth and fire contained in them.[616] For “natural motions” we must, of
course, substitute the attraction of like for like (§ 109). Theophrastos
says much the same thing.[617] The growth of plants, then, is to be
regarded as an incident in that separation of the elements which Strife
is bringing about. Some of the fire which is still beneath the earth
(fr. 52) meeting in its upward course with earth, still moist with water
and “running” down so as to “reach its own kind,” unites with it, under
the influence of the Love still left in the world, to form a temporary
combination, which we call a tree or a plant.

Footnote 616:

  Arist. _de An._ Β, 4. 415 b 28.

Footnote 617:

  Theophr. _de causis plantarum_, i. 12, 5.

At the beginning of the pseudo-Aristotelian _Treatise on Plants_,[618]
we are told that Empedokles attributed desire, sensation, and the
capacity for pleasure and pain to plants, and he rightly saw that the
two sexes are combined in them. This is mentioned by Aetios, and
discussed in the pseudo-Aristotelian treatise. If we may so far trust
that Byzantine translation from a Latin version of the Arabic,[619] we
get a most valuable hint as to the reason. Plants, we are there told,
came into being “in an imperfect state of the world,”[620] in fact, at a
time when Strife had not so far prevailed as to differentiate the sexes.
We shall see that the same thing applies to the original race of animals
in this world. It is strange that Empedokles never observed the actual
process of generation in plants, but confined himself to the statement
that they spontaneously “bore eggs” (fr. 79), that is to say, fruit.

Footnote 618:

  [Arist.] _de plantis_, Α, 1. 815 a 15.

Footnote 619:

  Alfred the Englishman translated the Arabic version into Latin in the
  reign of Henry III. It was retranslated from this version into Greek
  at the Renaissance by a Greek resident in Italy.

Footnote 620:

  Α, 2. 817 b 35, “mundo ... diminuto et non perfecto in complemento
  suo” (Alfred).

[Sidenote: Evolution of animals.]

116. The fragments which deal with the evolution of animals (57-62) must
be understood in the light of the statement (fr. 17) that there is a
double coming into being and a double passing away of mortal things.
Empedokles describes two processes of evolution, which take exactly
opposite courses, one of them belonging to the period of Love and the
other to that of Strife. The four stages of this double evolution are
accurately distinguished in a passage of Aetios,[621] and we shall see
that there is evidence for referring two of them to the second period of
the world’s history and two to the fourth.

Footnote 621:

  Aet. v. 19, 5 (R. P. 173). Plato has made use of the idea of reversed
  evolution in the _Politicus_ myth.

The first stage is that in which the various parts of animals arise
separately. It is that of heads without necks, arms without shoulders,
and eyes without foreheads (fr. 57). It is clear that this must be the
first stage in what we have called the fourth period of the world’s
history, that in which Love is coming in and Strife passing out.
Aristotle distinctly refers it to the period of Love, by which, as we
have seen, he means the period when Love is increasing.[622] It is in
accordance with this that he also says these scattered members were
subsequently put together by Love.[623]

Footnote 622:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Γ, 2. 300 b 29 (R. P. 173 a). Cf. _de Gen. An._ Α,
  17. 722 b 17, where fr. 57 is introduced by the words καθάπερ
  Ἐμπεδοκλῆς γεννᾷ ἐπὶ τῆς Φιλότητος. Simplicius, _de Caelo_, p. 587,
  18, expresses the same thing by saying μουνομελῆ ἔτι τὰ γυῖα ἀπὸ τῆς
  τοῦ Νείκους διακρίσεως ὄντα ἐπλανᾶτο.

Footnote 623:

  Arist. _de An._ Γ, 6. 430 a 30 (R. P. 173 a).

The second stage is that in which the scattered limbs are united. At
first, they were combined in all possible ways (fr. 59). There were oxen
with human heads, creatures with double faces and double breasts, and
all manner of monsters (fr. 61). Those of them that were fitted to
survive did so, while the rest perished. That is how the evolution of
animals took place in the period of Love.[624]

Footnote 624:

  This is well put by Simplicius, _de Caelo_, p. 587, 20. It is ὅτε τοῦ
  Νείκους ἐπεκράτει λοιπὸν ἡ Φιλότης ... ἐπὶ τῆς Φιλότητος οὖν ὁ
  Ἐμπεδοκλῆς ἐκεῖνα εἶπεν, οὐχ ὡς ἐπικρατούσης ἤδη τῆς Φιλότητος, ἀλλ’
  ὡς μελλούσης ἐπικρατεῖν. In _Phys._ p. 371, 33, he says the oxen with
  human heads were κατὰ τῆν τῆς Φιλίας ἀρχήν.

The third stage belongs to the period when the unity of the Sphere is
being destroyed by Strife. It is, therefore, the first stage in the
evolution of our present world. It begins with “whole-natured forms” in
which there is not as yet any distinction of sex or species.[625] They
are composed of earth and water, and are produced by the upward motion
of fire which is seeking to reach its like.

Footnote 625:

  Cf. Plato, _Symp._ 189 e.

In the fourth stage, the sexes and species have been separated, and new
animals no longer arise from the elements, but are produced by
generation. We shall see presently how Empedokles conceived this to
operate.

In both these processes of evolution, Empedokles was guided by the idea
of the survival of the fittest. Aristotle severely criticises this. “We
may suppose,” he says, “that all things have fallen out accidentally
just as they would have done if they had been produced for some end.
Certain things have been preserved because they had spontaneously
acquired a fitting structure, while those which were not so put together
have perished and are perishing, as Empedokles says of the oxen with
human faces.”[626] This, according to Aristotle, leaves too much to
chance. One curious instance has been preserved. Vertebration was
explained by saying that an early invertebrate animal tried to turn
round and broke its back in so doing. This was a favourable variation
and so survived.[627] It should be noted that it clearly belongs to the
period of Strife, and not, like the oxen with human heads, to that of
Love. The survival of the fittest was the law of both processes of
evolution.

Footnote 626:

  Arist. _Phys._ Β, 8. 198 b 29 (R. P. 173 a).

Footnote 627:

  Arist. _de Part. An._ Α, 1. 640 a 19.

117. The distinction of the sexes was an important result of the gradual
differentiation brought about by the entrance of Strife into the world.
Empedokles differed from the theory given by Parmenides in his Second
Part (§ 95) in holding that the warm element preponderated in the male
sex, and that males were conceived in the warmer part of the uterus (fr.
65). The fœtus was formed partly from the male and partly from the
female semen (fr. 63); and it was just the fact that the substance of a
new being’s body was divided between the male and the female that
produced desire when the two were brought together by sight (fr. 64). A
certain symmetry of the pores in the male and female semen is, of
course, necessary for procreation, and from its absence Empedokles
explained the sterility of mules. The children most resemble that parent
who contributed most to their formation. The influence of statues and
pictures was also noted, however, as modifying the appearance of the
offspring. Twins and triplets were due to a superabundance and division
of the semen.[628]

Footnote 628:

  Aet. v. 10, 1; 11, 1; 12, 2; 14, 2. Cf. Fredrich, _Hippokratische
  Untersuchungen_, pp. 126 sqq.

As to the growth of the fœtus in the uterus, Empedokles held that it was
enveloped in a membrane, and that its formation began on the
thirty-sixth day and was completed on the forty-ninth. The heart was
formed first, the nails and such things last. Respiration did not begin
till the time of birth, when the fluids round the fœtus were withdrawn.
Birth took place in the ninth or seventh month, because the day had been
originally nine months long, and afterwards seven. Milk arises on the
tenth day of the eighth month (fr. 68).[629]

Death was the final separation by Strife of the fire and earth in the
body, each of which had all along been striving to “reach its own kind.”
Sleep was a temporary separation to a certain extent of the fiery
element.[630] At death the animal is resolved into its elements, which
perhaps enter into fresh combinations, perhaps become permanently united
with “their own kind.” There can be no question here of an immortal
soul.

Even in life, we may see the attraction of like to like operating in
animals just as it did in the upward and downward growth of plants. Hair
is the same thing as foliage (fr. 82); and, generally speaking, the
fiery part of animals tends upwards and the earthy part downwards,
though there are exceptions, as may be seen in the case of certain
shell-fish (fr. 76), where the earthy part is above. These exceptions
are only possible because there is still a great deal of Love in the
world. We also see the attraction of like for like in the different
habits of the various species of animals. Those that have most fire in
them fly up into the air; those in which earth preponderates take to the
earth, as did the dog which always sat upon a tile.[631] Aquatic animals
are those in which water predominates. This does not, however, apply to
fishes, which are very fiery, and take to the water to cool
themselves.[632]

Footnote 629:

  Aet. v. 15, 3; 21, 1 (_Dox._ p. 190).

Footnote 630:

  Aet. v. 25, 4 (_Dox._ p. 437).

Footnote 631:

  Aet. v. 19, 5 (_Dox._ p. 431). Cf. _Eth. Eud._ Η, 1. 1235 a 11.

Footnote 632:

  Arist. _de Respir._ 14. 477 a 32; Theophr. _de causis plant._ i. 21.

Empedokles paid great attention to the subject of respiration, and his
very ingenious explanation of it has been preserved in a continuous form
(fr. 100). We breathe, he held, through all the pores of the skin, not
merely through the organs of respiration. The cause of the alternate
inspiration and expiration of the breath was the movement of the blood
from the heart to the surface of the body and back again, which was
explained by the _klepsydra_.

The nutrition and growth of animals is, of course, to be explained from
the attraction of like to like. Each part of the body has pores into
which the appropriate food will fit. Pleasure and pain were derived from
the absence or presence of like elements, that is, of nourishment which
would fit the pores. Tears and sweat arose from a disturbance which
curdled the blood; they were, so to say, the whey of the blood.[633]

Footnote 633:

  Nutrition, Aet. v. 27, 1; pleasure and pain, Aet. iv. 9, 15; v. 28, 1;
  tears and sweat, v. 22, 1.

[Sidenote: Perception.]

118. For the theory of perception held by Empedokles we have the
original words of Theophrastos:—

  Empedokles speaks in the same way of all the senses, and says that
  perception is due to the “effluences” fitting into the passages of
  each sense. And that is why one cannot judge the objects of another;
  for the passages of some of them are too wide and those of others too
  narrow for the sensible object, so that the latter either goes through
  without touching or cannot enter at all. R. P. 177 b.

  He tries, too, to explain the nature of sight. He says that the
  interior of the eye consists of fire, while round about it is earth
  and air,[634] through which its rarity enables the fire to pass like
  the light in lanterns (fr. 84). The passages of the fire and water are
  arranged alternately; through those of the fire we perceive light
  objects, through those of the water, dark; each class of objects fits
  into each class of passages, and the colours are carried to the sight
  by effluence. R. P. _ib._

  But eyes are not all composed in the same way; some are composed of
  like elements and some of opposite; some have the fire in the centre
  and some on the outside. That is why some animals are keen-sighted by
  day and others by night. Those which have less fire are keen-sighted
  in the daytime, for the fire within is brought up to an equality by
  that without; those which have less of the opposite (_i.e._ water), by
  night, for then their deficiency is supplemented. But, in the opposite
  case, each will behave in the opposite manner. Those eyes in which
  fire predominates will be dazzled in the daytime, since the fire being
  still further increased will stop up and occupy the pores of the
  water. Those in which water predominates will, he says, suffer the
  same at night, for the fire will be obstructed by the water. And this
  goes on till the water is separated off by the air, for in each case
  it is the opposite which is a remedy. The best tempered and the most
  excellent vision is one composed of both in equal proportions. This is
  practically what he says about sight.

  Hearing, he holds, is produced by sound outside, when the air moved by
  the voice sounds inside the ear; for the sense of hearing is a sort of
  bell sounding inside the ear, which he calls a “fleshy sprout.” When
  the air is set in motion it strikes upon the solid parts and produces
  a sound.[635] Smell, he holds, arises from respiration, and that is
  why those smell most keenly whose breath has the most violent motion,
  and why most smell comes from subtle and light bodies.[636] As to
  touch and taste, he does not lay down how nor by means of what they
  arise, except that he gives us an explanation applicable to all, that
  sensation is produced by adaptation to the pores. Pleasure is produced
  by what is like in its elements and their mixture; pain, by what is
  opposite. R. P. _ib._

  And he gives a precisely similar account of thought and ignorance.
  Thought arises from what is like and ignorance from what is unlike,
  thus implying that thought is the same, or nearly the same, as
  perception. For after enumerating how we know each thing by means of
  itself, he adds, “for all things are fashioned and fitted together out
  of these, and it is by these men think and feel pleasure and pain”
  (fr. 107). And for this reason we think chiefly with our blood, for in
  it of all parts of the body all the elements are most completely
  mingled. R. P. 178.

  All, then, in whom the mixture is equal or nearly so, and in whom the
  elements are neither at too great intervals nor too small or too
  large, are the wisest and have the most exact perceptions; and those
  who come next to them are wise in proportion. Those who are in the
  opposite condition are the most foolish. Those whose elements are
  separated by intervals and rare are dull and laborious; those in whom
  they are closely packed and broken into minute particles are
  impulsive, they attempt many things and finish few because of the
  rapidity with which their blood moves. Those who have a
  well-proportioned mixture in some one part of their bodies will be
  clever in that respect. That is why some are good orators and some
  good artificers. The latter have a good mixture in their hands, and
  the former in their tongues, and so with all other special capacities.
  R. P. _ib._

Footnote 634:

  That is, watery vapour, not the elemental air or αἰθήρ (§ 107). It is
  identical with the “water” mentioned below. It is unnecessary,
  therefore, to insert καὶ ὕδωρ after πῦρ with Karsten and Diels.

Footnote 635:

  Beare, p. 96, n. 1.

Footnote 636:

  _Ibid._ p. 133.

Perception, then, is due to the meeting of an element in us with the
same element outside. This takes place when the pores of the organ of
sense are neither too large nor too small for the “effluences” which all
things are constantly giving off (fr. 89). Smell was explained by
respiration. The breath drew in along with it the small particles which
fit into the pores. From Aetios[637] we learn that Empedokles proved
this by the example of people with a cold in their head, who cannot
smell, just because they have a difficulty in breathing. We also see
from fr. 101 that the scent of dogs was referred to in support of the
theory. Empedokles seems to have given no detailed account of smell, and
did not refer to touch at all.[638] Hearing was explained by the motion
of the air which struck upon the cartilage inside the ear and made it
swing and sound like a bell.[639]

Footnote 637:

  Aet. iv. 17, 2 (_Dox._ p. 407). Beare, p. 133.

Footnote 638:

  Beare, pp. 161-3, 180-81.

Footnote 639:

  _Ibid._ pp. 95 sqq.

The theory of vision[640] is more complicated; and, as Plato adopted
most of it, it is of great importance in the history of philosophy. The
eye was conceived, as by Alkmaion (§ 96),[641] to be composed of fire
and water. Just as in a lantern the flame is protected from the wind by
horn (fr. 84), so the fire in the iris is protected from the water which
surrounds it in the pupil by membranes with very fine pores, so that,
while the fire can pass out, the water cannot get in. Sight is produced
by the fire inside the eye going forth to meet the object. This seems
strange to us, because we are accustomed to the idea of images being
impressed upon the retina. But _looking_ at a thing no doubt seemed much
more like an action proceeding from the eye than a mere passive state.

Footnote 640:

  _Ibid._ pp. 14 sqq.

Footnote 641:

  Theophr. _de sens._ 26.

He was quite aware, too, that “effluences,” as he called them, came from
things to the eyes as well; for he defined colours as “effluences from
forms (or ‘things’) fitting into the pores and perceived.”[642] It is
not quite clear how these two accounts of vision were reconciled, or how
far we are entitled to credit Empedokles with the Platonic theory. The
statements which have been quoted seem to imply something very like
it.[643]

Footnote 642:

  The definition is quoted from Gorgias in Plato, _Men._ 76 d 4. All our
  MSS. have ἀπορραοὶ σχημάτων, but Ven. T has in the margin γρ.
  χρημάτων, which may well be an old tradition. The Ionic for “things”
  is χρήματα. See Diels, _Empedokles und Gorgias_, p. 439.

Footnote 643:

  See Beare, _Elementary Cognition_, p. 18.

Theophrastos tells us that Empedokles made no distinction between
thought and perception, a remark already made by Aristotle.[644] The
chief seat of perception was the blood, in which the four elements are
most evenly mixed, and especially the blood near the heart (fr.
105).[645] This does not, however, exclude the idea that other parts of
the body may perceive also; indeed, Empedokles held that all things have
their share of thought (fr. 103). But the blood was specially sensitive
because of its finer mixture.[646] From this it naturally follows that
Empedokles adopted the view, already maintained in the Second Part of
the poem of Parmenides (fr. 16), that our knowledge varies with the
varying constitution of our bodies (fr. 106). This consideration became
very important later on as one of the foundations of scepticism; but
Empedokles himself only drew from it the conclusion that we must make
the best use we can of our senses, and check one by the other (fr. 4).

Footnote 644:

  Arist. _de An._ Γ, 3. 427 a 21.

Footnote 645:

  R. P. 178 a. This was the characteristic doctrine of the Sicilian
  school, from whom it passed to Aristotle and the Stoics. Plato and
  Hippokrates, on the other hand, adopted the view of Alkmaion (§ 97)
  that the brain was the seat of consciousness. Kritias (Arist. _de An._
  Α, 2. 405 b 6) probably got the Sicilian doctrine from Gorgias. At a
  later date, Philistion of Syracuse, Plato’s friend, substituted the
  ψυχικὸν πνεῦμα (“animal spirits”) which circulated along with the
  blood.

Footnote 646:

  Beare, p. 253.

[Sidenote: Theology and religion.]

119. The theoretical theology of Empedokles reminds us of Xenophanes,
his practical religious teaching of Pythagoras and the Orphics. We are
told in the earlier part of the poem that certain “gods” are composed of
the elements; and that therefore though they “live long lives” they must
pass away (fr. 21). We have seen that the elements and the Sphere are
also called gods, but that is in quite another sense of the word.

If we turn to the religious teaching of the _Purifications_, we find
that everything turns on the doctrine of transmigration. On the general
significance of this enough has been said above (§ 42); the details
given by Empedokles are peculiar. According to a decree of Necessity,
“daemons” who have sinned are forced to wander from their home in heaven
for three times ten thousand seasons (fr. 115). He himself is such an
exiled divinity, and has fallen from his high estate because he put his
trust in raving Strife. The four elements toss him from one to the other
with loathing; and so he has not only been a human being and a plant,
but even a fish. The only way to purify oneself from the taint of
original sin was by the cultivation of ceremonial holiness, by
purifications, and abstinence from animal flesh. For the animals are our
kinsmen (fr. 137), and it is parricide to lay hands on them. In all this
there are, no doubt, certain points of contact with the cosmology. We
have the “mighty oath” (fr. 115; cf. fr. 30), the four elements, Hate as
the source of original sin, and Kypris as queen in the Golden Age (fr.
128). But these points are neither fundamental nor of great importance.
And it cannot be denied that there are really contradictions between the
two poems. That, however, is just what we should expect to find. All
through this period, there seems to have been a gulf between men’s
religious beliefs, if they had any, and their cosmological views. The
few points of contact which we have mentioned may have been sufficient
to hide this from Empedokles himself.




                               CHAPTER VI
                        ANAXAGORAS OF KLAZOMENAI


[Sidenote: Date.]

120. All that Apollodoros tells us with regard to the date of Anaxagoras
seems to rest upon the authority of Demetrios Phalereus, who said of
him, in the _Register of Archons_, that he began to study philosophy, at
the age of twenty, in the archonship of Kallias or Kalliades at Athens
(480-79 B.C.).[647] This date was probably derived from a calculation
based upon the philosopher’s age at the time of his trial, which
Demetrios had every opportunity of learning from sources no longer
extant. Apollodoros inferred that Anaxagoras was born in Ol. LXX.
(500-496 B.C.), and he adds that he died at the age of seventy-two in
Ol. LXXXVIII. 1 (428-27 B.C.).[648] He doubtless thought it natural that
he should not survive Perikles, and still more natural that he should
die the year Plato was born.[649] We have a further statement, of
doubtful origin, but probably due to Demetrios also, that Anaxagoras
lived at Athens for thirty years. This may be a genuine tradition;[650]
and if so, we get from about 462 to 432 B.C. as the time he lived there.

Footnote 647:

  Diog. ii. 7 (R. P. 148), with the perfectly certain emendation
  referred to _ib._ 148 c. The Athens of 480 B.C. would hardly be a
  suitable place to “begin philosophising”! For the variation in the
  archon’s name, see Jacoby, p. 244, n. 1.

Footnote 648:

  We must read ὀγδοηκοστῆς with Meursius to make the figures come right.

Footnote 649:

  On the statements of Apollodoros, see Jacoby, pp. 244 sqq.

Footnote 650:

  Diog., _loc. cit._ In any case, it is not a mere calculation of
  Apollodoros’s; for he would certainly have made Anaxagoras forty years
  old at the date of his arrival in Athens, and this would give _at
  most_ twenty-eight years for his residence there. The trial cannot
  have been later than 432 B.C., and may have been earlier.

There can be no doubt that these dates are very nearly right. Aristotle
tells us[651] that Anaxagoras was older than Empedokles, who was born
about 490 B.C. (§ 98); and Theophrastos said[652] that Empedokles was
born “not long after Anaxagoras.” Demokritos, too, said that he himself
was a young man in the old age of Anaxagoras, and he must have been born
about 460 B.C.[653]

Footnote 651:

  Arist. Met. Α, 3. 984 a 11 (R. P. 150 a).

Footnote 652:

  _Phys. Op._ fr. 3 (_Dox._ p. 477), _ap._ Simpl. _Phys._ p. 25, 19 (R.
  P. 162 e).

Footnote 653:

  Diog. ix. 41 (R. P. 187). On the date of Demokritos, see Chap. IX. §
  171.

[Sidenote: Early life.]

121. Anaxagoras was born at Klazomenai, and Theophrastos tells us that
his father’s name was Hegesiboulos.[654] The names of both father and
son have an aristocratic sound, and we may assume they belonged to a
family which had won distinction in the State. Nor need we reject the
tradition that Anaxagoras neglected his possessions to follow
science.[655] It is certain, at any rate, that in the fourth century he
was already regarded as the type of the man who leads the “theoretic
life.”[656] Of course the story of his contempt for worldly goods was
seized on later by the historical novelist and tricked out with the
usual apophthegms. These do not concern us here.

Footnote 654:

  _Phys. Op._ fr. 4 (_Dox._ p. 478), repeated by the doxographers.

Footnote 655:

  Plato, _Hipp. ma._ 283 a, τοὐναντίον γὰρ Ἀναξαγόρᾳ φασὶ συμβῆναι ἢ
  ὑμῖν· καταλειφθέντων γὰρ αὐτῷ παλλῶν χρημάτων καταμελῆσαι καὶ ἀπολέσαι
  πάντα· οὕτως αὐτὸν ἀνόητα σοφίζεσθαι. Cf. Plut. _Per._ 16.

Footnote 656:

  Arist. _Eth. Nic._ Κ, 9. 1179 a 13. Cf. _Eth. Eud._ Α, 4. 1215 b 6 and
  15, 1216 a 10.

One incident belonging to the early manhood of Anaxagoras is recorded,
namely, his observation of the huge meteoric stone which fell into the
Aigospotamos in 468-67 B.C.[657] Our authorities tell us that he
predicted this phenomenon, which is plainly absurd. But we shall see
reason to believe that it may have occasioned one of his most striking
departures from the earlier cosmology, and led to his adoption of the
very view for which he was condemned at Athens. At all events, the fall
of the stone made a profound impression at the time, and it was still
shown to tourists in the days of Pliny and Plutarch.[658]

Footnote 657:

  Diog. ii. 10 (R. P. 149 a). Pliny, _N.H._ ii. 149, gives the date as
  Ol. LXXVIII. 2; and Eusebios gives it under Ol. LXXVIII. 3. But cf.
  _Marm. Par. 57_, ἀφ’ οὗ ἐν Αἰγὸς ποταμοῖς ὁ λίθος ἔπεσε ... ἔτη ΗΗΠ,
  ἄρχοντος Ἀθήνησι Θεαγενίδου, which is 468-67 B.C. The text of Diog.
  ii. 11 is corrupt. For suggested restorations, see Jacoby, p. 244, n.
  2; and Diels, _Vors._ p. 294, 28.

Footnote 658:

  Pliny, _loc. cit._, “qui lapis etiam nunc ostenditur magnitudine vehis
  colore adusto.” Cf. Plut. _Lys._ 12, καὶ δείκνυται ... ἔτι νῦν.

[Sidenote: Relation to the Ionic school.]

122. The doxographers speak of Anaxagoras as the pupil of
Anaximenes.[659] This is, of course, out of the question; Anaximenes
most probably died before Anaxagoras was born. But it is not enough to
say that the statement arose from the fact that the name of Anaxagoras
followed that of Anaximenes in the _Successions_. That is true, no
doubt; but it is not the whole truth. We have its original source in a
fragment of Theophrastos himself, which states that Anaxagoras had been
“an associate of the philosophy of Anaximenes.”[660] Now this expression
has a very distinct meaning if we accept the view as to “schools” of
science set forth in the Introduction (§ XIV.). It means that the old
Ionic school survived the destruction of Miletos in 494 B.C., and
continued to flourish in the other cities of Asia. It means, further,
that it produced no man of distinction after its third great
representative, and that “the philosophy of Anaximenes” was still taught
by whoever was now at the head of the society.

Footnote 659:

  Cicero, _de nat. D._ i. 26 (after Philodemos), “Anaxagoras qui accepit
  ab Anaximene disciplinam (_i.e._ διήκουσε)”; Diog. i. 13 (R. P. 4) and
  ii. 6; Strabo, xiv. p. 645, Κλαζομένιος δ’ ἦν ἀνὴρ ἐπιφανὴς Ἀναξαγόρας
  ὁ φυσικός Ἀναξιμένους ὁμιλητής; Euseb. _P.E._ p. 504; [Galen] _Hist.
  Phil._ 3; Augustine, _de Civ. Dei_, viii. 2.

Footnote 660:

  _Phys. Op._ fr. 4 (_Dox._ p. 478), Ἀναξαγόρας μὲν γὰρ Ἡγησιβούλου
  Κλαζομένιος κοινωνήσας τῆς Ἀναξιμένους φιλοσοφίας κ.τ.λ. In his fifth
  edition (p. 973, n. 2) Zeller adopts the view given in the text, and
  confirms it by comparing the very similar statement as to Leukippos,
  κοινωνήσας Παρμενίδῃ τὴς φιλοσοφίας. See below, Chap. IX. § 172.

At this point, it may be well to indicate briefly the conclusions to
which we shall come in the next few chapters with regard to the
development of philosophy during the first half of the fifth century
B.C. We shall find that, while the old Ionic school was still capable of
training great men, it was now powerless to keep them. Anaxagoras went
his own way; Melissos and Leukippos, though they still retained enough
of the old views to bear witness to the source of their inspiration,
were too strongly influenced by the Eleatic dialectic to remain content
with the theories of Anaximenes. It was left to second-rate minds like
Diogenes to champion the orthodox system, while third-rate minds like
Hippon of Samos even went back to the cruder theory of Thales. The
details of this anticipatory sketch will become clearer as we go on; for
the present, it is only necessary to call the reader’s attention to the
fact that the old Ionic Philosophy now forms a sort of background to our
story, just as Orphic and Pythagorean religious ideas have done in the
preceding chapters.

[Sidenote: Anaxagoras at Athens.]

123. Anaxagoras was the first philosopher to take up his abode at
Athens. We are not to suppose, however, that he was attracted thither by
anything in the character of the Athenians. No doubt Athens had now
become the political centre of the Hellenic world; but it had not yet
produced a single scientific man. On the contrary, the temper of the
citizen body was and remained hostile to free inquiry of any kind.
Sokrates, Anaxagoras, and Aristotle fell victims in different degrees to
the bigotry of the democracy, though, of course, their offence was
political rather than religious. They were condemned not as heretics,
but as innovators in the _state_ religion. Still, as a recent historian
observes, “Athens in its flourishing period was far from being a place
for free inquiry to thrive unchecked.”[661] It is this, no doubt, that
has been in the minds of those writers who have represented philosophy
as something un-Greek. It was in reality thoroughly Greek, though it was
thoroughly un-Athenian.

Footnote 661:

  Holm, _Gr. Gesch._ ii. 334. The whole chapter is well worth reading in
  this connexion.

It seems most reasonable to suppose that Perikles himself brought
Anaxagoras to Athens, just as he brought everything else he could. Holm
has shown with much skill how the aim of that great statesman was, so to
say, to Ionise his fellow-citizens, to impart to them something of the
flexibility and openness of mind which characterised their kinsmen
across the sea. It is possible that it was Aspasia of Miletos who
introduced the Ionian philosopher to the Periklean circle, of which he
was henceforth a chief ornament. The Athenians in derision gave him the
nickname of Nous.[662]

Footnote 662:

  Plut. _Per._ 4 (R. P. 148 c). I follow Zeller, p. 975, n. 1 (Eng.
  trans. ii. p. 327, n. 4), in regarding the sobriquet as derisive.

The close relation in which Anaxagoras stood to Perikles is placed
beyond the reach of doubt by the testimony of Plato. In the
_Phaedrus_[663] he makes Sokrates say: “For all arts that are great,
there is need of talk and discussion on the parts of natural science
that deal with things on high; for that seems to be the source which
inspires high-mindedness and effectiveness in every direction. Perikles
added this very acquirement to his original gifts. He fell in, it seems,
with Anaxagoras, who was a scientific man; and, satiating himself with
the theory of things on high, and having attained to a knowledge of the
true nature of intellect and folly, which were just what the discourses
of Anaxagoras were mainly about, he drew from that source whatever was
of a nature to further him in the art of speech.”

Footnote 663:

  270 a (R. P. 148 c).

A more difficult question is the alleged relation of Euripides to
Anaxagoras. The oldest authority for it is Alexander of Aitolia, poet
and librarian, who lived at the court of Ptolemy Philadelphos (_c._ 280
B.C.). He referred to Euripides as the “nursling of brave
Anaxagoras.”[664] A great deal of ingenuity has been expended in trying
to find the system of Anaxagoras in the choruses of Euripides; but, it
must now be admitted, without result.[665] The famous fragment on the
blessedness of the scientific life might just as well refer to any other
cosmologist as to Anaxagoras, and indeed suggests more naturally a
thinker of a more primitive type.[666] On the other hand, there is one
fragment which distinctly expounds the central thought of Anaxagoras,
and could hardly be referred to any one else.[667] We may conclude,
then, that Euripides knew the philosopher and his views, but it is not
safe to go further.

Footnote 664:

  Gell. xv. 20, “Alexander autem Aetolus hos de Euripide versus
  composuit”; ὁ δ’ Ἀναξαγόρου τρόφιμος χαιοῦ (so Valckenaer for ἀρχαίου)
  κ.τ.λ.

Footnote 665:

  The question was first raised by Valckenaer (_Diatribe_, p. 26). Cf.
  also Wilamowitz, _Analecta Euripidea_, pp. 162 sqq.

Footnote 666:

  See Introd. p. 12, _n._ 14. The fragment is quoted R. P. 148 c. The
  words ἀθανάτου φύσεως and κόσμον ἀγήρω carry us back rather to the
  older Milesians.

Footnote 667:

  R. P. 150 b.

[Sidenote: The trial.]

124. Shortly before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War, the enemies
of Perikles began a series of attacks upon him through his friends.[668]
Pheidias was the first to suffer, and Anaxagoras was the next. That he
was an object of special hatred to the religious party need not surprise
us, even though the charge made against him does not suggest that he
went out of his way to hurt their susceptibilities. The details of the
trial are somewhat obscure, but we can make out a few points. The first
step taken was the introduction of a psephism by Diopeithes—the same
whom Aristophanes laughs at in _The Birds_[669]—enacting that an
impeachment should be brought against those who did not practise
religion, and taught theories about “the things on high.”[670] What
happened at the actual trial is very differently related. Our
authorities give hopelessly conflicting accounts.[671] It is no use
attempting to reconcile these; it is enough to insist upon what is
certain. Now we know from Plato what the accusation was.[672] It was
that Anaxagoras taught the sun was a red-hot stone, and the moon earth;
and we shall see that he certainly did hold these views (§ 133). For the
rest, the most plausible account is that he was got out of prison and
sent away by Perikles.[673] We know that such things were possible at
Athens.

Footnote 668:

  Both Ephoros (represented by Diod. xii. 38) and the source of Plut.
  _Per._ 32 made these attacks immediately precede the war. This may,
  however, be pragmatic; they perhaps occurred earlier.

Footnote 669:

  _Birds_, 988. Aristophanes had no respect for orthodoxy when combined
  with democratic opinions.

Footnote 670:

  Plut. _Per._ 32 (R. P. 148), where some of the original words have
  been preserved. The phrase τὰ θεῖα and the word μετάρσια are archaisms
  from the ψήφισμα.

Footnote 671:

  These accounts are repeated by Diog. ii. 12-14. It is worth while to
  put the statements of Satyros and Sotion side by side in order to show
  the unsatisfactory character of the biographical tradition:—

             │         _Sotion._          │          _Satyros._
 _Accuser._  │Kleon.                      │Thoukydides s. of Melesias.
 _Charge._   │Calling the sun a red-hot   │Impiety and Medism.
             │mass.                       │
 _Sentence._ │Fined five talents.         │Sentenced to death in absence.

  Hermippos represents Anaxagoras as already in prison under sentence of
  death when Perikles shamed the people into letting him off. Lastly,
  Hieronymos says he never was condemned at all. Perikles brought him
  into court thin and wasted by disease, and the judges acquitted him
  out of compassion! The Medism alleged by Satyros no doubt comes from
  Stesimbrotos, who made Anaxagoras the friend of Themistokles instead
  of Perikles. This, too, explains the accuser’s name (Busolt, _Gr.
  Gesch._ p. 306, n. 3).

Footnote 672:

  _Apol._ 26 d.

Footnote 673:

  Plut. _Nic._ 23 (R. P. 148 c). Cf. _Per._ 32 (R. P. 148).

Driven from his adopted home, Anaxagoras naturally went back to Ionia,
where at least he would be free to teach what he pleased. He settled at
Lampsakos, and we shall see reason to believe that he founded a school
there.[674] Probably he did not live long after his exile. The
Lampsakenes erected an altar to his memory in their market-place,
dedicated to Mind and Truth; and the anniversary of his death was long
kept as a holiday for school-children, it was said at his own
request.[675]

Footnote 674:

  See the account of Archelaos in Chap. X. § 191.

Footnote 675:

  The oldest authority for the honours paid to Anaxagoras is Alkidamas,
  the pupil of Gorgias, who said these were still kept up in his own
  time. Arist. _Rhet._ Β, 23. 1398 b 15.

[Sidenote: Writings.]

125. Diogenes includes Anaxagoras in his list of philosophers who left
only a single book, and he has also preserved the accepted criticism of
it, namely, that it was written “in a lofty and agreeable style.”[676]
There is no evidence of any weight to set against this testimony, which
comes ultimately from the librarians of Alexandria.[677] The story that
Anaxagoras wrote a treatise on perspective as applied to scene-painting
is most improbable;[678] and the statement that he composed a
mathematical work dealing with the quadrature of the circle is due to
misunderstanding of an expression in Plutarch.[679] We learn from the
passage in the _Apology_, referred to above, that the works of
Anaxagoras could be bought at Athens for a single drachma; and that the
book was of some length may be gathered from the way in which Plato goes
on to speak of it.[680] In the sixth century A.D. Simplicius had access
to a copy, doubtless in the library of the Academy;[681] and it is to
him we owe the preservation of all our fragments, with one or two very
doubtful exceptions. Unfortunately his quotations seem to be confined to
the First Book, that dealing with general principles, so that we are
left somewhat in the dark with regard to the treatment of details. This
is the more unfortunate, as it was Anaxagoras who first gave the true
theory of the moon’s light and, therefore, the true theory of eclipses.

Footnote 676:

  Diog. i. 16; ii. 6 (R. P. 5; 153).

Footnote 677:

  Schaubach (_An. Claz. Fragm._ p. 57) fabricated a work entitled τὸ
  πρὸς Λεχίνεον out of the pseudo-Aristotelian _de plantis_, 817 a 27.
  But the Latin version of Alfred, which is the original of the Greek,
  has simply _et ideo dicit lechineon_; and this appears to be due to a
  failure to make out the Arabic text from which the Latin version was
  derived. Cf. Meyer, _Gesch. d. Bot._ i. 60.

Footnote 678:

  It comes from Vitruvius, vii. pr. 11. A forger, seeking to decorate
  his production with a great name, would think naturally of the
  philosopher who was said to have taught Euripides.

Footnote 679:

  Plut. _de Exilio_, 607 f. The words merely mean that he used to draw
  mathematical figures relating to the quadrature of the circle on the
  prison floor.

Footnote 680:

  _Apol._ 26 d-e. The expression βιβλία perhaps implies that it filled
  more than one roll.

Footnote 681:

  Simplicius also speaks of βιβλία.

[Sidenote: The Fragments.]

126. I give the fragments according to the text and arrangement of
Diels, who has made some of them completely intelligible for the first
time.

  (1) All things were together infinite both in number and in smallness;
  for the small too was infinite. And, when all things were together,
  none of them could be distinguished for their smallness. For air and
  aether prevailed over all things, being both of them infinite; for
  amongst all things these are the greatest both in quantity and
  size.[682] R. P. 151.

  (2) For air and aether are separated off from the mass that surrounds
  the world, and the surrounding mass is infinite in quantity. R. P.
  _ib._

  (3) Nor is there a least of what is small, but there is always a
  smaller; for it cannot be that what is should cease to be by being
  cut.[683] But there is also always something greater than what is
  great, and it is equal to the small in amount, and, compared with
  itself, each thing is both great and small. R. P. 159 a.

  (4) And since these things are so, we must suppose that there are
  contained many things and of all sorts in the things that are uniting,
  seeds of all things, with all sorts of shapes and colours and savours
  (R. P. _ib._), and that men have been formed in them, and the other
  animals that have life, and that these men have inhabited cities and
  cultivated fields as with us; and that they have a sun and a moon and
  the rest as with us; and that their earth brings forth for them many
  things of all kinds of which they gather the best together into their
  dwellings, and use them (R. P. 160 b). Thus much have I said with
  regard to separating off, to show that it will not be only with us
  that things are separated off, but elsewhere too.

  But before they were separated off, when all things were together, not
  even was any colour distinguishable; for the mixture of all things
  prevented it—of the moist and the dry, and the warm and the cold, and
  the light and the dark, and of much earth that was in it, and of a
  multitude of innumerable seeds in no way like each other. For none of
  the other things either is like any other. And these things being so,
  we must hold that all things are in the whole. R. P. 151.[684]

  (5) And those things having been thus decided, we must know that all
  of them are neither more nor less; for it is not possible for them to
  be more than all, and all are always equal. R. P. 151.

  (6) And since the portions of the great and of the small are equal in
  amount, for this reason, too, all things will be in everything; nor is
  it possible for them to be apart, but all things have a portion of
  everything. Since it is impossible for there to be a least thing, they
  cannot be separated, nor come to be by themselves; but they must be
  now, just as they were in the beginning, all together. And in all
  things many things are contained, and an equal number both in the
  greater and in the smaller of the things that are separated off.

  (7) ... So that we cannot know the number of the things that are
  separated off, either in word or deed.

  (8) The things that are in one world are not divided nor cut off from
  one another with a hatchet, neither the warm from the cold nor the
  cold from the warm. R. P. 155 e.

  (9) ... as these things revolve and are separated out by the force and
  swiftness. And the swiftness makes the force. Their swiftness is not
  like the swiftness of any of the things that are now among men, but in
  every way many times as swift.

  (10) How can hair come from what is not hair, or flesh from what is
  not flesh? R. P. 155 f, n. 1.

  (11) In everything there is a portion of everything except Nous, and
  there are some things in which there is Nous also. R. P. 160 b.

  (12) All other things partake in a portion of everything, while Nous
  is infinite and self-ruled, and is mixed with nothing, but is alone,
  itself by itself. For if it were not by itself, but were mixed with
  anything else, it would partake in all things if it were mixed with
  any; for in everything there is a portion of everything, as has been
  said by me in what goes before, and the things mixed with it would
  hinder it, so that it would have power over nothing in the same way
  that it has now being alone by itself. For it is the thinnest of all
  things and the purest, and it has all knowledge about everything and
  the greatest strength; and Nous has power over all things, both
  greater and smaller, that have life. And Nous had power over the whole
  revolution, so that it began to revolve in the beginning. And it began
  to revolve first from a small beginning; but the revolution now
  extends over a larger space, and will extend over a larger still. And
  all the things that are mingled together and separated off and
  distinguished are all known by Nous. And Nous set in order all things
  that were to be, and all things that were and are not now and that
  are, and this revolution in which now revolve the stars and the sun
  and the moon, and the air and the aether that are separated off. And
  this revolution caused the separating off, and the rare is separated
  off from the dense, the warm from the cold, the light from the dark,
  and the dry from the moist. And there are many portions in many
  things. But no thing is altogether separated off nor distinguished
  from anything else except Nous. And all Nous is alike, both the
  greater and the smaller; while nothing else is like anything else, but
  each single thing is and was most manifestly those things of which it
  has most in it R. P. 155.

  (13) And when Nous began to move things, separating off took place
  from all that was moved, and so far as Nous set in motion all was
  separated. And as things were set in motion and separated, the
  revolution caused them to be separated much more.

  (14) And Nous, which ever is, is certainly there, where everything
  else is, in the surrounding mass, and in what has been united with it
  and separated off from it.[685]

  (15) The dense and the moist and the cold and the dark came together
  where the earth is now, while the rare and the warm and the dry (and
  the bright) went out towards the further part of the aether.[686] R.
  P. 156.

  (16) From these as they are separated off earth is solidified; for
  from mists water is separated off, and from water earth. From the
  earth stones are solidified by the cold, and these rush outwards more
  than water. R. P. 156.

  (17) The Hellenes follow a wrong usage in speaking of coming into
  being and passing away; for nothing comes into being or passes away,
  but there is mingling and separation of things that are. So they would
  be right to call coming into being mixture, and passing away
  separation. R. P. 150.

  (18) It is the sun that puts brightness into the moon.

  (19) We call rainbow the reflexion of the sun in the clouds. Now it is
  a sign of storm; for the water that flows round the cloud causes wind
  or pours down in rain.

  (20) With the rise of the Dogstar men begin the harvest; with its
  setting they begin to till the fields. It is hidden for forty days and
  nights.

  (21) From the weakness of our senses we are not able to judge the
  truth.

  (21_a_) What appears is a vision of the unseen.

  (21_b_) (We can make use of the lower animals) because we use our own
  experience and memory and wisdom and art.

  (22) What is called “birds’ milk” is the white of the egg.

Footnote 682:

  Simplicius tells us that this fragment was at the beginning of Book I.
  The familiar sentence quoted by Diog. ii. 6 (R. P. 153) is not a
  fragment of Anaxagoras, but a summary, like the πάντα ῥεῖ ascribed to
  Herakleitos (Chap. III. p. 162).

Footnote 683:

  Zeller’s τομῇ still seems to me a convincing correction of the MS. τὸ
  μή, which Diels retains.

Footnote 684:

  I had already pointed out in the first edition that Simplicius quotes
  this three times as a continuous fragment, and that we are not
  entitled to break it up. Diels now prints it as a single passage.

Footnote 685:

  Simplicius gives fr. 14 thus (p. 157, 5): ὁ δὲ νοῦς ὅσα ἐστί τε κάρτα
  καὶ νῦν ἐστιν. Diels now reads ὁ δὲ νοῦς, ὃς ἀ<εί> ἐστί, τὸ κάρτα καὶ
  νῦν ἐστιν. The correspondence of ἀεὶ ... καὶ νῦν is strongly in favour
  of this.

Footnote 686:

  On the text of fr. 15, see R. P. 156 a. I have followed Schorn in
  adding καὶ τὸ λαμπρόν from Hippolytos.

[Sidenote: Anaxagoras and his predecessors.]

127. The system of Anaxagoras, like that of Empedokles, aimed at
reconciling the Eleatic doctrine that corporeal substance is
unchangeable with the existence of a world which everywhere presents the
appearance of coming into being and passing away. The conclusions of
Parmenides are frankly accepted and restated. Nothing can be added to
all things; for there cannot be more than all, and all is always equal
(fr. 5). Nor can anything pass away. What men commonly call coming into
being and passing away is really mixture and separation (fr. 17).

This last fragment reads almost like a prose paraphrase of Empedokles
(fr. 9); and it is in every way probable that Anaxagoras derived his
theory of mixture from his younger contemporary, whose poem was most
likely published before his own treatise.[687] We have seen how
Empedokles sought to save the world of appearance by maintaining that
the opposites—hot and cold, moist and dry—were _things_, each one of
which was real in the Parmenidean sense. Anaxagoras regarded this as
inadequate. Everything changes into everything else,[688] the things of
which the world is made are not “cut off with a hatchet” (fr. 8) in this
way. On the contrary, the true formula must be: _There is a portion of
everything in everything_ (fr. 11).

Footnote 687:

  This is doubtless the meaning of the words τοῖς ἔργοις ὕστερος in
  Arist. _Met._ Α, 3. 984 a 12 (R. P. 150 a); though ἔργα certainly does
  not mean “writings” or _opera omnia_, but simply “achievements.” The
  other possible interpretations are “more advanced in his views” and
  “inferior in his teaching” (Zeller, p. 1023, n. 2).

Footnote 688:

  Arist. _Phys._ Α, 4. 187 b 1 (R. P. 155 a).

[Sidenote: “Everything in everything.”]

128. A part of the argument by which Anaxagoras sought to prove this
point has been preserved in a corrupt form by Aetios, and Diels has
recovered some of the original words from the scholiast on St. Gregory
Nazianzene. “We use a simple nourishment,” he said, “when we eat the
fruit of Demeter or drink water. But how can hair be made of what is not
hair, or flesh of what is not flesh?” (fr. 10).[689] That is just the
sort of question the early Milesians must have asked, only the
physiological interest has now definitely replaced the meteorological.
We shall find a similar train of reasoning in Diogenes of Apollonia (fr.
2).

Footnote 689:

  Aet. i. 3, 5 (_Dox._ p. 279). See R. P. 155 f and n. 1. I read καρπὸν
  with Usener.

The statement that there is a portion of everything in everything, is
not to be understood as referring simply to the original mixture of
things before the formation of the worlds (fr. 1). On the contrary, even
now “all things are together,” and everything, however small and however
great, has an equal number of “portions” (fr. 6). A smaller particle of
matter could only contain a smaller number of portions, if one of those
portions ceased to be; but if anything _is_, in the full Parmenidean
sense, it is impossible that mere division should make it cease to be
(fr. 3). Matter is infinitely divisible; for there is no least thing,
any more than there is a greatest. But however great or small a body may
be, it contains just the same number of “portions,” that is, a portion
of everything.

[Sidenote: The portions.]

129. What are these “things” of which everything contains a portion? It
once was usual to represent the theory of Anaxagoras as if he had said
that wheat, for instance, contained small particles of flesh, blood,
bones, and the like; but we have just seen that matter is infinitely
divisible (fr. 3), and that there are as many “portions” in the smallest
particle as in the greatest (fr. 6). This is fatal to the old view. If
everything were made up of minute particles of everything else, we could
certainly arrive at a point where everything was “unmixed,” if only we
carried division far enough.

This difficulty can only be solved in one way.[690] In fr. 8 the
examples given of things which are not “cut off from one another with a
hatchet” are the hot and the cold; and elsewhere (frs. 4, 15), mention
is made of the other traditional “opposites.” Aristotle says that, if we
suppose the first principles to be infinite, they may either be one in
kind, as with Demokritos, or opposite.[691] Simplicius, following
Porphyry and Themistios, refers the latter view to Anaxagoras;[692] and
Aristotle himself implies that the opposites of Anaxagoras had as much
right to be called first principles as the “homoeomeries.”[693]

Footnote 690:

  See Tannery, _Science hellène_, pp. 283 sqq. I still think that
  Tannery’s interpretation is substantially right, though his statement
  of it requires some modification.

Footnote 691:

  Arist. _Phys._ Α, 2. 184 b 21, ἢ οὕτως ὥσπερ Δημόκριτος, τὸ γένος ἔν,
  σχήματι δὲ ἢ εἴδει διαφερούσας, ἢ καὶ ἐναντίας.

Footnote 692:

  _Phys._ p. 44, 1. He goes on to refer to θερμότητας ... καὶ ψυχρότητας
  ξηρότητάς τε καὶ ὑγρότητας μανότητάς τε καὶ πυκνότητας καὶ τὰς ἄλλας
  κατὰ ποιότητα ἐναντιότητας. He observes, however, that Alexander
  rejected this interpretation and took διαφερούσας ἢ καὶ ἐναντίας
  closely together as both referring to Demokritos.

Footnote 693:

  _Phys._ Α, 4. 187 a 25, τὸν μὲν (Ἀναξαγόραν) ἄπειρα ποιεῖν τά τε
  ὁμοιομερῆ καὶ τἀναντία. Aristotle’s own theory only differs from this
  in so far as he makes ὕλη prior to the ἐναντία.

It is of those opposites, then, and not of the different forms of
matter, that everything contains a portion. Every particle, however
large or however small, contains every one of those opposite qualities.
That which is hot is also to a certain extent cold. Even snow,
Anaxagoras affirmed, was black;[694] that is, even the white contains a
certain portion of the opposite quality. It is enough to indicate the
connexion of this with the views of Herakleitos (§ 80).[695]

Footnote 694:

  Sext. _Pyrrh._ i. 33 (R. P. 161 b).

Footnote 695:

  The connexion was already noted by the eclectic Herakleitean to whom I
  attribute Περὶ διαίτης, i. 3-4 (see above, Chap. III. p. 167, _n._
  383). Cf. the words ἔχει δὲ ἀπ’ ἀλλήλων τὸ μὲν πῦρ ἀπὸ τοῦ ὕδατος τὸ
  ὑγρόν· ἔνι γὰρ ἐν πυρὶ ὑγρότης· τὸ δὲ ὕδωρ ἀπὸ τοῦ πυρὸς τὸ ξηρόν· ἔνι
  γὰρ καὶ ἐν ὕδατι ξηρόν.

[Sidenote: Seeds.]

130. The difference, then, between the theory of Anaxagoras and that of
Empedokles is this. Empedokles had taught that, if you divide the
various things which make up this world, and in particular the parts of
the body, such as flesh, bones, and the like, far enough, you come to
the four “roots” or elements, which are, accordingly, the ultimate
reality. Anaxagoras held that, however far you may divide any of these
things—and they are infinitely divisible—you never come to a part so
small that it does not contain portions of all the opposites. The
smallest portion of bone is still bone. On the other hand, everything
can pass into everything else just because the “seeds,” as he called
them, of each form of matter contain a portion of everything, that is,
of all the opposites, though in different proportions. If we are to use
the word “element” at all, it is these seeds that are the elements in
the system of Anaxagoras.

Aristotle expresses this by saying that Anaxagoras regards the ὁμοιομερῆ
as στοιχεῖα.[696] We have seen that the term στοιχεῖον is of later date
than Anaxagoras, and it is natural to suppose that the word ὁμοιομερῆ is
also only Aristotle’s name for the “seeds.” In his own system, the
ὁμοιομερῆ are intermediate between the elements (στοιχεῖα), of which
they are composed, and the organs (ὄργανα), which are composed of them.
The heart cannot be divided into hearts, but the parts of flesh are
flesh. That being so, Aristotle’s statement is quite intelligible from
his own point of view, but there is no reason for supposing that
Anaxagoras expressed himself in that particular way. All we are entitled
to infer is that he said the “seeds,” which he had substituted for the
“roots” of Empedokles, were not the opposites in a state of separation,
but each contained a portion of them all. If Anaxagoras had used the
term “homoeomeries”[697] himself, it would be strange that Simplicius
should quote no fragment containing it.

Footnote 696:

  Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ Α, 1, 314 a 18, ὁ μὲν γὰρ (Anaxagoras) τὰ
  ὁμοιομερῆ στοιχεῖα τίθησιν, οἷον ὀστοῦν καὶ σάρκα καὶ μυελόν, καὶ τῶν
  ἄλλων ὧν ἑκάστῳ συνώνυμον τὸ μέρος ἐστίν. This was, of course,
  repeated by Theophrastos and the doxographers; but it is to be noted
  that Aetios, supposing as he does that Anaxagoras himself used the
  term, gives it an entirely wrong meaning. He says that the
  ὁμοιομέρειαι were so called from the likeness of the particles of the
  τροφή to those of the body (_Dox._ 279 a 21; R. P. 155 f). Lucretius,
  i. 830 sqq. (R. P. 150 a) has a similar account of the matter, derived
  from Epicurean sources. Obviously, it cannot be reconciled with what
  Aristotle says.

Footnote 697:

  It is more likely that we have a trace of the terminology of
  Anaxagoras himself in Περὶ διαίτης, 3, μέρεα μερέων, ὅλα ὅλων.

The difference between the two systems may also be regarded from another
point of view. Anaxagoras was not obliged by his theory to regard the
elements of Empedokles as primary, a view to which there were obvious
objections, especially in the case of earth. He explained them in quite
another way. Though everything has a portion of everything in it, things
appear to be that of which there is most in them (fr. 12 _sub fin._). We
may say, then, that Air is that in which there is most cold, Fire that
in which there is most heat, and so on, without giving up the view that
there is a portion of cold in the fire and a portion of heat in the
air.[698] The great masses which Empedokles had taken for elements are
really vast collections of all manner of “seeds.” Each of them is, in
fact, a πανσπερμία.[699]

Footnote 698:

  Cf. above, p. 305.

Footnote 699:

  Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ Α, 1. 314 a 29. The word πανσπερμία was used by
  Demokritos (Arist. _de An._ 404 a 8; R. P. 200), and it occurs in the
  Περὶ διαίτης (_loc. cit._). It seems natural to suppose that it was
  used by Anaxagoras himself, as he used the term σπέρματα. Much
  difficulty has been caused by the apparent inclusion of Water and Fire
  among the ὁμοιομερῆ in Arist. _Met._ Α, 3. 984 a 11 (R. P. 150 a).
  Bonitz understands the words καθάπερ ὕδωρ ἢ πῦρ to mean “as we have
  just seen that Fire and Water do in the system of Empedokles.” In any
  case, καθάπερ goes closely with οὕτω, and the general sense is that
  Anaxagoras applies to the ὁμοιομερῆ what is really true of the
  στοιχεῖα. It would be better to delete the comma after πῦρ and add one
  after φησι, for συγκρίσει καὶ διακρίσει μόνον is explanatory of οὕτω
  ... καθάπερ. In the next sentence, I read ἁπλῶς for ἄλλως with Zeller
  (_Arch._ ii. p. 261). See also Arist. _de Caelo_, Γ, 3. 302 b 1 (R. P.
  150 a), where the matter is very clearly put.

[Sidenote: “All things together.”]

131. From all this it follows that, when “all things were together,” and
when the different seeds of things were mixed together in infinitely
small particles (fr. 1), the appearance presented would be that of one
of what had hitherto been regarded as the primary substances. As a
matter of fact, they did present the appearance of “air and aether”; for
the qualities (things) which belong to these prevail in quantity over
all other things in the universe, and everything is most obviously that
of which it has most in it (fr. 12 _sub fin._). Here, then, Anaxagoras
attaches himself to Anaximenes. The primary condition of things, before
the formation of the worlds, is much the same in both; only, with
Anaxagoras, the original mass is no longer the primary substance, but a
mixture of innumerable seeds divided into infinitely small parts.

This mass is infinite, like the air of Anaximenes, and it supports
itself, since there is nothing surrounding it.[700] Further, the “seeds”
of all things which it contains are infinite in number (fr. 1). But, as
the innumerable seeds may be divided into those in which the portions of
cold, moist, dense, and dark prevail, and those which have most of the
warm, dry, rare, and light in them, we may say that the original mass
was a mixture of infinite Air and of infinite Fire. The seeds of Air, of
course, contain “portions” of the “things” that predominate in Fire, and
_vice versa_; but we regard everything as being that of which it has
most in it. Lastly, there is no void in this mixture, an addition to the
theory made necessary by the arguments of Parmenides. It is, however,
worthy of note that Anaxagoras added an experimental proof of this to
the purely dialectical one of the Eleatics. He used the _klepsydra_
experiment as Empedokles had done (fr. 100), and also showed the
corporeal nature of air by means of inflated skins.[701]

Footnote 700:

  Arist. _Phys._ Γ, 5. 205 b 1 (R. P. 154 a).

Footnote 701:

  _Phys._ Ζ, 6. 213 a 22 (R. P. 159). We have a full discussion of the
  experiments with the _klepsydra_ in _Probl._ 914 b 9 sqq., a passage
  which we have already used to illustrate Empedokles, fr. 100. See
  above, p. 253, _n._ 565.

[Sidenote: Nous.]

132. Like Empedokles, Anaxagoras required some external cause to produce
motion in the mixture. Body, Parmenides had shown, would never move
itself, as the Milesians had supposed. Anaxagoras called the cause of
motion by the name of Nous. It was this which made Aristotle say that he
“stood out like a sober man from the random talkers that had preceded
him,”[702] and he has often been credited with the introduction of the
spiritual into philosophy. The disappointment expressed both by Plato
and Aristotle as to the way in which Anaxagoras worked out the theory
should, however, make us pause to reflect before accepting too exalted a
view of it. Plato[703] makes Sokrates say: “I once heard a man reading a
book, as he said, of Anaxagoras, and saying it was Mind that ordered the
world and was the cause of all things. I was delighted to hear of this
cause, and I thought he really was right.... But my extravagant
expectations were all dashed to the ground when I went on and found that
the man made no use of Mind at all. He ascribed no causal power whatever
to it in the ordering of things, but to airs, and aethers, and waters,
and a host of other strange things.” Aristotle, probably with this
passage in mind, says:[704] “Anaxagoras uses Mind as a _deus ex machina_
to account for the formation of the world; and whenever he is at a loss
to explain why anything necessarily is, he drags it in. But in other
cases he makes anything rather than Mind the cause.” These utterances
may well suggest that the Nous of Anaxagoras did not really stand on a
higher level than the Love and Strife of Empedokles, and this will only
be confirmed when we look at what he himself has to say about it.

Footnote 702:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 3. 984 b 15 (R. P. 152).

Footnote 703:

  Plato, _Phd._ 97 b 8 (R. P. 155 d).

Footnote 704:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 4. 985 a 18 (R. P. 155 d).

In the first place, Nous is unmixed (fr. 12), and does not, like other
things, contain a portion of everything. This would hardly be worth
saying of an immaterial mind; no one would suppose that to be hot or
cold. The result of its being unmixed is that it “has power over”
everything, that is to say, in the language of Anaxagoras, it causes
things to move.[705] Herakleitos had said as much of Fire, and
Empedokles of Strife. Further, it is the “thinnest” of all things, so
that it can penetrate everywhere, and it would be meaningless to say
that the immaterial is “thinner” than the material. It is true that Nous
also “knows all things”; but so, perhaps, did the Fire of
Herakleitos,[706] and certainly the Air of Diogenes.[707] Zeller holds,
indeed, that Anaxagoras meant to speak of something incorporeal; but he
admits that he did not succeed in doing so,[708] and that is
historically the important point. Nous is certainly imagined as
occupying space; for we hear of greater and smaller parts of it (fr.
12).

Footnote 705:

  Arist. _Phys._ Θ, 5. 256 b 24, διὸ καὶ Ἀναξαγόρας ὀρθῶς λέγει, τὸν
  νοῦν ἀπαθῆ φάσκων καὶ ἀμιγῆ εἶναι, ἐπειδήπερ κινήσεως ἀρχὴν αὐτὸν
  ποιεῖ εἶναι· οὕτω γὰρ ἂν μόνως κινοίη ἀκίνητος ὢν καὶ κρατοίη ἀμιγῆς
  ὤν. This is only quoted for the meaning of κρατεῖν. Of course, the
  words ἀκίνητος ὤν are not meant to be historical, and still less is
  the interpretation in _de An._ Γ, 4. 429 a 18. Diogenes of Apollonia
  (fr. 5) couples ὑπὸ τούτου πάντα κυβερνᾶσθαι (the old Milesian word)
  with πάντων κρατεῖν.

Footnote 706:

  If we retain the MS. εἰδέναι in fr. 1. In any case, the name τὸ σοφόν
  implies as much.

Footnote 707:

  See fr. 3, 5.

Footnote 708:

  Zeller, p. 993.

The truth probably is that Anaxagoras substituted Nous for the Love and
Strife of Empedokles, because he wished to retain the old Ionic doctrine
of a substance that “knows” all things, and to identify this with the
new theory of a substance that “moves” all things. Perhaps, too, it was
his increased interest in physiological as distinguished from purely
cosmological matters that led him to speak of Mind rather than Soul. The
former word certainly suggests design more clearly than the latter. But,
in any case, the originality of Anaxagoras lies far more in the theory
of matter than in that of Nous.

[Sidenote: Formation of the worlds.]

133. The formation of a world starts with a rotatory motion which Nous
imparts to a portion of the mixed mass in which “all things are
together” (fr. 13), and this rotatory motion gradually extends over a
wider and wider space. Its rapidity (fr. 9) produced a separation of the
rare and the dense, the cold and the hot, the dark and the light, the
moist and the dry (fr. 15). This separation produces two great masses,
the one consisting of the rare, hot, light, and dry, called the
“Aether”; the other, in which the opposite qualities predominate, called
“Air” (fr. 1). Of these the Aether or Fire[709] took the outside while
the Air occupied the centre (fr. 15).

Footnote 709:

  Note that Anaxagoras says “air” where Empedokles usually said
  “aether,” and that “aether” is with him equivalent to fire. Cf. Arist.
  _de Caelo_, Γ, 3. 302 b 4, τὸ γὰρ πῦρ καὶ τὸν αἰθέρα προσαγορεύει
  ταὐτό; and _ib._ Α, 3. 270 b 24, Ἀναξαγόρας δὲ καταχρῆται τῷ ὀνόματι
  τούτῳ οὐ καλῶς· ὀνομάζει γὰρ αἰθέρα ἀντὶ πυρός.

The next stage is the separation of the air into clouds, water, earth,
and stones (fr. 16). In this Anaxagoras follows Anaximenes closely. In
his account of the origin of the heavenly bodies, however, he showed
himself more original. We read at the end of fr. 16 that stones “rush
outwards more than water,” and we learn from the doxographers that the
heavenly bodies were explained as stones torn from the earth by the
rapidity of its revolution and made red-hot by the speed of their own
motion.[710] Perhaps the fall of the meteoric stone at Aigospotamoi had
something to do with the origin of this theory. It may also be observed
that, while in the earlier stages of the world-formation we are guided
chiefly by the analogy of water rotating with light and heavy bodies
floating in it, we are here reminded rather of a sling.

Footnote 710:

  Aet. ii. 13, 3 (_Dox._ p. 341; R. P. 157 c).

[Sidenote: Innumerable worlds.]

134. That Anaxagoras adopted the ordinary Ionian theory of innumerable
worlds is perfectly clear from fr. 4, which we have no right to regard
as other than continuous.[711] The words “that it was not only with us
that things were separated off, but elsewhere too” can only mean that
Nous has caused a rotatory movement in more parts of the boundless
mixture than one. Aetios certainly includes Anaxagoras among those who
held there was only one world; but this testimony cannot be considered
of the same weight as that of the fragments.[712] Zeller’s reference of
the words “elsewhere, as with us” to the moon is very improbable. Is it
likely that any one would say that the inhabitants of the moon “have a
sun and moon as with us”?[713]

Footnote 711:

  See above, p. 300, _n._ 684.

Footnote 712:

  Aet. ii. 1, 3. See above, Chap. I. p. 63.

Footnote 713:

  Further, it can be proved that this passage (fr. 4) occurred quite
  near the beginning of the work. Cf. Simpl. _Phys._ p. 34, 28, μετ’
  ὀλίγα τῆς ἀρχῆς τοῦ πρώτου Περὶ φυσέως, p. 156, 1, καὶ μετ’ ὀλίγα
  (after fr. 2), which itself occurred, μετ’ ὀλίγον (after fr. 1), which
  was the beginning of the book. A reference to other “worlds” would be
  quite in place here, but not a reference to the moon.

135. The cosmology of Anaxagoras is clearly based upon that of
Anaximenes, as will be obvious from a comparison of the following
passage of Hippolytos[714] with the quotations given in Chap. I. (§
29):—

  (3) The earth is flat in shape, and remains suspended because of its
  size and because there is no vacuum.[715] For this reason the air is
  very strong, and supports the earth which is borne up by it.

  (4) Of the moisture on the surface of the earth, the sea arose from
  the waters in the earth (for when these were evaporated the remainder
  turned salt),[716] and from the rivers which flow into it.

  (5) Rivers take their being both from the rains and from the waters in
  the earth; for the earth is hollow and has waters in its cavities. And
  the Nile rises in summer owing to the water that comes down from the
  snows in Ethiopia.[717]

  (6) The sun and the moon and all the stars are fiery stones carried
  round by the rotation of the aether. Under the stars are the sun and
  moon, and also certain bodies which revolve with them, but are
  invisible to us.

  (7) We do not feel the heat of the stars because of the greatness of
  their distance from the earth; and, further, they are not so warm as
  the sun, because they occupy a colder region. The moon is below the
  sun, and nearer us.

  (8) The sun surpasses the Peloponnesos in size. The moon has not a
  light of her own, but gets it from the sun. The course of the stars
  goes under the earth.

  (9) The moon is eclipsed by the earth screening the sun’s light from
  it, and sometimes, too, by the bodies below the moon coming before it.
  The sun is eclipsed at the new moon, when the moon screens it from us.
  Both the sun and the moon turn in their courses owing to the repulsion
  of the air. The moon turns frequently, because it cannot prevail over
  the cold.

  (10) Anaxagoras was the first to determine what concerns the eclipses
  and the illumination of the sun and moon. And he said the moon was of
  earth, and had plains and ravines in it. The Milky Way was the
  reflexion of the light of the stars that were not illuminated by the
  sun. Shooting stars were sparks, as it were, which leapt out owing to
  the motion of the heavenly vault.

  (11) Winds arose when the air was rarefied by the sun, and when things
  were burned and made their way to the vault of heaven and were carried
  off. Thunder and lightning were produced by heat striking upon clouds.

  (12) Earthquakes were caused by the air above striking on that beneath
  the earth; for the movement of the latter caused the earth which
  floats on it to rock.

Footnote 714:

  _Ref._ i. 8, 3 (_Dox._ p. 562).

Footnote 715:

  This is an addition to the older view occasioned by the Eleatic denial
  of the void.

Footnote 716:

  The text here is very corrupt, but the general sense can be got from
  Aet. iii. 16. 2.

Footnote 717:

  The MS. reading is ἐν τοῖς ἄρκτοις, for which Diels adopts Fredrichs’
  ἐν τοῖς ἀνταρκτικοῖς. I have thought it safer to translate the ἐν τῇ
  Αἰθιοπίᾳ which Aetios gives (iv. 1, 3). This view is mentioned and
  rejected by Herodotos (ii. 22). Seneca (_N. Q._ iv. 2, 17) points out
  that it was adopted by Aischylos (_Suppl._ 559, fr. 300, Nauck),
  Sophokles (fr. 797), and Euripides (_Hel._ 3, fr. 228).

All this confirms in the most striking way the statement of
Theophrastos, that Anaxagoras had belonged to the school of Anaximenes.
The flat earth floating on the air, the dark bodies below the moon, the
explanation of the solstices and the “turnings” of the moon by the
resistance of air, the explanations given of wind and of thunder and
lightning, are all derived from the earlier inquirer.

[Sidenote: Biology.]

136. “There is a portion of everything in everything except Nous, and
there are some things in which there is Nous also” (fr. 11). In these
words Anaxagoras laid down the distinction between animate and inanimate
things. He tells us that it is the same Nous that “has power over,” that
is, sets in motion, all things that have life, both the greater and the
smaller (fr. 12). The Nous in living creatures is the same in all (fr.
12), and from this it followed that the different grades of intelligence
which we observe in the animal and vegetable worlds depend entirely on
the structure of the body. The Nous was the same, but it had more
opportunities in one body than another. Man was the wisest of animals,
not because he had a better sort of Nous, but simply because he had
hands.[718] This view is quite in accordance with the previous
development of thought upon the subject. Parmenides, in the Second Part
of his poem (fr. 16), had already made the thought of men depend upon
the constitution of their limbs.

As all Nous is the same, we are not surprised to find that plants were
regarded as living creatures. If we may trust the pseudo-Aristotelian
_Treatise on Plants_[719] so far, Anaxagoras argued that they must feel
pleasure and pain in connexion with their growth and with the fall of
their leaves. Plutarch says[720] that he called plants “animals fixed in
the earth.”

Footnote 718:

  Arist. _de Part. An._ Δ, 10. 687 a 7 (R. P. 160 b).

Footnote 719:

  [Arist.] _de plant._ Α, 1. 815 a 15 (R. P. 160).

Footnote 720:

  Plut. _Q.N._ 1 (R. P. 160), ζῷον ... ἐγγεῖον.

Both plants and animals originated in the first instance from the
πανσπερμία. Plants first arose when the seeds of them which the air
contained were brought down by the rain-water,[721] and animals
originated in a similar way.[722] Like Anaximander, Anaxagoras held that
animals first arose in the moist element.[723]

Footnote 721:

  Theophr. _Hist. Plant._ iii. 1, 4 (R. P. 160).

Footnote 722:

  Irenaeus, _adv. Haer._ ii. 14, 2 (R. P. 160 a).

Footnote 723:

  Hipp. _Ref._ i. 8, 12 (_Dox._ p. 563).

137. In these scanty notices we seem to see traces of a polemical
attitude towards Empedokles, and the same may be observed in what we are
told of the theory of perception adopted by Anaxagoras, especially in
the view that perception is of contraries.[724] The account which
Theophrastos gives of this[725] is as follows:—

  But Anaxagoras says that perception is produced by opposites; for like
  things cannot be affected by like. He attempts to give a detailed
  enumeration of the particular senses. We see by means of the image in
  the pupil; but no image is cast upon what is of the same colour, but
  only on what is different. With most living creatures things are of a
  different colour to the pupil by day, though with some this is so by
  night, and these are accordingly keen-sighted at that time. Speaking
  generally, however, night is more of the same colour with the eyes
  than day. And an image is cast on the pupil by day, because light is a
  concomitant cause of the image, and because the prevailing colour
  casts an image more readily upon its opposite.[726]

  It is in the same way that touch and taste discern their objects. That
  which is just as warm or just as cold as we are neither warms us nor
  cools us by its contact; and, in the same way, we do not apprehend the
  sweet and the sour by means of themselves. We know cold by warm, fresh
  by salt, and sweet by sour, in virtue of our deficiency in each; for
  all these are in us to begin with. And we smell and hear in the same
  manner; the former by means of the accompanying respiration, the
  latter by the sound penetrating to the brain, for the bone which
  surrounds this is hollow, and it is upon it that the sound falls.[727]

  And all sensation implies pain, a view which would seem to be the
  consequence of the first assumption, for all unlike things produce
  pain by their contact. And this pain is made perceptible by the long
  continuance or by the excess of a sensation. Brilliant colours and
  excessive noises produce pain, and we cannot dwell long on the same
  things. The larger animals are the more sensitive, and, generally,
  sensation is proportionate to the size of the organs of sense. Those
  animals which have large, pure, and bright eyes, see large objects and
  from a great distance, and contrariwise.[728]

  And it is the same with hearing. Large animals can hear great and
  distant sounds, while less sounds pass unperceived; small animals
  perceive small sounds and those near at hand.[729] It is the same too
  with smell. Rarefied air has more smell; for, when air is heated and
  rarefied, it smells. A large animal when it breathes draws in the
  condensed air along with the rarefied, while a small one draws in the
  rarefied by itself; so the large one perceives more. For smell is
  better perceived when it is near than when it is far by reason of its
  being more condensed, while when dispersed it is weak. But, roughly
  speaking, large animals do not perceive a rarefied smell, nor small
  animals a condensed one.[730]

Footnote 724:

  Beare, p. 37.

Footnote 725:

  Theophr. _de Sensu_, 27 sqq. (_Dox._ p. 507).

Footnote 726:

  Beare, p. 38.

Footnote 727:

  Beare, p. 208.

Footnote 728:

  _Ibid._ p. 209.

Footnote 729:

  _Ibid._ p. 103.

Footnote 730:

  _Ibid._ p. 137.

This theory marks in some respects an advance upon that of Empedokles.
It was a happy thought of Anaxagoras to make sensation depend upon
irritation by opposites, and to connect it with pain. Many modern
theories are based upon a similar idea.

That Anaxagoras regarded the senses as incapable of reaching the truth
of things is shown by the fragments preserved by Sextus. But we must
not, for all that, turn him into a sceptic. The saying preserved by
Aristotle[731] that “things are as we suppose them to be,” has no value
at all as evidence. It comes from some collection of apophthegms, not
from the treatise of Anaxagoras himself; and it had, as likely as not, a
moral application. He did say (fr. 21) that “the weakness of our senses
prevents our discerning the truth,” but this meant simply that we do not
see the “portions” of everything which are in everything; for instance,
the portions of black which are in the white. Our senses simply show us
the portions that prevail. He also said that the things which are seen
give us the power of seeing the invisible, which is the very opposite of
scepticism (fr. 21_a_).

Footnote 731:

  _Met._ Δ, 5. 1009 b 25 (R. P. 161 a).




                              CHAPTER VII
                            THE PYTHAGOREANS


[Sidenote: The Pythagorean school.]

138. We have seen (§ 40) how the Pythagoreans, after losing their
supremacy at Kroton, concentrated themselves at Rhegion; but the school
founded there was soon broken up. Archippos stayed behind in Italy; but
Philolaos and Lysis, the latter of whom had escaped as a young man from
the massacre of Kroton, betook themselves to continental Hellas,
settling finally at Thebes. We know from Plato that Philolaos was there
some time during the latter part of the fifth century, and Lysis was
afterwards the teacher of Epameinondas.[732] Some of the Pythagoreans,
however, were able to return to Italy later on. Philolaos certainly did
so, and Plato implies that he had left Thebes some time before 399 B.C.,
the year in which Sokrates was put to death. In the fourth century, the
chief seat of the school is at Taras, and we find the Pythagoreans
heading the opposition to Dionysios of Syracuse. It is to this period
that Archytas belongs. He was the friend of Plato, and almost realised,
if he did not suggest, the ideal of the philosopher king. He ruled Taras
for years, and Aristoxenos tells us that he was never defeated in the
field of battle.[733] He was also the inventor of mathematical
mechanics. At the same time, Pythagoreanism had taken root in Hellas.
Lysis, we have seen, remained at Thebes, where Simmias and Kebes had
heard Philolaos, and there was an important community of Pythagoreans at
Phleious. Aristoxenos was personally acquainted with the last generation
of the school, and mentioned by name Xenophilos the Chalkidian from
Thrace, with Phanton, Echekrates, Diokles, and Polymnestos of Phleious.
They were all, he said, disciples of Philolaos and Eurytos.[734] Plato
was on friendly terms with these men, and dedicated the _Phaedo_ to
them.[735] Xenophilos was the teacher of Aristoxenos, and lived in
perfect health at Athens till the age of a hundred and five.[736]

Footnote 732:

  For Philolaos, see Plato, _Phd._ 61 d 7; e 7; and for Lysis,
  Aristoxenos in Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 250 (R. P. 59 b).

Footnote 733:

  Diog. viii. 79-83 (R. P. 61). Aristoxenos himself came from Taras. For
  the political activity of the Tarentine Pythagoreans, see Meyer,
  _Gesch. des Alterth._ v. § 824. The story of Damon and Phintias (told
  by Aristoxenos) belongs to this time.

Footnote 734:

  Diog. viii. 46 (R. P. 62).

Footnote 735:

  Compare the way in which the _Theaetetus_ is dedicated to the school
  of Megara.

Footnote 736:

  See Aristoxenos _ap._ Val. Max. viii. 13, ext. 3; and Souidas _s.v._

[Sidenote: Philolaos.]

139. This generation of the school really belongs, however, to a later
period, and cannot be profitably studied apart from Plato; it is with
their master Philolaos we have now to deal. The facts we know about his
teaching from external sources are few in number. The doxographers,
indeed, ascribe to him an elaborate theory of the planetary system, but
Aristotle never mentions his name in connexion with this. He gives it as
the theory of “the Pythagoreans” or of “some Pythagoreans.”[737] It
seems natural to suppose, however, that the Pythagorean elements of
Plato’s _Phaedo_ and _Gorgias_ come mainly from Philolaos. Plato makes
Sokrates express surprise that Simmias and Kebes had not learnt from him
why it is unlawful for a man to take his life,[738] and it seems to be
implied that the Pythagoreans at Thebes used the word “philosopher” in
the special sense of a man who is seeking to find a way of release from
the burden of this life.[739] It is extremely probable that Philolaos
spoke of the body (σῶμα) as the tomb (σῆμα) of the soul.[740] In any
case, we seem to be justified in holding that he taught the old
Pythagorean religious doctrine in some form, and it is likely that he
laid special stress upon knowledge as a means of release. That is the
impression we get from Plato, and he is by far the best authority we
have on the subject.

Footnote 737:

  See below, § 150–152.

Footnote 738:

  Plato, _Phd._ 61 d 6.

Footnote 739:

  This appears to follow at once from the remark of Simmias in _Phd._ 64
  b. The whole passage would be pointless if the words φιλόσοφος,
  φιλοσοφεῖν, φιλοσοφία had not in some way become familiar to the
  ordinary Theban of the fifth century. Now Herakleides Pontikos made
  Pythagoras invent the word, and expound it in a conversation with
  Leon, tyrant of Sikyon _or Phleious_. Cf. Diog. i. 12 (R. P. 3), viii.
  8; Cic. _Tusc._ v. 3. 8; Döring in _Arch._ v. pp. 505 sqq. It seems to
  me that the way in which the term is introduced in the _Phaedo_ is
  fatal to the view that this is a Sokratic idea transferred by
  Herakleides to the Pythagoreans. Cf. also the remark of Alkidamas
  quoted by Arist. _Rhet._ Β, 23. 1398 b 18, Θήβησιν ἅμα οἱ προστάται
  φιλόσοφοι ἐγένοντο καὶ εὐδαιμόνησεν ἡ πόλις.

Footnote 740:

  For reasons which will appear, I do not attach importance in this
  connexion to Philolaos, fr. 14 Diels = 23 Mullach (R. P. 89), but it
  does seem likely that the μυθολογῶν κομψὸς ἀνήρ of _Gorg._ 493 a 5 (R.
  P. 89 b) is responsible for the whole theory there given. He is
  certainly, in any case, the author of the τετρημένος πίθος, which
  implies the same general view. Now he is called ἴσως Σικελός τις ἢ
  Ἰταλικός, which means he was an Italian; for the Σικελός τις is merely
  an allusion to the Σικελὸς κομψὸς ἀνὴρ ποτὶ τὰν ματέρ’ ἔφα of
  Timokreon. We do not know of any Italian from whom Plato could have
  learnt these views except Philolaos or one of his disciples. They may,
  however, be originally Orphic for all that (cf. R. P. 89 a).

We know further that Philolaos wrote on “numbers”; for Speusippos
followed him in the account he gave of the Pythagorean theories on that
subject.[741] It is probable that he busied himself mainly with
arithmetic, and we can hardly doubt that his geometry was of the
primitive type described in an earlier chapter. Eurytos was his
disciple, and we have seen (§ 47) that his views were still very crude.

Footnote 741:

  See above, Chap. II. p. 113, _n._ 236.

We also know now that Philolaos wrote on medicine,[742] and that, while
apparently influenced by the theories of the Sicilian school, he opposed
them from the Pythagorean standpoint. In particular, he said that our
bodies were composed only of the warm, and did not participate in the
cold. It was only after birth that the cold was introduced by
respiration. The connexion of this with the old Pythagorean theory is
obvious. Just as the Fire in the macrocosm draws in and limits the cold
dark breath which surrounds the world (§ 53), so do our bodies inhale
cold breath from outside. Philolaos made bile, blood, and phlegm the
causes of disease; and, in accordance with the theory just mentioned, he
had to deny that the phlegm was cold, as the Sicilian school held it
was. Its etymology proved that it was warm. As Diels says, Philolaos
strikes us as an “uninteresting eclectic” so far as his medical views
are concerned.[743] We shall see, however, that it was just this
preoccupation with the medicine of the Sicilian school that gave rise to
some of the most striking developments of later Pythagoreanism.

Footnote 742:

  It is a good illustration of the defective character of our tradition
  (Introd. § XIII.) that this was quite unknown till the publication of
  the extracts from Menon’s _Iatrika_ contained in the Anonymus
  Londinensis. The extract referring to Philolaos is given and discussed
  by Diels in _Hermes_, xxviii. pp. 417 sqq.

Footnote 743:

  _Hermes_, _loc. cit._

[Sidenote: Plato and the Pythagoreans.]

140. Such, so far as we can see, was the historical Philolaos, and he is
a sufficiently remarkable figure. He is usually, however, represented in
a different light, and has even been spoken of as a “precursor of
Copernicus.” To understand this, we shall have to consider for a little
the story of what can only be called a literary conspiracy. Not till
this has been exposed will it be possible to estimate the real
importance of Philolaos and his immediate disciples.

As we can see from the _Phaedo_ and the _Gorgias_, Plato was intimate
with these men and was deeply impressed by their religious teaching,
though it is plain too that he did not adopt it as his own faith. He was
still more attracted by the scientific side of Pythagoreanism, and to
the last this exercised a great influence on him. His own system in its
final form had many points of contact with it, as he is careful to mark
in the _Philebus_.[744] But, just because he stood so near it, he is apt
to develop Pythagoreanism on lines of his own, which may or may not have
commended themselves to Archytas, but are no guide to the views of
Philolaos and Eurytos. He is not careful, however, to claim the
authorship of his own improvements in the system. He did not believe
that cosmology could be an exact science, and he is therefore quite
willing to credit Timaios the Lokrian, or “ancient sages” generally,
with theories which certainly had their birth in the Academy.

Footnote 744:

  Plato, _Phileb._ 16 c sqq.

Now Plato had many enemies and detractors, and this literary device
enabled them to bring against him the charge of plagiarism. Aristoxenos
was one of these enemies, and we know he made the extraordinary
statement that most of the _Republic_ was to be found in a work by
Protagoras.[745] He seems also to be the original source of the story
that Plato bought “three Pythagorean books” from Philolaos and copied
the _Timaeus_ out of them. According to this, the “three books” had come
into the possession of Philolaos; and, as he had fallen into great
poverty, Dion was able to buy them from him, or from his relatives, at
Plato’s request, for a hundred _minae_.[746] It is certain, at any rate,
that this story was already current in the third century; for the
sillographer Timon of Phleious addresses Plato thus: “And of thee too,
Plato, did the desire of discipleship lay hold. For many pieces of
silver thou didst get in exchange a small book, and starting from it
didst learn to write _Timaeus_.”[747] Hermippos, the pupil of
Kallimachos, said that “some writer” said that Plato himself bought the
books from the relatives of Philolaos for forty Alexandrian _minae_ and
copied the _Timaeus_ out of it; while Satyros, the Aristarchean, says he
got it through Dion for a hundred _minae_.[748] There is no suggestion
in any of these accounts that the book was by Philolaos himself; they
imply rather that what Plato bought was either a book by Pythagoras, or
at any rate authentic notes of his teaching, which had come into the
hands of Philolaos. In later times, it was generally supposed that the
work entitled _The Soul of the World_, by Timaios the Lokrian, was
meant;[749] but it has now been proved beyond a doubt that this cannot
have existed earlier than the first century A.D. We know nothing of
Timaios except what Plato tells us himself, and he may even be a
fictitious character like the Eleatic Stranger. His name does not occur
among the Lokrians in the Catalogue of Pythagoreans preserved by
Iamblichos.[750] Besides this, the work does not fulfil the most
important requirement, that of being in three books, which is always an
essential feature of the story.[751]

Footnote 745:

  Diog. iii. 37. For similar charges, cf. Zeller, _Plato_, p. 429, n. 7.

Footnote 746:

  Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 199. Diels is clearly right in ascribing the story
  to Aristoxenos (_Arch._ iii. p. 461, n. 26).

Footnote 747:

  Timon _ap._ Gell. iii. 17 (R. P. 60 a).

Footnote 748:

  For Hermippos and Satyros, see Diog. iii. 9; viii. 84, 85.

Footnote 749:

  So Iambl. _in Nicom._ p. 105, 11; Proclus, _in Tim._ p. 1, Diehl.

Footnote 750:

  Diels, _Vors._ p. 269.

Footnote 751:

  They are τὰ θρυλούμενα τρία βιβλία (Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 199), τὰ
  διαβόητα τρία βιβλία (Diog. viii. 15).

Not one of the writers just mentioned professes to have seen the famous
“three books”;[752] but at a later date there were at least two works
which claimed to represent them. Diels has shown how a treatise in three
sections, entitled Παιδευτικόν, πολιτικόν, φυσικόν, was composed in the
Ionic dialect and attributed to Pythagoras. It was largely based on the
Πυθαγορικαὶ ἀποφάσεις of Aristoxenos, but its date is uncertain.[753] In
the first century B.C., Demetrios Magnes was able to quote the opening
words of the work published by Philolaos.[754] That, however, was
written in Doric. Demetrios does not actually say it was by Philolaos
himself, though it is no doubt the same work from which a number of
extracts are preserved under his name in Stobaios and later writers. If
it professed to be by Philolaos, that was not quite in accordance with
the original story; but it is easy to see how his name may have become
attached to it. We are told that the other book which passed under the
name of Pythagoras was really by Lysis.[755] Boeckh has shown that the
work ascribed to Philolaos probably consisted of three books also, and
Proclus referred to it as the _Bakchai_,[756] a fanciful title which
recalls the “Muses” of Herodotos. Two of the extracts in Stobaios bear
it. It must be confessed that the whole story is very suspicious; but,
as some of the best authorities still regard the fragments as partly
genuine, it is necessary to look at them more closely.

Footnote 752:

  As Mr. Bywater says (_J. Phil._ i. p. 29), the history of this work
  “reads like the history, not so much of a book, as of a literary
  _ignis fatuus_ floating before the minds of imaginative writers.”

Footnote 753:

  Diels, “Ein gefälschtes Pythagorasbuch” (_Arch._ iii. pp. 451 sqq.).

Footnote 754:

  Diog. viii. 85 (R. P. 63 b). Diels reads πρῶτον ἐκδοῦναι τῶν
  Πυθαγορικῶν <βιβλία καὶ ἐπιγράψαι Περὶ> Φύσεως.

Footnote 755:

  Diog. viii. 7.

Footnote 756:

  Proclus, _in Eucl._ p. 22, 15 (Friedlein). Cf. Boeckh, _Philolaos_,
  pp. 36 sqq. Boeckh refers to a sculptured group of _three_ Bakchai,
  whom he supposes to be Ino, Agaue, and Autonoe.

[Sidenote: The “Fragments of Philolaos.”]

141. Boeckh argued with great learning and skill that all the fragments
preserved under the name of Philolaos were genuine; but no one will now
go so far as this. The lengthy extract on the soul is given up even by
those who maintain the genuineness of the rest.[757] It cannot be said
that this position is plausible on the face of it. Boeckh saw there was
no ground for supposing that there ever was more than a single work, and
he drew the conclusion that we must accept all the remains as genuine or
reject all as spurious.[758] As, however, Zeller and Diels still
maintain the genuineness of most of the fragments, we cannot ignore them
altogether. Arguments based, on the doctrine contained in them would, it
is true, present the appearance of a vicious circle at this stage. It is
only in connexion with our other evidence that these can be introduced.
But there are two serious objections to the fragments which may be
mentioned at once. They are sufficiently strong to justify us in
refusing to use them till we have ascertained from other sources what
doctrines may fairly be attributed to the Pythagoreans of this date.

Footnote 757:

  The passage is given in R. P. 68. For a full discussion of this and
  the other fragments, see Bywater, “On the Fragments attributed to
  Philolaus the Pythagorean” (_J. Phil._ i. pp. 21 sqq.).

Footnote 758:

  Boeckh, _Philolaos_, p. 38. Diels (_Vors._ p. 246) distinguishes the
  _Bakchai_ from the three books Περὶ φύσιος (_ib._ p. 239). As,
  however, he identifies the latter with the “three books” bought from
  Philolaos, and regards it as genuine, this does not seriously affect
  the argument.

In the first place, we must ask a question which has not yet been faced.
Is it likely that Philolaos should have written in Doric? Ionic was the
dialect of all science and philosophy till the time of the Peloponnesian
War, and there is no reason to suppose that the early Pythagoreans used
any other.[759] Pythagoras was himself an Ionian, and it is by no means
clear that in his time the Achaian states in which he founded his Order
had already adopted the Dorian dialect.[760] Alkmaion of Kroton seems to
have written in Ionic.[761] Diels says, it is true, that Philolaos and
then Archytas were the first Pythagoreans to use the dialect of their
homes;[762] but Philolaos can hardly be said to have had a home,[763]
and the fragments of Archytas are not written in the dialect of Taras,
but in what may be called “common Doric.” Archytas may have found it
convenient to use that dialect; but he is at least a generation later
than Philolaos, which makes a great difference. There is evidence that,
in the time of Philolaos and later, Ionic was still used even by the
citizens of Dorian states for scientific purposes. Diogenes of Apollonia
in Crete and the Syracusan historian Antiochos wrote in Ionic, while the
medical writers of Dorian, Kos and Knidos, continue to use the same
dialect. The forged work of Pythagoras referred to above, which some
ascribed to Lysis, was in Ionic; and so was the work on the _Akousmata_
attributed to Androkydes,[764] which shows that, even down to
Alexandrian times, it was still believed that Ionic was the proper
dialect for Pythagorean writings.

Footnote 759:

  See Diels in _Arch._ iii. pp. 460 sqq.

Footnote 760:

  On the Achaian dialect, see O. Hoffmann in Collitz and Bechtel,
  _Dialekt-Inschriften_, vol. ii. p. 151. How slowly Doric penetrated
  into the Chalkidian states may be seen from the mixed dialect of the
  inscription of Mikythos of Rhegion (_Dial.-Inschr._ iii. 2, p. 498),
  which is later than 468-67 B.C. There is no reason to suppose that the
  Achaian dialect of Kroton was less tenacious of life.

Footnote 761:

  The scanty fragments contain one Doric form, ἔχοντι (fr. 1), but
  Alkmaion calls himself Κροτωνιήτης, which is very significant; for
  Κροτωνιάτας is the Achaian as well as the Doric form. He did not,
  therefore, write a mixed dialect like that referred to in the last
  note. It seems safest to assume with Wachtler, _De Alcmaeone
  Crotoniata_, pp. 21 sqq., that he used Ionic.

Footnote 762:

  _Arch._ iii. p. 460.

Footnote 763:

  He is distinctly called a Krotoniate in the extracts from Menon’s
  Ἰατρικά (cf. Diog. viii. 84). It is true that Aristoxenos called him
  and Eurytos Tarentines (Diog. viii. 46), but this only means that he
  settled at Taras after leaving Thebes. These variations are common in
  the case of migratory philosophers. Eurytos is also called a
  Krotoniate and a Metapontine (Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 148, 266). Cf. also p.
  380, _n._ 921 on Leukippos, and p. 406, _n._ 988 on Hippon.

Footnote 764:

  For Androkydes, see Diels, _Vors._ p. 281. As Diels points out
  (_Arch._ iii. p. 461), even Lucian has sufficient sense of style to
  make Pythagoras speak Ionic.

In the second place, there can be no doubt that one of the fragments
refers to the five regular solids, four of which are identified with the
elements of Empedokles.[765] Now Plato gives us to understand, in a
well-known passage of the _Republic_, that stereometry had not been
adequately investigated at the time he wrote,[766] and we have express
testimony that the five “Platonic figures,” as they were called, were
discovered in the Academy. In the Scholia to Euclid we read that the
Pythagoreans only knew the cube, the pyramid (tetrahedron), and the
dodecahedron, while the octahedron and the icosahedron were discovered
by Theaitetos.[767] This sufficiently justifies us in regarding the
“fragments of Philolaos” with something more than suspicion. We shall
find more anachronisms as we go on.

Footnote 765:

  Cf. fr. 12 = 20 M. (R. P. 79), τὰ ἐν τᾷ σφαίρᾳ σώματα πέντε ἐντί.

Footnote 766:

  Plato, _Rep._ 528 b.

Footnote 767:

  Heiberg’s Euclid, vol. v. p. 654, 1, Ἐν τούτῳ τῷ βιβλίῳ, τουτέστι τῷ
  ιγ’, γράφεται τὰ λεγόμενα Πλάτωνος ε̄ σχήματα, ἃ αὐτοῦ μὲν οὐκ ἔστιν,
  τρία δὲ τῶν προειρημένων ε̄ σχημάτων τῶν Πυθαγορείων ἐστίν, ὅ τε κύβος
  καὶ ἡ πυραμὶς καὶ τὸ δωδεκάεδρον, Θεαιτήτου δὲ τό τε ὀκτάεδρον καὶ τὸ
  εἰκοσάεδρον. It is no objection to this that, as Newbold points out
  (_Arch._ xix. p. 204), the inscription of the dodecahedron is more
  difficult than that of the octahedron and icosahedron. The
  Pythagoreans were not confined to strict Euclidean methods. It may
  further be noted that Tannery comes to a similar conclusion with
  regard to the musical scale described in the fragment of Philolaos. He
  says: “Il n’y a jamais eu, pour la division du tétracorde, une
  tradition pythagoricienne; on ne peut pas avec sûreté remonter plus
  haut que Platon ou qu’Archytas” (_Rev. de Philologie_, 1904, p. 244).

[Sidenote: The Problem.]

142. We must look, then, for other evidence. From what has been said, it
will be clear that we cannot safely take Plato as our guide to the
original meaning of the Pythagorean theory, though it is certainly from
him alone that we can learn to regard it sympathetically. Aristotle, on
the other hand, was quite out of sympathy with Pythagorean ways of
thinking, but took a great deal of pains to understand them. This was
just because they played so great a part in the philosophy of Plato and
his successors, and he had to make the relation of the two doctrines as
clear as he could to himself and his disciples. What we have to do,
then, is to interpret what Aristotle tells us in the spirit of Plato,
and then to consider how the doctrine we arrive at in this way is
related to the systems which had preceded it. It is a delicate
operation, no doubt, but it has been made much safer by recent
discoveries in the early history of mathematics and medicine.

Zeller has cleared the ground by eliminating the purely Platonic
elements which have crept into later accounts of the system. These are
of two kinds. First of all, we have genuine Academic formulae, such as
the identification of the Limit and the Unlimited with the One and the
Indeterminate Dyad;[768] and secondly, there is the Neoplatonic doctrine
which represents it as an opposition between God and Matter.[769] It is
not necessary to repeat Zeller’s arguments here, as no one will any
longer attribute these doctrines to the Pythagoreans of the fifth
century.

Footnote 768:

  Aristotle says distinctly (_Met._ Α, 6. 987 b 25) that “to set up a
  dyad instead of the unlimited regarded as one, and to make the
  unlimited consist of the great and small, is distinctive of Plato.”
  Zeller seems to make an unnecessary concession with regard to this
  passage (p. 368, n. 2; Eng. trans. p. 396, n. 1).

Footnote 769:

  Zeller, p. 369 sqq. (Eng. trans. p. 397 sqq.).

This simplifies the problem very considerably, but it is still extremely
difficult. According to Aristotle, the Pythagoreans said _Things are
numbers_, though that does not appear to be the doctrine of the
fragments of “Philolaos.” According to them, things _have_ number, which
make them knowable, while their real essence is something
unknowable.[770] That would be intelligible enough, but the formula that
things _are_ numbers seems meaningless. We have seen reason for
believing that it is due to Pythagoras himself (§ 52), though we did not
feel able to say very clearly what he meant by it. There is no such
doubt as to his school. Aristotle says they used the formula in a
cosmological sense. The world, according to them, was made of numbers in
the same sense as others had said it was made of “four roots” or
“innumerable seeds.” It will not do to dismiss this as mysticism.
Whatever we may think of Pythagoras, the Pythagoreans of the fifth
century were scientific men, and they must have meant something quite
definite. We shall, no doubt, have to say that they used the words
_Things are numbers_ in a somewhat non-natural sense, but there is no
difficulty in such a supposition. We have seen already how the friends
of Aristoxenos reinterpreted the old _Akousmata_ (§ 44). The
Pythagoreans had certainly a great veneration for the actual words of
the Master (αὐτὸς ἔφα); but such veneration is often accompanied by a
singular licence of interpretation. We shall start, then, from what
Aristotle tells us about the numbers.

Footnote 770:

  For the doctrine of “Philolaos,” cf. fr. 1 = 2 Ch. (R. P. 64); and for
  the unknowable ἐστὼ τῶν πραγμάτων, see fr. 3 = 4 Ch. (R. P. 67). It
  has a suspicious resemblance to the later ὕλη, which Aristotle would
  hardly have failed to note if he had ever seen the passage. He is
  always on the lookout for anticipations of ὕλη.

[Sidenote: Aristotle on the Numbers.]

143. In the first place, Aristotle is quite decided in his opinion that
Pythagoreanism was intended to be a cosmological system like the others.
“Though the Pythagoreans,” he tells us, “made use of less obvious first
principles and elements than the rest, seeing that they did not derive
them from sensible objects, yet all their discussions and studies had
reference to nature alone. They describe the origin of the heavens, and
they observe the phenomena of its parts, all that happens to it and all
it does.”[771] They apply their first principles entirely to these
things, “agreeing apparently with the other natural philosophers in
holding that reality was just what could be perceived by the senses, and
is contained within the compass of the heavens,”[772] though “the first
principles and causes of which they made use were really adequate to
explain realities of a higher order than the sensible.”[773]

Footnote 771:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 8. 989 b 29 (R. P. 92 a).

Footnote 772:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 8. 990 a 3, ὁμολογοῦντες τοῖς ἄλλοις φυσιολόγοις ὅτι
  τό γ’ ὂν τοῦτ’ ἐστὶν ὅσον αἰσθητόν ἐστὶ καὶ περιείληφεν ὁ καλούμενος
  οὐρανός.

Footnote 773:

  _Met. ib._ 990 a 5, τὰς δ’ αἰτίας καὶ τὰς ἀρχάς, ὥσπερ εἴπομεν, ἱκανὰς
  λέγουσιν ἐπαναβῆναι καὶ ἐπὶ τὰ ἀνωτέρω τῶν ὄντων, καὶ μᾶλλον ἢ τοῖς
  περὶ φύσεως λόγοις ἁρμοττούσας.

The doctrine is more precisely stated by Aristotle to be that the
elements of numbers are the elements of things, and that therefore
things are numbers.[774] He is equally positive that these “things” are
sensible things,[775] and indeed that they are bodies,[776] the bodies
of which the world is constructed.[777] This construction of the world
out of numbers was a real process in time, which the Pythagoreans
described in detail.[778]

Footnote 774:

  _Met._ Α, 5. 986 a 1, τὰ τῶν ἀριθμῶν στοιχεῖα τῶν ὄντων στοιχεῖα
  πάντων ὑπέλαβον εἶναι; Ν, 3. 1090 a 22, εἶναι μὲν ἀριθμοὺς ἐποίησαν τὰ
  ὄντα, οὐ χωριστοὺς δέ, ἀλλ’ ἐξ ἀριθμῶν τὰ ὄντα.

Footnote 775:

  _Met._ Μ, 6. 1080 b 2, ὡς ἐκ τῶν ἀριθμῶν ἐνυπαρχόντων ὄντα τὰ αἰσθητά;
  _ib._ 1080 b 17, ἐκ τούτου (τοῦ μαθηματικοῦ ἀριθμοῦ) τὰς αἰσθητὰς
  οὐσίας συνεστάναι φασίν.

Footnote 776:

  _Met._ Μ, 8. 1083 b 11, τὰ σώματα ἐξ ἀριθμῶν εἶναι συγκείμενα; _ib._ b
  17, ἐκεῖνοι δὲ τὸν ἀριθμὸν τὰ ὄντα λέγουσιν· τὰ γοῦν θεωρήματα
  προσάπτουσι τοῖς σώμασιν ὡς ἐξ ἐκείνων ὄντων τῶν ἀριθμῶν; Ν, 3. 1090 a
  32, κατὰ μέντοι τὸ ποιεῖν ἐξ ἀριθμῶν τὰ φυσικὰ σώματα, ἐκ μὴ ἐχόντων
  βάρος μηδὲ κουφότητα ἔχοντα κουφότητα καὶ βάρος.

Footnote 777:

  _Met._ Α, 5. 986 a 2, τὸν ὅλον οὐρανὸν ἁρμονίαν εἶναι καὶ ἀριθμόν; Α,
  8. 990 a 21, τὸν ἀριθμὸν τοῦτον ἐξ οὗ συνέστηκεν ὁ κόσμος; Μ, 6. 1080
  b 18, τὸν γὰρ ὅλον οὐρανὸν κατασκευάζουσιν ἐξ ἀριθμῶν; _de Caelo_, Γ,
  1. 300 a 15, τοῖς ἐξ ἀριθμῶν συνιστᾶσι τὸν οὐρανόν· ἔνιοι γὰρ τὴν
  φύσιν ἐξ ἀριθμῶν συνιστᾶσιν, ὥσπερ τῶν Πυθαγορείων τινές.

Footnote 778:

  _Met._ Ν, 3. 1091 a 18, κοσμοποιοῦσι καὶ φυσικῶς βούλονται λέγειν.

Further, the numbers were intended to be mathematical numbers, though
they were not separated from the things of sense.[779] On the other
hand, they were not mere predicates of something else, but had an
independent reality of their own. “They did not hold that the limited
and the unlimited and the one were certain other substances, such as
fire, water, or anything else of that sort; but that the unlimited
itself and the one itself were the reality of the things of which they
are predicated, and that is why they said that number was the reality of
everything.”[780] Accordingly the numbers are, in Aristotle’s own
language, not only the formal, but also the material, cause of
things.[781] According to the Pythagoreans, things are made of numbers
in the same sense as they were made of fire, air, or water in the
theories of their predecessors.

Footnote 779:

  _Met._ Μ, 6. 1080 b 16; Ν, 3. 1090 a 20.

Lastly, Aristotle notes that the point in which the Pythagoreans agreed
with Plato was in giving numbers an independent reality of their own;
while Plato differed from the Pythagoreans in holding that this reality
was distinguishable from that of sensible things.[782] Let us consider
these statements in detail.

Footnote 780:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 5. 987 a 15.

Footnote 781:

  _Met. ib._ 986 a 15 (R. P. 66).

Footnote 782:

  _Met._ Α, 6. 987 b 27, ὁ μὲν (Πλάτων) τοὺς ἀριθμοὺς παρὰ τὰ αἰσθητά,
  οἱ δ’ (οἱ Πυθαγόρειοι) ἀριθμοὺς εἶναί φασιν αὐτὰ τὰ αἰσθητά.

[Sidenote: The elements of numbers.]

144. Aristotle speaks of certain “elements” (στοιχεῖα) of numbers, which
were also the elements of things. That, of course, is only his own way
of putting the matter; but it is clearly the key to the problem, if we
can discover what it means. Primarily, the “elements of number” are the
Odd and the Even, but that does not seem to help us much. We find,
however, that the Odd and Even were identified in a somewhat violent way
with the Limit and the Unlimited, which we have seen reason to regard as
the original principles of the Pythagorean cosmology. Aristotle tells us
that it is the Even which gives things their unlimited character when it
is contained in them and limited by the Odd,[783] and the commentators
are at one in understanding this to mean that the Even is in some way
the cause of infinite divisibility. They get into great difficulties,
however, when they try to show how this can be. Simplicius has preserved
an explanation, in all probability Alexander’s, to the effect that they
called the even number unlimited “because every even is divided into
equal parts, and what is divided into equal parts is unlimited in
respect of bipartition; for division into equals and halves goes on _ad
infinitum_. But, when the odd is added, it limits it; for it prevents
its division into equal parts.”[784] Now it is plain that we must not
impute to the Pythagoreans the view that even numbers can be halved
indefinitely. They had carefully studied the properties of the decad,
and they must have known that the even numbers 6 and 10 do not admit of
this. The explanation is really to be found in a fragment of
Aristoxenos, where we read that “even numbers are those which are
divided into equal parts, while odd numbers are divided into unequal
parts and have a middle term.”[785] This is still further elucidated by
a passage which is quoted in Stobaios and ultimately goes back to
Poseidonios. It runs: “When the odd is divided into two equal parts, a
unit is left over in the middle; but when the even is so divided, an
empty field is left, without a master and without a number, showing that
it is defective and incomplete.”[786] Again, Plutarch says: “In the
division of numbers, the even, when parted in any direction, leaves as
it were within itself ... a field; but, when the same thing is done to
the odd, there is always a middle left over from the division.”[787] It
is clear that all these passages refer to the same thing, and that can
hardly be anything else than those arrangements of “terms” in patterns
with which we are already familiar (§ 47). If we think of these, we
shall see in what sense it is true that bipartition goes on _ad
infinitum_. However high the number may be, the number of ways in which
it can be equally divided will also increase.

Footnote 783:

  __Met.__ Α, 5. 986 a 17 (R. P. 66); _Phys._ Γ, 4. 203 a 10 (R. P. 66
  a).

Footnote 784:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 455, 20 (R. P. 66 a). I owe the passages which I
  have used in illustration of this subject to W. A. Heidel, “Πέρας and
  ἄπειρον in the Pythagorean Philosophy” (_Arch._ xiv. pp. 384 sqq.).
  The general principle of my interpretation is also the same as his,
  though I think that, by bringing the passage into connexion with the
  numerical figures, I have avoided the necessity of regarding the words
  ἡ γὰρ εἰς ἴσα καὶ ἡμίση διαίρεσις ἐπ’ ἄπειρον as “an attempted
  elucidation added by Simplicius.”

Footnote 785:

  Aristoxenos, fr. 81, _ap._ Stob. i. p. 20, 1, ἐκ τῶν Ἀριστοξένου Περὶ
  ἀριθμητικῆς ... τῶν δὲ ἀριθμῶν ἄρτιοι μέν εἰσιν οἱ εἰς ἴσα
  διαιρούμενοι, περισσοὶ δὲ οἱ εἰς ἄνισα καὶ μέσον ἔχοντες.

Footnote 786:

  [Plut.] _ap._ Stob. i. p. 22, 19, καὶ μὴν εἰς δύο διαιρουμένων ἴσα τοῦ
  μὲν περισσοῦ μονὰς ἐν μέσῳ περιέστι, τοῦ δὲ ἀρτίου κενὴ λείπεται χώρα
  καὶ ἀδέσποτος καὶ ἀνάριθμος, ὡς ἂν ἐνδεοῦς καὶ ἀτελοῦς ὄντος.

Footnote 787:

  Plut. _de E apud Delphos_, 388 a, ταῖς γὰρ εἰς ἴσα τομαῖς τῶν ἀριθμῶν,
  ὁ μὲν ἄρτιος πάντῃ διϊστάμενος ὑπολείπει τινὰ δεκτικὴν ἀρχὴν οἷον ἐν
  ἑαυτῷ καὶ χώραν, ἐν δὲ τῷ περιττῷ ταὐτὸ παθόντι μέσον ἀεὶ περίεστι τῆς
  νεμήσεως γόνιμον. The words which I have omitted in translating refer
  to the further identification of Odd and Even with Male and Female.
  The passages quoted by Heidel might be added to. Cf., for instance,
  what Nikomachos says (p. 13, 10, Hoche), ἔστι δὲ ἄρτιον μὲν ὃ οἷόν τε
  εἰς δύο ἴσα διαιρεθῆναι μονάδος μέσον μὴ παρεμπιπτούσης, περιττὸν δὲ
  τὸ μὴ δυνάμενον εἰς δύο ἴσα μερισθῆναι διὰ τὴν προειρημένην τῆς
  μονάδος μεσιτείαν. He significantly adds that this definition is ἐκ
  τῆς δημώδους ὑπολήψεως.

145. In this way, then, the Odd and the Even were identified with the
Limit and the Unlimited, and it is possible, though by no means certain,
that Pythagoras himself had taken this step. In any case, there can be
no doubt that by his Unlimited he meant something spatially extended,
and we have seen that he identified it with air, night, or the void, so
we are prepared to find that his followers also thought of the Unlimited
as extended. Aristotle certainly regarded it so. He argues that, if the
Unlimited is itself a reality, and not merely the predicate of some
other reality, then every part of it must be unlimited too, just as
every part of air is air.[788] The same thing is implied in his
statement that the Pythagorean Unlimited was outside the heavens.[789]
Further than this, it is hardly safe to go. Philolaos and his followers
cannot have regarded the Unlimited in the old Pythagorean way as Air;
for, as we shall see, they adopted the theory of Empedokles as to that
“element,” and accounted for it otherwise. On the other hand, they can
hardly have regarded it as an absolute void; for that conception was
introduced by the Atomists. It is enough to say that they meant by the
Unlimited the _res extensa_, without analysing that conception any
further.

Footnote 788:

  Arist. _Phys._ Γ, 4. 204 a 20 sqq., especially a 26, ἀλλὰ μὴν ὥσπερ
  ἀέρος ἀὴρ μέρος, οὕτω καὶ ἄπειρον ἀπείρου, εἴ γε οὐσία ἐστὶ καὶ ἀρχή.

Footnote 789:

  See Chap. II. § 53.

As the Unlimited is spatial, the Limit must be spatial too, and we
should naturally expect to find that the point, the line, and the
surface were regarded as all forms of the Limit. That was the later
doctrine; but the characteristic feature of Pythagoreanism is just that
the point was not regarded as a limit, but as the first product of the
Limit and the Unlimited, and was identified with the arithmetical unit.
According to this view, then, the point has one dimension, the line two,
the surface three, and the solid four.[790] In other words, the
Pythagorean points have magnitude, their lines breadth, and their
surfaces thickness. The whole theory, in short, turns on the definition
of the point as a unit “having position.”[791] It was out of such
elements that it seemed possible to construct a world.

Footnote 790:

  Cf. Speusippos in the extract preserved in the _Theologumena
  arithmetica_, p. 61 (Diels, _Vors._ p. 235), τὸ μὴν γὰρ ᾱ στιγμή, τὸ
  δὲ β̄ γραμμή, τὸ δὲ τρία τρίγωνον, τὸ δὲ δ̄ πυραμίς. We know that
  Speusippos is following Philolaos here. Arist. _Met._ Ζ, 11. 1036 b
  12, καὶ ἀνάγουσι πάντα εἰς τοὺς ἀριθμούς, καὶ γραμμῆς τὸν λόγον τὸν
  τῶν δύο εἶναί φασιν. The matter is clearly put in the Scholia on
  Euclid (p. 78, 19, Heiberg), οἱ δὲ Πυθαγόρειοι τὸ μὲν σημεῖον ἀνάλογον
  ἐλάμβανον μονάδι, δυάδι δὲ τὴν γραμμήν, καὶ τριάδι τὸ ἐπίπεδον,
  τετράδι δὲ τὸ σῶμα. καίτοι Ἀριστοτέλης τριαδικῶς προσεληλυθέναι φησὶ
  τὸ σῶμα, ὡς διάστημα πρῶτον λαμβάνων τὴν γραμμήν.

Footnote 791:

  The identification of the point with the unit is referred to by
  Aristotle, _Phys._ Ε, 3. 227 a 27.

[Sidenote: The numbers as magnitudes.]

146. It is clear that this way of regarding the point, the line, and the
surface is closely bound up with the practice of representing numbers by
dots arranged in symmetrical patterns, which we have seen reason for
attributing to the Pythagoreans (§ 47). The science of geometry had
already made considerable advances, but the old view of quantity as a
sum of units had not been revised, and so a doctrine such as we have
indicated was inevitable. This is the true answer to Zeller’s contention
that to regard the Pythagorean numbers as spatial is to ignore the fact
that the doctrine was originally arithmetical rather than geometrical.
Our interpretation takes full account of that fact, and indeed makes the
peculiarities of the whole system depend upon it. Aristotle is very
decided as to the Pythagorean points having magnitude. “They construct
the whole world out of numbers,” he tells us, “but they suppose the
units have magnitude. As to how the first unit with magnitude arose,
they appear to be at a loss.”[792] Zeller holds that this is only an
inference of Aristotle’s,[793] and he is probably right in this sense,
that the Pythagoreans never felt the need of saying in so many words
that points had magnitude. It does seem probable, however, that they
called them ὄγκοι.[794]

Footnote 792:

  Arist. _Met._ Μ, 6. 1080 b 18 sqq., 1083 b 8 sqq.; _de Caelo_, Γ, 1.
  300 a 16 (R. P. 76 a).

Footnote 793:

  Zeller, p. 381.

Footnote 794:

  We learn from Plato, _Theaet._ 148 b 1, that Theaitetos called surds,
  what Euclid calls δυνάμει σύμμετρα, by the name of δυνάμεις, while
  rational square roots were called μήκη. Now in _Tim._ 31 c 4 we find a
  division of numbers into ὄγκοι and δυνάμεις, which seem to mean
  rational and irrational quantities. Cf. also the use of ὄγκοι in
  _Parm._ 164 d. Zeno in his fourth argument about motion, which, we
  shall see (§ 163), was directed against the Pythagoreans, used ὄγκοι
  for points. Aetios, i. 3, 19 (R. P. 76 b), says that Ekphantos of
  Syracuse was the first of the Pythagoreans to say that their units
  were corporeal. Probably, however, “Ekphantos” was a personage in a
  dialogue of Herakleides (Tannery, _Arch._ xi. pp. 263 sqq.), and
  Herakleides called the monads ἄναρμοι ὄγκοι (Galen, _Hist. Phil._ 18;
  _Dox._ p. 610).

Nor is Zeller’s other argument against the view that the Pythagorean
numbers were spatial any more inconsistent with the way in which we have
now stated it. He himself allows, and indeed insists, that in the
Pythagorean cosmology the numbers were spatial, but he raises
difficulties about the other parts of the system. There are other
things, such as the Soul and Justice and Opportunity, which are said to
be numbers, and which cannot be regarded as constructed of points,
lines, and surfaces.[795] Now it appears to me that this is just the
meaning of a passage in which Aristotle criticises the Pythagoreans.
They held, he says, that in one part of the world Opinion prevailed,
while a little above it or below it were to be found Injustice or
Separation or Mixture, each of which was, according to them, a number.
But in the very same regions of the heavens were to be found things
having magnitude which were also numbers. How can this be, since Justice
has no magnitude?[796] This means surely that the Pythagoreans had
failed to give any clear account of the relation between these more or
less fanciful analogies and their quasi-geometrical construction of the
universe. And this is, after all, really Zeller’s own view. He has shown
that in the Pythagorean cosmology the numbers were regarded as
spatial,[797] and he has also shown that the cosmology was the whole of
the system.[798] We have only to bring these two things together to
arrive at the interpretation given above.

Footnote 795:

  Zeller, p. 382.

Footnote 796:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 8. 990 a 22 (R. P. 81 e). I read and interpret thus:
  “For, seeing that, according to them, Opinion and Opportunity are in a
  given part of the world, and a little above or below them Injustice
  and Separation and Mixture,—in proof of which they allege that each of
  these is a number,—and seeing that it is also the case (reading
  συμβαίνῃ with Bonitz) that there is already in that part of the world
  a number of composite magnitudes (_i.e._ composed of the Limit and the
  Unlimited), because those affections (of number) are attached to their
  respective regions;—(seeing that they hold these two things), the
  question arises whether the number which we are to understand each of
  these things (Opinion, etc.) to be is the same as the number in the
  world (_i.e._ the cosmological number) or a different one.” I cannot
  doubt that these are the extended numbers which are composed
  (συνίσταται) of the elements of number, the limited and the unlimited,
  or, as Aristotle here says, the “affections of number,” the odd and
  the even. Zeller’s view that “celestial bodies” are meant comes near
  this, but the application is too narrow. Nor is it the number (πλῆθος)
  of those bodies that is in question, but their magnitude (μέγεθος).
  For other views of the passage, see Zeller, p. 391, n. 1.

Footnote 797:

  Zeller, p. 404.

Footnote 798:

  _Ibid._ pp. 467 sqq.

[Sidenote: The numbers and the elements.]

147. When we come to details, we seem to see that what distinguished the
Pythagoreanism of this period from its earlier form was that it sought
to adapt itself to the new theory of “elements.” It is just this which
makes it necessary for us to take up the consideration of the system
once more in connexion with the pluralists. When the Pythagoreans
returned to Southern Italy, they must have found views prevalent there
which imperatively demanded a partial reconstruction of their own
system. We do not know that Empedokles founded a philosophical society,
but there can be no doubt of his influence on the medical school of
these regions; and we also know now that Philolaos played a part in the
history of medicine.[799] This discovery gives us the clue to the
historical connexion, which formerly seemed obscure. The tradition is
that the Pythagoreans explained the elements as built up of geometrical
figures, a theory which we can study for ourselves in the more developed
form which it attained in Plato’s _Timaeus_.[800] If they were to retain
their position as the leaders of medical study in Italy, they were bound
to account for the elements.

Footnote 799:

  All this has been put in its true light by the publication of the
  extract from Menon’s Ἰατρικά, on which see p. 322, _n._ 742.

Footnote 800:

  In Aet. ii. 6, 5 (R. P. 80) the theory is ascribed to Pythagoras,
  which is an anachronism, as the mention of “elements” shows it must be
  later than Empedokles. In his extract from the same source, Achilles
  says οἱ Πυθαγόρειοι, which doubtless represents Theophrastos better.
  There is a fragment of “Philolaos” bearing on the subject (R. P. 79),
  where the regular solids must be meant by τὰ ἐν τᾷ σφαίρᾳ σώματα.

We must not take it for granted, however, that the Pythagorean
construction of the elements was exactly the same as that which we find
in Plato’s _Timaeus_. It has been mentioned already that there is good
reason for believing they only knew three of the regular solids, the
cube, the pyramid (tetrahedron), and the dodecahedron.[801] Now it is
very significant that Plato starts from fire and earth,[802] and in the
construction of the elements proceeds in such a way that the octahedron
and the icosahedron can easily be transformed into pyramids, while the
cube and the dodecahedron cannot. From this it follows that, while air
and water pass readily into fire, earth cannot do so,[803] and the
dodecahedron is reserved for another purpose, which we shall consider
presently. This would exactly suit the Pythagorean system; for it would
leave room for a dualism of the kind outlined in the Second Part of the
poem of Parmenides. We know that Hippasos made Fire the first principle,
and we see from the _Timaeus_ how it would be possible to represent air
and water as forms of fire. The other element is, however, earth, not
air, as we have seen reason to believe that it was in early
Pythagoreanism. That would be a natural result of the discovery of
atmospheric air by Empedokles and of his general theory of the elements.
It would also explain the puzzling fact, which we had to leave
unexplained above, that Aristotle identifies the two “forms” spoken of
by Parmenides with Fire and Earth.[804] All this is, of course,
problematical; but it will not be found easy to account otherwise for
the facts.

Footnote 801:

  See above, p. 329, _n._ 767.

Footnote 802:

  Plato, _Tim._ 31 b 5.

Footnote 803:

  Plato, _Tim._ 54 c 4. It is to be observed that in _Tim._ 48 b 5 Plato
  says of the construction of the elements οὐδείς πω γένεσιν αὐτῶν
  μεμήνυκεν, which implies that there is some novelty in the theory as
  he makes Timaios state it. If we read the passage in the light of what
  has been said in § 141, we shall be inclined to believe that Plato is
  working out the Pythagorean doctrine on the lines of the discovery of
  Theaitetos. There is another indication of the same thing in Arist.
  _Gen. Corr._ Β, 3. 330 b 16, where we are told that, in the
  Διαιρέσεις, Plato assumed three elements, but made the middle one a
  mixture. This is stated in close connexion with the ascription of Fire
  and Earth to Parmenides.

Footnote 804:

  See above, Chap. IV. p. 213, _n._ 462.

[Sidenote: The dodecahedron.]

148. The most interesting point in the theory is, perhaps, the use made
of the dodecahedron. It was identified, we are told, with the “sphere of
the universe,” or, as it is put in the Philolaic fragment, with the
“hull of the sphere.”[805] Whatever we may think of the authenticity of
the fragments, there is no reason to doubt that this is a genuine
Pythagorean expression, and it must be taken in close connexion with the
word “keel” applied to the central fire.[806] The structure of the world
was compared to the building of a ship, an idea of which there are other
traces.[807] The key to what we are told of the dodecahedron is given by
Plato. In the _Phaedo_ we read that the “true earth,” if looked at from
above, is “many-coloured like the balls that are made of twelve pieces
of leather.”[808] In the _Timaeus_ the same thing is referred to in
these words: “Further, as there is still one construction left, the
fifth, God made use of it for the universe when he painted it.”[809] The
point is that the dodecahedron approaches more nearly to the sphere than
any other of the regular solids. The twelve pieces of leather used to
make a ball would all be regular pentagons; and, if the material were
not flexible like leather, we should have a dodecahedron instead of a
sphere. This points to the Pythagoreans having had at least the
rudiments of the “method of exhaustion” formulated later by Eudoxos.
They must have studied the properties of circles by means of inscribed
polygons and those of spheres by means of inscribed solids.[810] That
gives us a high idea of their mathematical attainments; but that it is
not too high, is shown by the fact that the famous lunules of
Hippokrates date from the middle of the fifth century. The inclusion of
_straight_ and _curved_ in the “table of opposites” under the head of
Limit and Unlimited points in the same direction.[811]

Footnote 805:

  Aet. ii. 6, 5 (R. P. 80); “Philolaos,” fr. 12 (= 20 M.; R. P. 79). On
  the ὁλκάς, see Gundermann in _Rhein. Mus._ 1904, pp. 145 sqq. I agree
  with him in holding that the reading is sound, and that the word means
  “ship,” but I think that it is the structure, not the motion, of a
  ship which is the point of comparison.

Footnote 806:

  Aet. ii. 4, 15, ὅπερ τρόπεως δίκην προϋπεβάλετο τῇ τοῦ παντὸς <σφαίρᾳ>
  ὁ δημιουργὸς θεός.

Footnote 807:

  Cf. the ὑποζώματα of Plato, _Rep._ 616 c 3. As ὕλη generally means
  “timber” for shipbuilding (when it does not mean firewood), I suggest
  that we should look in this direction for an explanation of the
  technical use of the word in later philosophy. Cf. Plato, _Phileb._ 54
  c 1, γενέσεως ... ἕνεκα ... πᾶσαν ὕλην παρατίθεσθαι πᾶσιν, which is
  part of the answer to the question πότερα πλοίων ναυπηγίαν ἕνεκα φῂς
  γίγνεσθαι μᾶλλον ἢ πλοῖα ἕνεκα ναυπηγίας; (_ib._ b 2); _Tim._ 69 a 6,
  οἷα τέκτοσιν ἡμῖν ὕλη παράκειται.

Footnote 808:

  Plato, _Phd._ 110 b 6, ὥσπερ οἱ δωδεκάσκυτοι σφαῖραι with Wyttenbach’s
  note.

Footnote 809:

  Plato, _Tim._ 55 c 4. Neither this passage nor the last can refer to
  the Zodiac, which would be described by a dodecagon, not a
  dodecahedron. What is implied is the division of the heavens into
  twelve pentagonal fields.

Footnote 810:

  Gow, _Short History of Greek Mathematics_, pp. 164 sqq.

Footnote 811:

  This is pointed out by Kinkel, _Gesch. der Phil._ vol. i. p. 121.

The tradition confirms in an interesting way the importance of the
dodecahedron in the Pythagorean system. According to one account,
Hippasos was drowned at sea for revealing its construction and claiming
the discovery as his own.[812] What that construction was, we may
partially infer from the fact that the Pythagoreans adopted the
pentagram or _pentalpha_ as their symbol. The use of this figure in
later magic is well known; and Paracelsus still employed it as a symbol
of health, which is exactly what the Pythagoreans called it.[813]

Footnote 812:

  Iambl. _V. Pyth._ 247. Cf. above, Chap. II. p. 117, _n._ 247.

Footnote 813:

  See Gow, _Short History of Greek Mathematics_, p. 151, and the
  passages there referred to, adding Schol. Luc. p. 234, 21, Rabe, τὸ
  πεντάγραμμον] ὅτι τὸ ἐν τῇ συνθείᾳ λεγόμενον πένταλφα σύμβολον ἦν πρὸς
  ἀλλήλους Πυθαγορείων ἀναγνωριστικὸν καὶ τούτῳ ἐν ταῖς ἐπιστολαῖς
  ἐχρῶντο.

[Sidenote: The Soul a “Harmony.”]

149. The view that the soul is a “harmony,” or rather an attunement, is
intimately connected with the theory of the four elements. It cannot
have belonged to the earliest form of Pythagoreanism; for, as shown in
Plato’s _Phaedo_, it is quite inconsistent with the idea that the soul
can exist independently of the body. It is the very opposite of the
belief that “any soul can enter any body.”[814] On the other hand, we
know also from the _Phaedo_ that it was accepted by Simmias and Kebes,
who had heard Philolaos at Thebes, and by Echekrates of Phleious, who
was the disciple of Philolaos and Eurytos.[815] The account of the
doctrine given by Plato is quite in accordance with the view that it was
of medical origin. Simmias says: “Our body being, as it were, strung and
held together by the warm and the cold, the dry and the moist, and
things of that sort, our soul is a sort of temperament and attunement of
these, when they are mingled with one another well and in due
proportion. If, then, our soul is an attunement, it is clear that, when
the body has been relaxed or strung up out of measure by diseases and
other ills, the soul must necessarily perish at once.”[816] This is
clearly an application of the theory of Alkmaion (§ 96), and is in
accordance with the views of the Sicilian school of medicine. It
completes the evidence that the Pythagoreanism of the end of the fifth
century was an adaptation of the old doctrine to the new principles
introduced by Empedokles.

Footnote 814:

  Arist. _de An._ Α, 3. 407 b 20 (R. P. 86 c).

Footnote 815:

  Plato, _Phd._ 85 e sqq.; and for Echekrates, _ib._ 88 d.

Footnote 816:

  Plato, _Phd._ 86 b 7-c 5.

[Sidenote: The central fire.]

150. The planetary system which Aristotle attributes to “the
Pythagoreans” and Aetios to Philolaos is sufficiently remarkable.[817]
The earth is no longer in the middle of the world; its place is taken by
a central fire, which is not to be identified with the sun. Round this
fire revolve ten bodies. First comes the _Antichthon_ or Counter-earth,
and next the earth, which thus becomes one of the planets. After the
earth comes the moon, then the sun, the five planets, and the heaven of
the fixed stars. We do not see the central fire and the _antichthon_
because the side of the earth on which we live is always turned away
from them. This is to be explained by the analogy of the moon. That body
always presents the same face to us; and men living on the other side of
it would never see the earth. This implies, of course, that all these
bodies rotate on their axes in the same time as they revolve round the
central fire.[818]

Footnote 817:

  For the authorities, see R. P. 81-83. The attribution of the theory to
  Philolaos is perhaps due to Poseidonios. The “three books” were
  doubtless in existence by his time.

Footnote 818:

  Plato attributes an axial rotation to the heavenly bodies (_Tim._ 40 a
  7), which must be of this kind. It is quite likely that the
  Pythagoreans already did so, though Aristotle was unable to see the
  point. He says (_de Caelo_, Β, 8. 290 a 24), ἀλλὰ μὴν ὅτι οὐδὲ
  κυλίεται τὰ ἄστρα, φανερόν· τὸ μὲν γὰρ κυλιόμενον στρέφεσθαι ἀνάγκη,
  τῆς δὲ σελήνης ἀεὶ δηλόν ἐστι τὸ καλούμενον πρόσωπον. This, of course,
  is just what proves it does rotate.

It is not very easy to accept the view that this system was taught by
Philolaos. Aristotle nowhere mentions him in connexion with it, and in
the _Phaedo_ Plato gives a description of the earth and its position in
the world which is entirely opposed to it, but is accepted without demur
by Simmias the disciple of Philolaos.[819] It is undoubtedly a
Pythagorean theory, however, and marks a noticeable advance on the
Ionian views then current at Athens. It is clear too that Plato states
it as something of a novelty that the earth does not require the support
of air or anything of the sort to keep it in its place. Even Anaxagoras
had not been able to shake himself free of that idea, and Demokritos
still held it.[820] The natural inference from the _Phaedo_ would
certainly be that the theory of a spherical earth, kept in the middle of
the world by its equilibrium, was that of Philolaos himself. If so, the
doctrine of the central fire would belong to a somewhat later generation
of the school, and Plato may have learnt it from Archytas and his
friends after he had written the _Phaedo_. However that may be, it is of
such importance that it cannot be omitted here.

Footnote 819:

  Plato, _Phd._ 108 e 4 sqq. Simmias assents to this doctrine in the
  emphatic words Καὶ ὀρθῶς γε.

Footnote 820:

  The primitive character of the astronomy taught by Demokritos as
  compared with that of Plato is the best evidence of the value of the
  Pythagorean researches.

It is commonly supposed that the revolution of the earth round the
central fire was intended to account for the alternation of day and
night, and it is clear that an orbital motion of the kind just described
would have the same effect as the rotation of the earth on its axis. As
the same side of the earth is always turned to the central fire, the
side upon which we live will be turned towards the sun when the earth is
on the same side of the central fire, and turned away from it when the
earth and sun are on opposite sides. This view appears to derive some
support from the statement of Aristotle that the earth “being in motion
round the centre, produces day and night.”[821] That remark, however,
would prove too much; for in the _Timaeus_ Plato calls the earth “the
guardian and artificer of night and day,” while at the same time he
declares that the alternation of day and night is caused by the diurnal
revolution of the heavens.[822] That is explained, no doubt quite
rightly, by saying that, even if the earth were regarded as at rest, it
could still be said to produce day and night; for night is due to the
intervention of the earth between the sun and the hemisphere opposite to
it. If we remember how recent was the discovery that night was the
shadow of the earth, we shall see how it may have been worth while to
say this explicitly.

Footnote 821:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 293 a 18 sqq. (R. P. 83).

Footnote 822:

  Plato, _Tim._ 40 c 1, (γῆν) φύλακα καὶ δημιουργὸν νυκτός τε καὶ ἡμέρας
  ἐμηχανήσατο. On the other hand, νὺξ μὲν οὖν ἡμέρα τε γέγονεν οὕτως καὶ
  διὰ ταῦτα, ἡ τῆς μιᾶς καὶ φρονιμωτάτης κυκλήσεως περίοδος (39 c 1).

In any case, it is wholly incredible that the heaven of the fixed stars
should have been regarded as stationary. That would have been the most
startling paradox that any scientific man had yet propounded, and we
should have expected the comic poets and popular literature generally to
raise the cry of atheism at once. Above all, we should have expected
Aristotle to say something about it. He made the circular motion of the
heavens the very keystone of his system, and would have regarded the
theory of a stationary heaven as blasphemous. Now he argues against
those who, like the Pythagoreans and Plato, regarded the earth as in
motion;[823] but he does not attribute the view that the heavens are
stationary to any one. There is no necessary connexion between the two
ideas. All the heavenly bodies may be moving as rapidly as we please,
provided that their relative motions are such as to account for the
phenomena.[824]

Footnote 823:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 293 b 15 sqq.

Footnote 824:

  Boeckh admitted a very slow motion of the heaven of the fixed stars,
  which he at first supposed to account for the precession of the
  equinoxes, though he afterwards abandoned that hypothesis
  (_Untersuchungen_, p. 93). But, as Dreyer admits (_Planetary Systems_,
  p. 49), it is “not ... necessary with Boeckh to suppose the motion of
  the starry sphere to have been an exceedingly slow one, as it might in
  any case escape direct observation.”

It seems probable that the theory of the earth’s revolution round the
central fire really originated in the account given by Empedokles of the
sun’s light. The two things are brought into close connexion by Aetios,
who says that Empedokles believed in two suns, while Philolaos believed
in two or even in three.[825] The theory of Empedokles is unsatisfactory
in so far as it gives two inconsistent explanations of night. It is, we
have seen, the shadow of the earth; but at the same time Empedokles
recognised a fiery diurnal hemisphere and a nocturnal hemisphere with
only a little fire in it.[826] All this could be simplified by the
hypothesis of a central fire which is the true source of light. Such a
theory would, in fact, be the natural issue of the recent discoveries as
to the moon’s light and the cause of eclipses, if that theory were
extended so as to include the sun.

Footnote 825:

  Aet. ii. 20, 13 (Chap. IV. p. 275, _n._ 609); cf. _ib._ 12 (of
  Philolaos), ὥστε τρόπον τινὰ διττοὺς ἡλίους γίγνεσθαι, τό τε ἐν τῷ
  οὐρανῷ πυρῶδες καὶ τὸ ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ πυροειδὲς κατὰ τὸ ἐσοπτροειδές· εἰ μή
  τις καὶ τρίτον λέξει τὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ ἐνόπτρου κατ’ ἀνάκλασιν
  διασπειρομένην πρὸς ἡμᾶς αὐγήν. Here τὸ ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ πυρῶδες is the
  central fire, in accordance with the use of the word οὐρανός explained
  in another passage of Aetios, Stob. _Ecl._ i. p. 196, 18 (R. P. 81).
  It seems to me that these strange notices must be fragments of an
  attempt to show how the heliocentric hypothesis arose from the theory
  of Empedokles as to the sun’s light. The meaning is that the central
  fire really was the sun, but that Philolaos unnecessarily duplicated
  it by supposing the visible sun to be its reflexion.

Footnote 826:

  Chap. VI. § 113.

The central fire received a number of mythological names. It was called
the Hestia or “hearth of the universe,” the “house” or “watch-tower” of
Zeus, and the “mother of the gods.”[827] That was in the manner of the
school; but these names must not blind us to the fact that we are
dealing with a real scientific hypothesis. It was a great thing to see
that the phenomena could best be “saved” by a central luminary, and that
the earth must therefore be a revolving sphere like the planets. Indeed,
we are almost tempted to say that the identification of the central fire
with the sun, which was suggested for the first time in the Academy, is
a mere detail in comparison. The great thing was that the earth should
definitely take its place among the planets; for once it has done so, we
can proceed to search for the true “hearth” of the planetary system at
our leisure. It is probable, at any rate, that it was this theory which
made it possible for Herakleides of Pontos and Aristarchos of Samos to
reach the heliocentric hypothesis,[828] and it was certainly Aristotle’s
reversion to the geocentric theory which made it necessary for
Copernicus to discover the truth afresh. We have his own word for it
that the Pythagorean theory put him on the right track.[829]

Footnote 827:

  Aet. i. 7, 7 (R. P. 81). Procl. _in Tim._ p. 106, 22, Diehl (R. P. 83
  e).

Footnote 828:

  On these points, see Staigmüller, _Beiträge zur Gesch. der
  Naturwissenschaften im klassichen Altertume_ (Progr., Stuttgart,
  1899); and “Herakleides Pontikos und das heliokentrische System”
  (_Arch._ xv. pp. 141 sqq.). Though, for reasons which will partly
  appear from the following pages, I should not put the matter exactly
  as Staigmüller does, I have no doubt that he is substantially right.
  Diels had already expressed his adhesion to the view that Herakleides
  was the real author of the heliocentric hypothesis (_Berl. Sitzb._,
  1893, P. 18).

Footnote 829:

  In his letter to Pope Paul III., Copernicus quotes Plut. _Plac._ iii.
  13, 2-3 (R. P. 83 a), and adds “Inde igitur occasionem nactus, coepi
  et ego de terrae mobilitate cogitare.” The whole passage is
  paraphrased by Dreyer, _Planetary Systems_, p. 311. Cf. also the
  passage from the original MS., which was first printed in the edition
  of 1873, translated by Dreyer, _ib._ pp. 314 sqq.

[Sidenote: The _antichthon_.]

151. The existence of the _antichthon_ was also a hypothesis intended to
account for the phenomena of eclipses. In one place, indeed, Aristotle
says that the Pythagoreans invented it in order to bring the number of
revolving bodies up to ten;[830] but that is a mere sally, and Aristotle
really knew better. In his work on the Pythagoreans, we are told, he
said that eclipses of the moon were caused sometimes by the intervention
of the earth and sometimes by that of the _antichthon_; and the same
statement was made by Philip of Opous, a very competent authority on the
matter.[831] Indeed, Aristotle shows in another passage exactly how the
theory originated. He tells us that some thought there might be a
considerable number of bodies revolving round the centre, though
invisible to us because of the intervention of the earth, and that they
accounted in this way for there being more eclipses of the moon than of
the sun.[832] This is mentioned in close connexion with the
_antichthon_, so there is no doubt that Aristotle regarded the two
hypotheses as of the same nature. The history of the theory seems to be
this. Anaximenes had assumed the existence of dark planets to account
for the frequency of lunar eclipses (§ 29), and Anaxagoras had revived
that view (§ 135). Certain Pythagoreans[833] had placed these dark
planets between the earth and the central fire in order to account for
their invisibility, and the next stage was to reduce them to a single
body. Here again we see how the Pythagoreans tried to simplify the
hypotheses of their predecessors.

Footnote 830:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 5. 986 a 3 (R. P. 83 b).

Footnote 831:

  Aet. ii. 29, 4, τῶν Πυθαγορείων τινὲς κατὰ τὴν Ἀριστοτέλειον ἱστορίαν
  καὶ τὴν Φιλίππου τοῦ Ὀπουντίου ἀπόφασιν ἀνταυγείᾳ καὶ ἀντιφράξει τοτὲ
  μὲν τῆς γῆς, τοτὲ δὲ τῆς ἀντίχθονος (ἐκλείπειν τὴν σελήνην).

Footnote 832:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 293 b 21, ἐνίοις δὲ δοκεῖ καὶ πλείω σώματα
  τοιαῦτα ἐνδέχεσθαι φέρεσθαι περὶ τὸ μέσον ἡμῖν ἄδηλα διὰ τὴν
  ἐπιπρόσθησιν τῆς γῆς. διὸ καὶ τὰς τῆς σελήνης ἐκλείψεις πλείους ἢ τὰς
  τοῦ ἡλίου γίγνεσθαί φασιν· τῶν γὰρ φερομένων ἕκαστον ἀντιφράττειν
  αὐτήν, ἀλλ’ οὐ μόνον τὴν γῆν.

Footnote 833:

  It is not expressly stated that they were Pythagoreans, but it is
  natural to suppose so. Such, at least, was Alexander’s opinion (Simpl.
  _de Caelo_, P. 515, 25).

[Sidenote: Planetary motions.]

152. We must not assume that even the later Pythagoreans made the sun,
moon, and planets, including the earth, revolve in the opposite
direction to the heaven of the fixed stars. It is true that Alkmaion is
said to have agreed with “some of the mathematicians”[834] in holding
this view, but it is never ascribed to Pythagoras or even to Philolaos.
The old theory was, as we have seen (§ 54), that all the heavenly bodies
revolved in the same direction, from east to west, but that the planets
revolved more slowly the further they were removed from the heavens, so
that those which are nearest the earth are “overtaken” by those that are
further away. This view was still maintained by Demokritos, and that it
was also Pythagorean, seems to follow from what we are told about the
“harmony of the spheres.” We have seen (§ 54) that we cannot attribute
this theory in its later form to the Pythagoreans of the fifth century,
but we have the express testimony of Aristotle to the fact that those
Pythagoreans whose doctrine he knew believed that the heavenly bodies
produced musical notes in their courses. Further, the velocities of
these bodies depended on the distances between them, and these
corresponded to the intervals of the octave. He distinctly implies that
the heaven of the fixed stars takes part in the concert; for he mentions
“the sun, the moon, and the stars, so great in magnitude and in number
as they are,” a phrase which cannot refer solely or chiefly to the
remaining five planets.[835] Further, we are told that the slower bodies
give out a deep note and the swifter a high note.[836] Now the
prevailing tradition gives the high note of the octave to the heaven of
the fixed stars,[837] from which it follows that all the heavenly bodies
revolve in the same direction, and that their velocity increases in
proportion to their distance from the centre.

Footnote 834:

  The term οἱ μαθηματικοί is that used by Poseidonios for the Chaldæan
  astrologers (Berossos). Diels, _Elementum_, p. 11, n. 3. As we have
  seen, the Babylonians knew the planets better than the Greeks.

Footnote 835:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 9. 290 b 12 sqq. (R. P. 82).

Footnote 836:

  Alexander, _in Met._ p. 39, 24 (from Aristotle’s work on the
  Pythagoreans), τῶν γὰρ σωμάτων τῶν περὶ τὸ μέσον φερομένων ἐν ἀναλογίᾳ
  τὰς ἀποστάσεις ἐχόντων ... ποιούντων δὲ καὶ ψόφον ἐν τῷ κινεῖσθαι τῶν
  μὲν βραδυτέρων βαρύν, τῶν δὲ ταχυτέρων ὀξύν. We must not attribute the
  identification of the seven planets with the seven strings of the
  heptachord to the Pythagoreans of this date. Mercury and Venus have in
  the long run the same velocity as the sun, and we must take in the
  earth and the fixed stars. We can even find room for the _antichthon_
  as προσλαμβανόμενος.

Footnote 837:

  For the various systems, see Boeckh, _Kleine Schriften_, vol. iii. pp.
  169 sqq., and Carl v. Jan, “Die Harmonie der Sphären” (_Philol._ 1893,
  pp. 13 sqq.). They vary with the astronomy of their authors, but they
  bear witness to the fact stated in the text. Many give the highest
  note to Saturn and the lowest to the Moon, while others reverse this.
  The system which corresponds best, however, with the Pythagorean
  planetary system must include the heaven of the fixed stars and the
  earth. It is that upon which the verses of Alexander of Ephesos quoted
  by Theon of Smyrna, p. 140, 4, are based:

             γαῖα μὲν οὖν ὑπάτη τε βαρεῖά τε μέσσοθι ναίει·
             ἀπλανέων δὲ σφαῖρα συνημμένη ἔπλετο νήτη, κ.τ.λ.

  The “base of Heaven’s deep Organ” in Milton’s “ninefold harmony”
  (_Hymn on the Nativity_, xiii.) implies the reverse of this.

The theory that the proper motion of the sun, moon, and planets is from
west to east, and that they also share in the motion from east to west
of the heaven of the fixed stars, makes its first appearance in the Myth
of Er in Plato’s _Republic_, and is fully worked out in the _Timaeus_.
In the _Republic_ it is still associated with the “harmony of the
spheres,” though we are not told how it is reconciled with that theory
in detail.[838] In the _Timaeus_ we read that the slowest of the
heavenly bodies appear the fastest and _vice versa_; and, as this
statement is put into the mouth of a Pythagorean, we might suppose the
theory of a composite movement to have been anticipated by some members
at least of that school.[839] That is, of course, possible; for the
Pythagoreans were singularly open to new ideas. At the same time, we
must note that the theory is even more emphatically expressed by the
Athenian Stranger in the _Laws_, who is in a special sense Plato
himself. If we were to praise the runners who come in last in the race,
we should not do what is pleasing to the competitors; and in the same
way it cannot be pleasing to the gods when we suppose the slowest of the
heavenly bodies to be the fastest. The passage undoubtedly conveys the
impression that Plato is expounding a novel theory.[840]

Footnote 838:

  The difficulty appears clearly in Adam’s note on _Republic_, 617 b
  (vol. ii. p. 452). There the ἀπλανής appears rightly as the νήτη,
  while Saturn, which comes next to it, is the ὑπάτη. It is
  inconceivable that this should have been the original scale. Aristotle
  touches upon the point (_de Caelo_, Β, 10. 291 a 29 sqq.); and
  Simplicius sensibly observes (_de Caelo_, p. 476, 11), οἱ δὲ πάσας τὰς
  σφαίρας τὴν αὐτὴν λέγοντες κίνησιν τὴν ἀπ’ ἀνατολῶν κινεῖσθαι καθ’
  ὑπόληψιν (ought not the reading to be ὑπόλειψιν?), ὥστε τὴν μὲν
  Κρονίαν σφαῖραν συναποκαθίστασθαι καθ’ ἡμέραν τῇ ἀπλανεῖ παρ’ ὀλίγον,
  τὴν δὲ τοῦ Διὸς παρὰ πλέον καὶ ἐφεξῆς οὕτως, οὗτοι πολλὰς μὲν ἄλλας
  ἀπορίας ἐκφεύγουσι, but their ὑπόθεσις is ἀδύνατος. This is what led
  to the return to the geocentric hypothesis and the exclusion of earth
  and ἀπλανὴς from the ἁρμονία. The only solution would have been to
  make the earth rotate on its axis or revolve round the central fire in
  twenty-four hours, leaving only precession for the ἀπλανής. As we have
  seen, Boeckh attributed this to Philolaos, but without evidence. If he
  had thought of it, these difficulties would not have arisen.

Footnote 839:

  _Tim._ 39 a 5-b 2, especially the words τὰ τάχιστα περιιόντα ὑπὸ τῶν
  βραδυτέρων ἐφαίνετο καταλαμβάνοντα καταλαμβάνεσθαι (“they appear to be
  overtaken, though they overtake”).

Footnote 840:

  Plato, _Laws_, 822 a 4 sqq. The Athenian says of the theory that he
  had not heard of it in his youth nor long before (821 e 3). If so, it
  can hardly have been taught by Philolaos, though it may have been by
  Archytas.

[Sidenote: Things likenesses of numbers.]

153. We have still to consider a view, which Aristotle sometimes
attributes to the Pythagoreans, that things were “like numbers.” He does
not appear to regard this as inconsistent with the doctrine that things
_are_ numbers, though it is hard to see how he could reconcile the
two.[841] There is no doubt, however, that Aristoxenos represented the
Pythagoreans as teaching that things were _like_ numbers,[842] and there
are other traces of an attempt to make out that this was the original
doctrine. A letter was produced, purporting to be by Theano, the wife of
Pythagoras, in which she says that she hears many of the Hellenes think
Pythagoras said things were made _of_ number, whereas he really said
they were made _according to_ number.[843] It is amusing to notice that
this fourth-century theory had to be explained away in its turn later
on, and Iamblichos actually tells us that it was Hippasos who said
number was the exemplar of things.[844]

Footnote 841:

  Cf. especially _Met._ Α, 6. 787 b 10 (R. P. 65 d). It is not quite the
  same thing when he says, as in Α, 5. 985 b 23 sqq. (R. P. _ib._), that
  they perceived many likenesses in things to numbers. That refers to
  the numerical analogies of Justice, Opportunity, etc.

Footnote 842:

  Aristoxenos _ap._ Stob. i. pr. 6 (p. 20), Πυθαγόρας ... πάντα τὰ
  πράγματα ἀπεικάζων τοῖς ἀριθμοῖς.

Footnote 843:

  Stob. _Ecl._ i. p. 125, 19 (R. P. 65 d).

Footnote 844:

  Iambl. _in Nicom._ p. 10, 20 (R. P. 56 c).

When this view is uppermost in his mind, Aristotle seems to find only a
verbal difference between Plato and the Pythagoreans. The metaphor of
“participation” was merely substituted for that of “imitation.” This is
not the place to discuss the meaning of Plato’s so-called “theory of
ideas”; but it must be pointed out that Aristotle’s ascription of the
doctrine of “imitation” to the Pythagoreans is abundantly justified by
the _Phaedo_. The arguments for immortality given in the early part of
that dialogue come from various sources. Those derived from the doctrine
of Reminiscence, which has sometimes been supposed to be Pythagorean,
are only known to the Pythagoreans by hearsay, and Simmias requires to
have the whole psychology of the subject explained to him.[845] When,
however, we come to the question what it is that our sensations remind
us of, his attitude changes. The view that the equal itself is alone
real, and that what we call equal things are imperfect imitations of it,
is quite familiar to him.[846] He requires no proof of it, and is
finally convinced of the immortality of the soul just because Sokrates
makes him see that the theory of forms implies it.

Footnote 845:

  Plato, _Phd._ 73 a sqq.

Footnote 846:

  _Ibid._ 74 a sqq.

It is also to be observed that Sokrates does not introduce the theory as
a novelty. The reality of the “ideas” is the sort of reality “we are
always talking about,” and they are explained in a peculiar vocabulary
which is represented as that of a school. The technical terms are
introduced by such formulas as “we say.”[847] Whose theory is it? It is
usually supposed to be Plato’s own, though nowadays it is the fashion to
call it his “early theory of ideas,” and to say that he modified it
profoundly in later life. But there are serious difficulties in this
view. Plato is very careful to tell us that he was not present at the
conversation recorded in the _Phaedo_. Did any philosopher ever propound
a new theory of his own by representing it as already familiar to a
number of distinguished living contemporaries? It is not easy to believe
that. It would be rash, on the other hand, to ascribe the theory to
Sokrates, and there seems nothing for it but to suppose that the
doctrine of “forms” (εἴδη, ἰδέαι) originally took shape in Pythagorean
circles, perhaps under Sokratic influence. There is nothing startling in
this. It is a historical fact that Simmias and Kebes were not only
Pythagoreans but disciples of Sokrates; for, by a happy chance, the good
Xenophon has included them in his list of true Sokratics.[848] We have
also sufficient ground for believing that the Megarians had adopted a
like theory under similar influences, and Plato states expressly that
Eukleides and Terpsion of Megara were present at the conversation
recorded in the _Phaedo_. There were, no doubt, more “friends of the
ideas”[849] than we generally recognise. It is certain, in any case,
that the use of the words εἴδη and ἰδέαι to express ultimate realities
is pre-Platonic, and it seems most natural to regard it as of
Pythagorean origin.[850]

Footnote 847:

  Cf. especially the words ὃ θρυλοῦμεν ἀεί (76 d 8). The phrases αὐτὸ ὃ
  ἔστιν, αὐτὸ καθ’ αὑτό, and the like are assumed to be familiar. “We”
  define reality by means of question and answer, in the course of which
  “we” give an account of its being (ἧς λόγον δίδομεν τοῦ εἶναι, 78 d 1,
  where λόγον ... τοῦ εἶναι is equivalent to λόγον τῆς οὐσίας). When we
  have done this, “we” set the seal or stamp of αὐτὸ ὃ ἔστιν upon it (75
  d 2). Technical terminology implies a school. As Diels puts it
  (_Elementum_, p. 20), it is in a school that “the simile concentrates
  into a metaphor, and the metaphor condenses into a term.”

Footnote 848:

  Xen. _Mem._ i. 2, 48.

Footnote 849:

  Plato, _Soph._ 248 a 4.

Footnote 850:

  See Diels, _Elementum_, pp. 16 sqq. Parmenides had already called the
  original Pythagorean “elements” μορφαί (§ 91), and Philistion called
  the “elements” of Empedokles ἰδέαι. If the ascription of this
  terminology to the Pythagoreans is correct, we may say that the
  Pythagorean “forms” developed into the atoms of Leukippos and
  Demokritos on the one hand (§ 174), and into the “ideas” of Plato on
  the other.

We have really exceeded the limits of this work by tracing the history
of Pythagoreanism down to a point where it becomes practically
indistinguishable from the earliest form of Platonism; but it was
necessary to do so in order to put the statements of our authorities in
their true light. Aristoxenos is not likely to have been mistaken with
regard to the opinions of the men he had known personally, and
Aristotle’s statements must have had some foundation. We must assume,
then, a later form of Pythagoreanism which was closely akin to early
Platonism. That, however, is not the form of it which concerns us here,
and we shall see in the next chapter that the fifth-century doctrine was
of the more primitive type already described.




                              CHAPTER VIII
                          THE YOUNGER ELEATICS


[Sidenote: Relation to predecessors.]

154. The systems we have just been studying were all fundamentally
pluralist, and they were so because Parmenides had shown that, if we
take a corporeal monism seriously, we must ascribe to reality a number
of predicates which are inconsistent with our experience of a world
which everywhere displays multiplicity, motion, and change (§ 97). The
four “roots” of Empedokles and the innumerable “seeds” of Anaxagoras
were both of them conscious attempts to solve the problem which
Parmenides had raised (§§ 106, 127). There is no evidence, indeed, that
the Pythagoreans were directly influenced by Parmenides, but it has been
shown (§ 147) how the later form of their system was based on the theory
of Empedokles. Now it was just this prevailing pluralism that Zeno
criticised from the Eleatic standpoint; and his arguments were
especially directed against Pythagoreanism. Melissos, too, criticises
Pythagoreanism; but he tries to find a common ground with his
adversaries by maintaining the old Ionian thesis that reality is
infinite.


                            I. ZENO OF ELEA

[Sidenote: Life.]

155. According to Apollodoros,[851] Zeno flourished in Ol. LXXIX.
(464-460 B.C.). This date is arrived at by making him forty years
younger than his master Parmenides. We have seen already (§ 84) that the
meeting of Parmenides and Zeno with the young Sokrates cannot well have
occurred before 449 B.C., and Plato tells us that Zeno was at that time
“nearly forty years old.”[852] He must, then, have been born about 489
B.C., some twenty-five years after Parmenides. He was the son of
Teleutagoras, and the statement of Apollodoros that he had been adopted
by Parmenides is only a misunderstanding of an expression of Plato’s
_Sophist_.[853] He was, Plato further tells us,[854] tall and of a
graceful appearance.

Footnote 851:

  Diog. ix. 29 (R. P. 130 a). Apollodoros is not expressly referred to
  for Zeno’s date; but, as he is quoted for his father’s name (ix. 25;
  R. P. 130), there can be no doubt that he is also the source of the
  _floruit_.

Footnote 852:

  Plato, _Parm._ 127 b (R. P. 111 d). The visit of Zeno to Athens is
  confirmed by Plut. _Per._ 4 (R. P. 130 e), where we are told that
  Perikles “heard” him as well as Anaxagoras. It is also alluded to in
  _Alc._ I. 119 a, where we are told that Pythodoros, son of Isolochos,
  and Kallias, son of Kalliades, each paid him 100 minae for
  instruction.

Footnote 853:

  Plato, _Soph._ 241 d (R. P. 130 a).

Footnote 854:

  Plato, _Parm._, _loc. cit._

Like Parmenides and most other early philosophers, Zeno seems to have
played a part in the politics of his native city. Strabo ascribes to him
some share of the credit for the good government of Elea, and says that
he was a Pythagorean.[855] This statement can easily be explained.
Parmenides, we have seen, was originally a Pythagorean, and the school
of Elea was no doubt popularly regarded as a mere branch of the larger
society. We hear also that Zeno conspired against a tyrant, whose name
is differently given, and the story of his courage under torture is
often repeated, though with varying details.[856]

Footnote 855:

  Strabo, vi. p. 252 (R. P. 111 c).

Footnote 856:

  Diog. ix. 26, 27, and the other passages referred to in R. P. 130 c.

[Sidenote: Writings.]

156. Diogenes speaks of Zeno’s “books,” and Souidas gives some titles
which probably come from the Alexandrian librarians through Hesychios of
Miletos.[857] In the _Parmenides_, Plato makes Zeno say that the work by
which he is best known was written in his youth and published against
his will.[858] As he is supposed to be forty years old at the time of
the dialogue, this must mean that the book was written before 460 B.C.
(§ 84), and it is very possible that he wrote others after it. The most
remarkable title which has come down to us is that of the
_Interpretation of Empedokles_. It is not to be supposed, of course,
that Zeno wrote a commentary on the Poem of Empedokles; but, as Diels
has pointed out,[859] it is quite credible that he should have written
an attack on it, which was afterwards called by that name. If he wrote a
work against the “philosophers,” that must mean the Pythagoreans, who,
as we have seen, made use of the term in a sense of their own.[860] The
_Disputations_ and the _Treatise on Nature_ may, or may not, be the same
as the book described in Plato’s _Parmenides_.

Footnote 857:

  Diog. ix. 26 (R. P. 130); Suidas _s.v._ (R. P. 130 d).

Footnote 858:

  Plato, _Parm._ 128 d 6 (R. P. 130 d).

Footnote 859:

  _Berl. Sitzb._, 1884, p. 359.

Footnote 860:

  See above, p. 321, _n._ 740. It hardly seems likely that a later
  writer would make Zeno argue πρὸς τοὺς φιλοσόφους, and the title given
  to the book at Alexandria must be based on something contained in it.

It is not likely that Zeno wrote dialogues, though certain references in
Aristotle have been supposed to imply this. In the _Physics_[861] we
hear of an argument of Zeno’s, that any part of a heap of millet makes a
sound, and Simplicius illustrates this by quoting a passage from a
dialogue between Zeno and Protagoras.[862] If our chronology is right,
there is nothing impossible in the idea that the two men may have met;
but it is most unlikely that Zeno should have made himself a personage
in a dialogue of his own. That was a later fashion. In another place
Aristotle refers to a passage where “the answerer and Zeno the
questioner” occurred,[863] a reference which is most easily to be
understood in the same way. Alkidamas seems to have written a dialogue
in which Gorgias figured,[864] and the exposition of Zeno’s arguments in
dialogue form must always have been a tempting exercise. It appears also
that Aristotle made Alexamenos the first writer of dialogues.[865]

Footnote 861:

  Arist. _Phys._ Η, 5. 250 a 20 (R. P. 131 a).

Footnote 862:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 1108, 18 (R. P. 131). If this is what Aristotle
  refers to, it is hardly safe to attribute the κεγχρίτης λόγος to Zeno
  himself. It is worth noting that the existence of this dialogue is
  another indication of Zeno’s visit to Athens at an age when he could
  converse with Protagoras, which agrees very well with Plato’s
  representation of the matter.

Footnote 863:

  Arist. _Soph. El._ 170 b 22 (R. P. 130 b).

Footnote 864:

  Chap. V. p. 231, _n._ 512.

Footnote 865:

  Diog. iii. 48. It is certain that the authority whom Diogenes follows
  here took the statement of Aristotle to mean that Alexamenos was the
  first writer of prose dialogues.

Plato gives us a clear idea of what Zeno’s youthful work was like. It
contained more than one “discourse,” and these discourses were
subdivided into sections, each dealing with some one presupposition of
his adversaries.[866] We owe the preservation of Zeno’s arguments on the
one and many to Simplicius.[867] Those relating to motion have been
preserved by Aristotle himself;[868] but, as usual, he has restated them
in his own language.

Footnote 866:

  Plato, _Parm._ 127 d. Plato speaks of the first ὑπόθεσις of the first
  λόγος, which shows that the book was really divided into separate
  sections. Proclus (_in loc._) says there were forty of these λόγοι
  altogether.

Footnote 867:

  Simplicius expressly says in one place (p. 140, 30; R. P. 133) that he
  is quoting κατὰ λέξιν. I now see no reason to doubt this, as the
  Academy would certainly have a copy of the work. If so, the fact that
  the fragments are not written in Ionic is another confirmation of
  Zeno’s residence at Athens.

Footnote 868:

  Arist. _Phys._ Ζ, 9. 239 b 9 sqq.

[Sidenote: Dialectic.]

157. Aristotle in his _Sophist_[869] called Zeno the inventor of
dialectic, and this, no doubt, is substantially true, though the
beginnings at least of that method of arguing were contemporary with the
foundation of the Eleatic school. Plato[870] gives us a spirited account
of the style and purpose of Zeno’s book, which he puts into his own
mouth:—

  In reality, this writing is a sort of reinforcement for the argument
  of Parmenides against those who try to turn it into ridicule on the
  ground that, if reality is one, the argument becomes involved in many
  absurdities and contradictions. This writing argues against those who
  uphold a Many, and gives them back as good and better than they gave;
  its aim is to show that their assumption of multiplicity will be
  involved in still more absurdities than the assumption of unity, if it
  is sufficiently worked out.

Footnote 869:

  Cf. Diog. ix. 25 (R. P. 130).

Footnote 870:

  Plato, _Parm._ 128 c (R. P. 130 d).

The method of Zeno was, in fact, to take one of his adversaries’
fundamental postulates and deduce from it two contradictory
conclusions.[871] This is what Aristotle meant by calling him the
inventor of dialectic, which is just the art of arguing, not from true
premisses, but from premisses admitted by the other side. The theory of
Parmenides had led to conclusions which contradicted the evidence of the
senses, and Zeno’s object was not to bring fresh proofs of the theory
itself, but simply to show that his opponents’ view led to
contradictions of a precisely similar nature.

Footnote 871:

  The technical terms used in Plato’s _Parmenides_ seem to be as old as
  Zeno himself. The ὑπόθεσις is the provisional assumption of the truth
  of a certain statement, and takes the form εἰ πολλά ἐστι or the like.
  The word does not mean the assumption of something as a foundation,
  but the setting before one’s self of a statement as a problem to be
  solved (Ionic ὑποθέσθαι, Attic προθέσθαι). If the conclusions which
  necessarily follow from the ὑπόθεσις (τὰ συμβαίνοντα) are impossible,
  the ὑπόθεσις is “destroyed” (cf. Plato, _Rep._ 533 c 8, τὰς ὑποθέσεις
  ἀναιροῦσα). The author of the Περὶ ἀρχαίης ἰατρικῆς (c 1) knows the
  word ὑπόθεσις in a similar sense.

[Sidenote: Zeno and Pythagoreanism.]

158. That Zeno’s dialectic was mainly directed against the Pythagoreans
is certainly suggested by Plato’s statement, that it was addressed to
the adversaries of Parmenides, who held that things were “a many.”[872]
Zeller holds, indeed, that it was merely the popular form of the belief
that things are many that Zeno set himself to confute;[873] but it is
surely not true that ordinary people believe things to be “a many” in
the sense required. Plato tells us that the premisses of Zeno’s
arguments were the beliefs of the adversaries of Parmenides, and the
postulate from which all his contradictions are derived is the view that
space, and therefore body, is made up of a number of discrete units,
which is just the Pythagorean doctrine. Nor is it at all probable that
Anaxagoras is aimed at.[874] We know from Plato that Zeno’s book was the
work of his youth.[875] Suppose even that it was written when he was
thirty, that is to say, about 459 B.C., Anaxagoras had just taken up his
abode at Athens at that time,[876] and it is very unlikely that Zeno had
ever heard of him. There is, on the other hand, a great deal to be said
for the view that Anaxagoras had read the work of Zeno, and that his
emphatic adhesion to the doctrine of infinite divisibility was due to
the criticism of his younger contemporary.[877]

Footnote 872:

  The view that Zeno’s arguments were directed against Pythagoreanism
  has been maintained in recent times by Tannery (_Science hellène_, pp.
  249 sqq.), and Bäumker (_Das Problem der Materie_, pp. 60 sqq.).

Footnote 873:

  Zeller, p. 589 (Eng. trans. p. 612).

Footnote 874:

  This is the view of Stallbaum in his edition of the _Parmenides_ (pp.
  25 sqq.).

Footnote 875:

  _Parm._, _loc. cit._

Footnote 876:

  Chap. VI. § 120.

Footnote 877:

  Cf. for instance Anaxagoras, fr. 3, with Zeno, fr. 2; and Anaxagoras,
  fr. 5, with Zeno, fr. 3.

It will be noted how much clearer the historical position of Zeno
becomes if we follow Plato in assigning him to a somewhat later date
than is usual. We have first Parmenides, then the pluralists, and then
the criticism of Zeno. This, at any rate, seems to have been the view
which Aristotle took of the historical development.[878]

Footnote 878:

  Arist. _Phys._ Α, 3. 187 a 1 (R. P. 134 b). See below, § 173.

[Sidenote: What is the unit?]

159. The polemic of Zeno is clearly directed in the first instance
against a certain view of the unit. Eudemos, in his _Physics_,[879]
quoted from him the saying that “if any one could tell him what the one
was, he would be able to say what things are.” The commentary of
Alexander on this, preserved by Simplicius,[880] is quite satisfactory.
“As Eudemos relates,” he says, “Zeno the disciple of Parmenides tried to
show that it was impossible that things could be a many, seeing that
there was no unit in things, whereas ‘many’ means a number of units.”
Here we have a clear reference to the Pythagorean view that everything
may be reduced to a sum of units, which is what Zeno denied.[881]

Footnote 879:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 138, 32 (R. P. 134 a).

Footnote 880:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 99, 13, ὡς γὰρ ἰστορεῖ, φησίν (Ἀλέξανδρος), Εὔδημος,
  Ζήνων ὁ Παρμενίδου γνώριμος ἐπειρᾶτο δεικνύναι ὅτι μὴ οἷόν τε τὰ ὄντα
  πολλὰ εἶναι τῷ μηδὲν εἶναι ἐν τοῖς οὖσιν ἕν, τὰ δὲ πολλὰ πλῆθος εἶναι
  ἐνάδων. This is the meaning of the statement that Zeno ἀνῄρει τὸ ἕν,
  which is not Alexander’s (as implied in R. P. 134 a), but goes back to
  no less an authority than Eudemos. It is perfectly correct when read
  in connexion with the words τὴν γὰρ στιγμὴν ὡς τὸ ἓν λέγει (Simpl.
  _Phys._ p. 99, 11).

Footnote 881:

  It is quite in order that Mr. Bertrand Russell, from the standpoint of
  pluralism, should accept Zeno’s arguments as “immeasurably subtle and
  profound” (_Principles of Mathematics_, p. 347). We know from Plato,
  however, that Zeno meant them as a _reductio ad absurdum_ of
  pluralism.

[Sidenote: The Fragments.]

160. The fragments of Zeno himself also show that this was his line of
argument. I give them according to the arrangement of Diels.

                                   (1)

  If the one had no magnitude, it would not even be.... But, if it is,
  each one must have a certain magnitude and a certain thickness, and
  must be at a certain distance from another, and the same may be said
  of what is in front of it; for it, too, will have magnitude, and
  something will be in front of it.[882] It is all the same to say this
  once and to say it always; for no such part of it will be the last,
  nor will one thing not be compared with another.[883] So, if things
  are a many, they must be both small and great, so small as not to have
  any magnitude at all, and so great as to be infinite. R. P. 134.

Footnote 882:

    I formerly rendered “the same may be said of what surpasses it in
    smallness; for it too will have magnitude, and something will
    surpass it in smallness.” This is Tannery’s rendering, but I now
    agree with Diels in thinking that ἀπέχειν refers to μέγεθος and
    προεχειν to πάχος. Zeno is showing that the Pythagorean point has
    really three dimensions.

Footnote 883:

    Reading, with Diels and the MSS., οὔτε ἕτερον πρὸς ἕτερον οὐκ ἔσται.
    Gomperz’s conjecture (adopted in R. P.) seems to me arbitrary.

                                   (2)

  For if it were added to any other thing it would not make it any
  larger; for nothing can gain in magnitude by the addition of what has
  no magnitude, and thus it follows at once that what was added was
  nothing.[884] But if, when this is taken away from another thing, that
  thing is no less; and again, if, when it is added to another thing,
  that does not increase, it is plain that what was added was nothing,
  and what was taken away was nothing. R. P. 132.

Footnote 884:

    Zeller marks a lacuna here. Zeno must certainly have shown that the
    subtraction of a point does not make a thing less; but he may have
    done so before the beginning of our present fragment.

                                   (3)

  If things are a many, they must be just as many as they are, and
  neither more nor less. Now, if they are as many as they are, they will
  be finite in number.

  If things are a many, they will be infinite in number; for there will
  always be other things between them, and others again between these.
  And so things are infinite in number. R. P. 133.[885]

Footnote 885:

  This is what Aristotle calls “the argument from dichotomy” (_Phys._ Α,
  3. 187 a 1; R. P. 134 b). If a line is made up of points, we ought to
  be able to answer the question, “How many points are there in a given
  line?” On the other hand, you can always divide a line or any part of
  it into two halves; so that, if a line is made up of points, there
  will always be more of them than any number you assign.

[Sidenote: The unit.]

161. If we hold that the unit has no magnitude—and this is required by
what Aristotle calls the argument from dichotomy,[886]—then everything
must be infinitely small. Nothing made up of units without magnitude can
itself have any magnitude. On the other hand, if we insist that the
units of which things are built up are something and not nothing, we
must hold that everything is infinitely great. The line is infinitely
divisible; and, according to this view, it will be made up of an
infinite number of units, each of which has some magnitude.

Footnote 886:

  See last note.

That this argument refers to points is proved by an instructive passage
from Aristotle’s _Metaphysics_.[887] We read there—

  If the unit is indivisible, it will, according to the proposition of
  Zeno, be nothing. That which neither makes anything larger by its
  addition to it, nor smaller by its subtraction from it, is not, he
  says, a real thing at all; for clearly what is real must be a
  magnitude. And, if it is a magnitude, it is corporeal; for that is
  corporeal which is in every dimension. The other things, _i.e._ the
  plane and the line, if added in one way will make things larger, added
  in another they will produce no effect; but the point and the unit
  cannot make things larger in any way.

Footnote 887:

  Arist. _Met._ Β, 4. 1001 b 7.

From all this it seems impossible to draw any other conclusion than that
the “one” against which Zeno argued was the “one” of which a number
constitute a “many,” and that is just the Pythagorean unit.

[Sidenote: Space.]

162. Aristotle refers to an argument which seems to be directed against
the Pythagorean doctrine of space,[888] and Simplicius quotes it in this
form:[889]

  If there is space, it will be in something; for all that is is in
  something, and what is in something is in space. So space will be in
  space, and this goes on _ad infinitum_, therefore there is no space.
  R. P. 135.

Footnote 888:

  Arist. _Phys._ Δ, 1. 209 a 23; 3. 210 b 22 (R. P. 135 a).

Footnote 889:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 562, 3 (R. P. 135). The version of Eudemos is given
  in Simpl. _Phys._ p. 563, 26, ἀξιοῖ γὰρ πᾶν τὸ ὂν ποῦ εἷναι· εἱ δὲ ὁ
  τόπος τῶν ὄντων, ποῦ ἂν εἴη· οὐκοῦν ἐν ἄλλῳ τόπῳ κἀκεῖνος δὴ ἐν ἄλλῳ
  καὶ οὕτως εἰς τὸ πρόσω.

What Zeno is really arguing against here is the attempt to distinguish
space from the body that occupies it. If we insist that body must be
_in_ space, then we must go on to ask what space itself is in. This is a
“reinforcement” of the Parmenidean denial of the void. Possibly the
argument that everything must be “in” something, or must have something
beyond it, had been used against the Parmenidean theory of a finite
sphere with nothing outside it.

[Sidenote: Motion.]

163. Zeno’s arguments on the subject of motion have been preserved by
Aristotle himself. The system of Parmenides made all motion impossible,
and his successors had been driven to abandon the monistic hypothesis in
order to avoid this very consequence. Zeno does not bring any fresh
proofs of the impossibility of motion; all he does is to show that a
pluralist theory, such as the Pythagorean, is just as unable to explain
it as was that of Parmenides. Looked at in this way, Zeno’s arguments
are no mere quibbles, but mark a great advance in the conception of
quantity. They are as follows:—

  (1) You cannot get to the end of a race-course.[890] You cannot
  traverse an infinite number of points in a finite time. You must
  traverse the half of any given distance before you traverse the whole,
  and the half of that again before you can traverse it. This goes on
  _ad infinitum_, so that there are an infinite number of points in any
  given space, and you cannot touch an infinite number one by one in a
  finite time.[891]

  (2) Achilles will never overtake the tortoise. He must first reach the
  place from which the tortoise started. By that time the tortoise will
  have got some way ahead. Achilles must then make up that, and again
  the tortoise will be ahead. He is always coming nearer, but he never
  makes up to it.[892]

Footnote 890:

  Arist. _Top._ Θ, 8. 160 b 8, Ζήνωνος (λόγος), ὅτι οὐκ ἐνδέχεται
  κινεῖσθαι οὐδὲ τὸ στάδιον διελθεῖν.

Footnote 891:

  Arist. _Phys._ Ζ, 9. 239 b 11 (R. P. 136). Cf. Ζ, 2. 233 a 11; a 21
  (R. P. 136 a).

Footnote 892:

  Arist. _Phys._ Ζ, 9. 239 b 14 (R. P. 137).

The “hypothesis” of the second argument is the same as that in the
first, namely, that the line is a series of points; but the reasoning is
complicated by the introduction of another moving object. The
difference, accordingly, is not a half every time, but diminishes in a
constant ratio. Again, the first argument shows that no moving object
can ever traverse any distance at all, however fast it may move; the
second emphasises the fact that, however slowly it moves, it will
traverse an infinite distance.

  (3) The arrow in flight is at rest. For, if everything is at rest when
  it occupies a space equal to itself, and what is in flight at any
  given moment always occupies a space equal to itself, it cannot
  move.[893]

Footnote 893:

  _Phys._ Ζ, 9. 239 b 30 (R. P. 138); _ib._ 239 b 5 (R. P. 138 a). The
  latter passage is corrupt, though the meaning is plain. I have
  translated Zeller’s version of it εἰ γάρ, φησίν, ἠρεμεῖ πᾶν ὅταν ᾖ
  κατὰ τὸ ἴσον, ἔστι δ’ ἀεὶ τὸ φερόμενον ἐν τῷ νῦν κατὰ τὸ ἴσον,
  ἀκίνητον, κ.τ.λ. Of course ἀεί means “at any time,” not “always,” and
  κατὰ τὸ ἴσον is, literally, “on a level with a space equal (to
  itself).” For other readings, see Zeller, p. 598, n. 3; and Diels,
  _Vors._ p. 131, 44.

Here a further complication is introduced. The moving object itself has
length, and its successive positions are not points but lines. The
successive moments in which it occupies them are still, however, points
of time. It may help to make this clear if we remember that the flight
of the arrow as represented by the cinematograph would be exactly of
this nature.

  (4) Half the time may be equal to double the time. Let us suppose
  three rows of bodies,[894] one of which (A) is at rest while the other
  two (B, C) are moving with equal velocity in opposite directions (Fig.
  1). By the time they are all in the same part of the course, B will
  have passed twice as many of the bodies in C as in A (Fig. 2).

       FIG. 1

  A.            ●   ●   ●   ●

  B.    ●   ●   ●   ●    →

  C.      ←             ●   ●    ●   ●

       FIG. 2

  A.   ●   ●   ●   ●

  B.   ●   ●   ●   ●

  C.   ●   ●   ●   ●

  Therefore the time which it takes to pass C is twice as long as the
  time it takes to pass A. But the time which B and C take to reach the
  position of A is the same. Therefore double the time is equal to the
  half.[895]

Footnote 894:

  The word is ὄγκοι; cf. Chap. VII. p. 338, _n._ 794. The name is very
  appropriate for the Pythagorean units, which Zeno had shown to have
  length, breadth, and thickness (fr. 1).

Footnote 895:

  Arist. _Phys._ Ζ, 9. 239 b 33 (R. P. 139). I have had to express the
  argument in my own way, as it is not fully given by any of the
  authorities. The figure is practically Alexander’s (Simpl. _Phys._ p.
  1016, 14), except that he represents the ὄγκοι by letters instead of
  dots. The conclusion is plainly stated by Aristotle (_loc. cit._),
  συμβαίνειν οἴεται ἴσον εἶναι χρόνον τῷ διπλασίῳ τὸν ἥμισυν, and,
  however we explain the reasoning, it must be so represented as to lead
  to this conclusion.

According to Aristotle, the paralogism here depends upon the assumption
that an equal magnitude moving with equal velocity must move for an
equal time, whether the magnitude with which it is equal is at rest or
in motion. That is certainly so, but we are not to suppose that this
assumption is Zeno’s own. The fourth argument is, in fact, related to
the third just as the second is to the first. The Achilles adds a second
moving point to the single moving point of the first argument; this
argument adds a second moving line to the single moving line of the
arrow in flight. The lines, however, are represented as a series of
units, which is just how the Pythagoreans represented them; and it is
quite true that, if lines are a sum of discrete units, and time is
similarly a series of discrete moments, there is no other measure of
motion possible than the number of units which each unit passes.

This argument, like the others, is intended to bring out the absurd
conclusions which follow from the assumption that all quantity is
discrete, and what Zeno has really done is to establish the conception
of continuous quantity by a _reductio ad absurdum_ of the other
hypothesis. If we remember that Parmenides had asserted the one to be
continuous (fr. 8, 25), we shall see how accurate is the account of
Zeno’s method which Plato puts into the mouth of Sokrates.


                         II. MELISSOS OF SAMOS

[Sidenote: Life.]

164. In his Life of Perikles, Plutarch tells us, on the authority of
Aristotle, that the philosopher Melissos, son of Ithagenes, was the
Samian general who defeated the Athenian fleet in 441/0 B.C.:[896] and
it was no doubt for this reason that Apollodoros fixed his _floruit_ in
Ol. LXXXIV. (444-41 B.C.).[897] Beyond this, we really know nothing
about his life. He is said to have been, like Zeno, a disciple of
Parmenides;[898] but, as he was a Samian, it is possible that he was
originally a member of the Ionic school, and we shall see that certain
features of his doctrine tend to bear out this view. On the other hand,
he was certainly convinced by the Eleatic dialectic, and renounced the
Ionic doctrine in so far as it was inconsistent with that. We note here
the effect of the increased facility of intercourse between East and
West, which was secured by the supremacy of Athens.

Footnote 896:

  Plut. _Per._ 26 (R. P. 141 b), from Aristotle’s Σαμίων πολιτεία.

[Sidenote: The Fragments.]

165. The fragments which we have come from Simplicius, and are given,
with the exception of the first, from the text of Diels.[899]

Footnote 897:

  Diog. ix. 24 (R. P. 141). It is possible, of course, that Apollodoros
  meant the first and not the fourth year of the Olympiad. That is his
  usual era, the foundation of Thourioi. But, on the whole, it is more
  likely that he meant the fourth; for the date of the ναυαρχία would be
  given with precision. See Jacoby, p. 270.

Footnote 898:

  Diog. ix. 24 (R. P. 141).

Footnote 899:

  It is no longer necessary to discuss the passages which used to appear
  as frs. 1-5 of Melissos, as it has been proved by A. Pabst that they
  are merely a paraphrase of the genuine fragments (_De Melissi Samii
  fragmentis_, Bonn, 1889). Almost simultaneously I had independently
  come to the same conclusion (see the first edition, § 138). Zeller and
  Diels have both accepted Pabst’s demonstration, and the supposed
  fragments have been relegated to the notes in the last edition of R.
  P. I still believe, however, that the fragment which I have numbered
  1_a_ is genuine. See next note.

  (1_a_) If nothing is, what can be said of it as of something
  real?[900]

  (1) What was was ever, and ever shall be. For, if it had come into
  being, it needs must have been nothing before it came into being. Now,
  if it were nothing, in no wise could anything have arisen out of
  nothing. R. P. 142.

  (2) Since, then, it has not come into being, and since it is, was
  ever, and ever shall be, it has no beginning or end, but is without
  limit. For, if it had come into being, it would have had a beginning
  (for it would have begun to come into being at some time or other) and
  an end (for it would have ceased to come into being at some time or
  other); but, if it neither began nor ended, and ever was and ever
  shall be, it has no beginning or end; for it is not possible for
  anything to be ever without all being. R. P. 143.

  (3) Further, just as it ever is, so it must ever be infinite in
  magnitude. R. P. 143.

  (4) But nothing which has a beginning or end is either eternal or
  infinite. R. P. 143.

  (5) If it were not one, it would be bounded by something else. R. P.
  144 a.

  (6) For if it is (infinite), it must be one; for if it were two, it
  could not be infinite; for then they would be bounded by one
  another.[901] R. P. 144.

  (6_a_) (And, since it is one, it is alike throughout; for if it were
  unlike, it would be many and not one.)[902]

  (7) So then it is eternal and infinite and one and all alike. And it
  cannot perish nor become greater, nor does it suffer pain or grief.
  For, if any of these things happened to it, it would no longer be one.
  For if it is altered, then the real must needs not be all alike, but
  what was before must pass away, and what was not must come into being.
  Now, if it changed by so much as a single hair in ten thousand years,
  it would all perish in the whole of time.

  Further, it is not possible either that its order should be changed;
  for the order which it had before does not perish, nor does that which
  was not come into being. But, since nothing is either added to it or
  passes away or is altered, how can any real thing have had its order
  changed? For if anything became different, that would amount to a
  change in its order.

  Nor does it suffer pain; for a thing in pain could not all be. For a
  thing in pain could not be ever, nor has it the same power as what is
  whole. Nor would it be alike, if it were in pain; for it is only from
  the addition or subtraction of something that it could feel pain, and
  then it would no longer be alike. Nor could what is whole feel pain;
  for then what was whole and what was real would pass away, and what
  was not would come into being. And the same argument applies to grief
  as to pain.

  Nor is anything empty. For what is empty is nothing. What is nothing
  cannot be.

  Nor does it move; for it has nowhere to betake itself to, but is full.
  For if there were aught empty, it would betake itself to the empty.
  But, since there is naught empty, it has nowhere to betake itself to.

  And it cannot be dense and rare; for it is not possible for what is
  rare to be as full as what is dense, but what is rare is at once
  emptier than what is dense.

  This is the way in which we must distinguish between what is full and
  what is not full. If a thing has room for anything else, and takes it
  in, it is not full; but if it has no room for anything and does not
  take it in, it is full.

  Now, it must needs be full if there is naught empty, and if it is
  full, it does not move. R. P. 145.

  (8) This argument, then, is the greatest proof that it is one alone;
  but the following are proofs of it also. If there were a many, these
  would have to be of the same kind as I say that the one is. For if
  there is earth and water, and air and iron, and gold and fire, and if
  one thing is living and another dead, and if things are black and
  white and all that men say they really are,—if that is so, and if we
  see and hear aright, each one of these must be such as we first
  decided, and they cannot be changed or altered, but each must be just
  as it is. But, as it is, we say that we see and hear and understand
  aright, and yet we believe that what is warm becomes cold, and what is
  cold warm; that what is hard turns soft, and what is soft hard; that
  what is living dies, and that things are born from what lives not; and
  that all those things are changed, and that what they were and what
  they are now are in no way alike. We think that iron, which is hard,
  is rubbed away by contact with the finger;[903] and so with gold and
  stone and everything which we fancy to be strong, and that earth and
  stone are made out of water; so that it turns out that we neither see
  nor know realities. Now these things do not agree with one another. We
  said that there were many things that were eternal and had forms and
  strength of their own, and yet we fancy that they all suffer
  alteration, and that they change from what we see each time. It is
  clear, then, that we did not see aright after all, nor are we right in
  believing that all these things are many. They would not change if
  they were real, but each thing would be just what we believed it to
  be; for nothing is stronger than true reality. But if it has changed,
  what was has passed away, and what was not is come into being. So
  then, if there were many things, they would have to be just of the
  same nature as the one. R. P. 147.

  (9) Now, if it were to exist, it must needs be one; but if it is one,
  it cannot have body; for, if it had body it would have parts, and
  would no longer be one. R. P. 146.[904]

  (10) If what is real is divided, it moves; but if it moves, it cannot
  be. R. P. 144 a.[905]

Footnote 900:

  These words come from the beginning of the paraphrase which was so
  long mistaken for the actual words of Melissos (Simpl. _Phys._ p. 103,
  18; R. P. 142 a), and Diels has accordingly removed them along with
  the rest. I believe them to be genuine because Simplicius, who had
  access to the complete work, introduces them by the words ἄρχεται τοῦ
  συγγράμματος οὕτως, and because they are thoroughly Eleatic in
  character. It is quite natural that the first words of the book should
  be prefixed to the paraphrase.

Footnote 901:

  This fragment is quoted by Simpl. _de Caelo_, p. 557, 16 (R. P. 144).
  The insertion of the word “infinite” is justified by the paraphrase
  (R. P. 144 a) and by _M.X.G._ 974 a 11, πᾶν δὲ ἄπειρον ὂν <ἓν> εἶναι·
  εἰ γὰρ δύο ἢ πλείω εἴη, πέρατ’ ἂν εἶναι ταῦτα πρὸς ἄλληλα.

Footnote 902:

  I have ventured to insert this, though the actual words are nowhere
  quoted, and it is not in Diels. It is represented in the paraphrase
  (R. P. 145 a) and in _M.X.G._ 974 a 13 (R. P. 144 a).

Footnote 903:

  Reading ὁμουρέων with Bergk. Diels keeps the MS. ὀμοῦ ῥέων; Zeller (p.
  613, n. 1) conjectures ὑπ’ ἰοῦ ῥέων.

Footnote 904:

  I read εἰ μὲν οὖν εἴη with E F for the εἰ μὲν ὂν εἴη of D. The ἐὸν
  which still stands in R. P. is a piece of local colour due to the
  editors. Diels also now reads οὖν (_Vors._ p. 149, 2).

Footnote 905:

  Diels now reads ἀλλὰ with E for the ἅμα of F, and attaches the word to
  the next sentence.

[Sidenote: Theory of reality.]

166. It has been pointed out that Melissos was perhaps not originally a
member of the Eleatic school; but he certainly adopted all the views of
Parmenides as to the true nature of reality with one remarkable
exception. He appears to have opened his treatise with a reassertion of
the Parmenidean “Nothing is not” (fr. 1 _a_), and the arguments by which
he supported this view are those with which we are already familiar (fr.
1). Reality, as with Parmenides, is eternal, an attribute which Melissos
expressed in a way of his own. He argued that since everything that has
come into being has a beginning and an end, everything that has not come
into being has no beginning or end. Aristotle is very severe upon him
for this simple conversion of a universal affirmative proposition;[906]
but, of course, his belief was not founded on that. His whole conception
of reality made it necessary for him to regard it as eternal.[907] It
would be a more serious matter if Aristotle were right in believing, as
he seems to have done,[908] that Melissos inferred that what is must be
infinite in space, because it had neither beginning nor end in time.
This, however, seems quite incredible. As we have the fragment which
Aristotle interprets in this way (fr. 2), we are quite entitled to
understand it for ourselves, and I cannot see anything to justify
Aristotle’s assumption that the expression “without limit” means without
limit in space.[909]

Footnote 906:

  Arist. _Phys._ Α, 3. 186 a 7 (R. P. 143 a). Aristotle finds two flaws
  in the Eleatic reasoning: (1) ψευδῆ λαμβάνουσιν; (2) ἀσυλλόγιστοί
  εἰσιν αὐτῶν οἱ λόγοι. This is the first of these flaws. It is also
  mentioned in _Soph. El._ 168 b 35 (R. P. _ib._). So Eudemos _ap._
  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 105, 24, οὐ γὰρ, εἰ τὸ γενόμενον ἀρχὴν ἔχει, τὸ μὴ
  γενόμενον ἀρχὴν οὐκ ἔχει, μᾶλλον δὲ τὸ μὴ ἔχον ἀρχὴν οὐκ ἐγένετο.

Footnote 907:

  The real reason is given in the paraphrase in Simpl. _Phys._ p. 103,
  21 (R. P. 142 a), συγχωρεῖται γὰρ καὶ τοῦτο ὑπὸ τῶν φυσικῶν, though of
  course Melissos himself would not have put it in that way. He regarded
  himself as a φυσικός like the rest; but, from the time of Aristotle,
  it was a commonplace that the Eleatics were not φυσικοί, since they
  denied motion.

Footnote 908:

  This has been denied by Offner, “Zur Beurtheilung des Melissos”
  (_Arch._ iv. pp. 12 sqq.), but I now think he goes too far. Cf.
  especially _Top._ ix. 6, ὡς ἄμφω ταὐτὰ ὄντα τῷ ἀρχὴν ἔχειν, τό τε
  γεγονὸς καὶ τὸ πεπερασμένον. The same point is made in _Soph. El._ 167
  b 13 and 181 a 27.

Footnote 909:

  The words ἀλλ’ ἄπειρόν ἐστι mean simply “but it is without limit,” and
  this is simply a repetition of the statement that it has no beginning
  or end. The nature of the limit can only be determined by the context,
  and accordingly, when Melissos does introduce the subject of spatial
  infinity, he is careful to say τὸ μέγεθος ἄπειρον (fr. 3).

[Sidenote: Reality spatially infinite.]

167. Melissos did indeed differ from Parmenides in holding that reality
was spatially as well as temporally infinite; but he gave an excellent
reason for this belief, and had no need to support it by the
extraordinary argument just alluded to. What he said was that, if it
were limited, it would be limited by empty space. This we know from
Aristotle himself,[910] and it marks a real advance upon Parmenides. He
had thought it possible to regard reality as a finite sphere, but it
would have been difficult for him to work out this view in detail. He
would have had to say there was nothing outside the sphere; but no one
knew better than he that there is no such thing as nothing. Melissos saw
that you cannot imagine a finite sphere without regarding it as
surrounded by an infinite empty space;[911] and as, in common with the
rest of the school, he denied the void (fr. 7), he was forced to say
reality was spatially infinite (fr. 3). It is possible that he was
influenced in this by his association with the Ionic school.

Footnote 910:

  Arist. _Gen. Corr._ i. 8. 325 a 14, ἓν καὶ ἀκίνητον τὸ πᾶν εἶναί φασι
  καὶ ἄπειρον ἔνιοι· τὸ γὰρ πέρας περαίνειν ἂν πρὸς τὸ κενόν. That this
  refers to Melissos has been proved by Zeller (p. 612, n. 2).

Footnote 911:

  Note the disagreement with Zeno (§ 162).

From the infinity of reality, it follows that it must be one; for, if it
were not one, it would be bounded by something else (fr. 5). And, being
one, it must be homogeneous throughout (fr. 6_a_), for that is what we
mean by one. Reality, then, is a single, homogeneous, corporeal
_plenum_, stretching out to infinity in space, and going backwards and
forwards to infinity in time.

[Sidenote: Opposition to Ionians.]

168. Eleaticism was always critical, and we are not without indications
of the attitude taken up by Melissos towards contemporary systems. The
flaw which he found in the Ionian theories was that they all assumed
some want of homogeneity in the One, which is a real inconsistency.
Further, they all allowed the possibility of change; but, if all things
are one, change must be a form of coming into being and passing away. If
you admit that a thing can change, you cannot maintain that it is
eternal. Nor can the arrangement of the parts of reality alter, as
Anaximander, for instance, had held; any such change necessarily
involves a coming into being and passing away.

The next point made by Melissos is somewhat peculiar. Reality, he says,
cannot feel sorrow or pain; for that is always due to the addition or
subtraction of something, which is impossible. It is not easy to be sure
what this refers to. Perhaps it is to the theory of Herakleitos with its
Want and Surfeit, perhaps to something of which no record has been
preserved.

Motion in general[912] and rarefaction and condensation in particular
are impossible; for both imply the existence of empty space.
Divisibility is excluded for the same reason. These are the same
arguments as Parmenides employed.

Footnote 912:

  The view of Bäumker that Melissos admitted ἀντιπερίστασις or motion
  _in pleno_ (_Jahrb. f. kl. Phil._, 1886, p. 541; _Das Problem der
  Materie_, p. 59) depends upon some words of Simplicius (_Phys._ p.
  104, 13), οὐχ ὅτι μὴ δυνατὸν διὰ πλήρους κινεῖσθαι, ὡς ἐπὶ τῶν σωμάτων
  λέγομεν κ.τ.λ. These words were formerly turned into Ionic and passed
  off as a fragment of Melissos. They are, however, part of Simplicius’s
  own argument against Alexander, and have nothing to do with Melissos
  at all.

[Sidenote: Opposition to Pythagoreans.]

169. In nearly all accounts of the system of Melissos, we find it stated
that he denied the corporeality of what is real,—an opinion which is
supported by a reference to fr. 9, which is certainly quoted by
Simplicius to prove this very point.[913] If, however, our general view
as to the character of early Greek Philosophy is correct, the statement
must seem incredible. And it will seem even more surprising when we find
that in the _Metaphysics_ Aristotle says that, while the unity of
Parmenides seemed to be ideal, that of Melissos was material.[914] Now
the fragment, as it stands in the MSS. of Simplicius,[915] puts a purely
hypothetical case, and would most naturally be understood as a disproof
of the existence of something on the ground that, if it existed, it
would have to be both corporeal and one. This cannot refer to the
Eleatic One, in which Melissos himself believed; and, as the argument is
almost verbally the same as one of Zeno’s,[916] it is natural to suppose
that it also was directed against the Pythagorean assumption of ultimate
units. The only possible objection is that Simplicius, who twice quotes
the fragment, certainly took it in the sense usually given to it.[917]
But it was very natural for him to make this mistake. “The One” was an
expression that had two senses in the middle of the fifth century B.C.;
it meant either the whole of reality or the point as a spatial unit. To
maintain it in the first sense, the Eleatics were obliged to disprove it
in the second; and so it sometimes seemed that they were speaking of
their own “One” when they really meant the other. We have seen that the
very same difficulty was felt about Zeno’s denial of the “one.”[918]

Footnote 913:

  See, however, Bäumker, _Das Problem der Materie_, pp. 57 sqq., who
  remarks that ἐόν (or ὄν) in fr. 9 must be the predicate, as it has no
  article. In his fifth edition (p. 611, n. 2) Zeller has adopted the
  view here taken. He rightly observes that the hypothetical form εἰ μὲν
  ὂν εἴη speaks for it, and that the subject to εἴη must be ἕκαστον τῶν
  πολλῶν, as with Zeno.

Footnote 914:

  _Met._ Α, 5. 986 b 18 (R. P. 101).

Footnote 915:

  Brandis changed the εἴη to ἔστι, but there is no warrant for this.

Footnote 916:

  Cf. Zeno, fr. 1, especially the words εἰ δὲ ἔστιν, ἀνάγκη ἕκαστον
  μέγεθός τι ἔχειν καὶ πάχος.

Footnote 917:

  Simpl. _Phys._ pp. 87, 6, and 110, 1.

Footnote 918:

  See above, § 159, p. 363, _n._ 880.

[Sidenote: Opposition to Anaxagoras.]

170. The most remarkable fragment of Melissos is, perhaps, the last (fr.
8). It seems to be directed against Anaxagoras; at least the language
used seems more applicable to him than to any one else. Anaxagoras had
admitted (§ 137, _fin._) that, so far as our perceptions go, they do not
entirely agree with his theory, though he held this was due solely to
their weakness. Melissos, taking advantage of this admission, urges
that, if we give up the senses as the ultimate test of reality, we are
not entitled to reject the Eleatic theory. With wonderful penetration he
points out that if we are to say, with Anaxagoras, that things are a
many, we are bound also to say that each one of them is such as the
Eleatics declared the One to be. In other words, the only consistent
pluralism is the atomic theory.

Melissos has long been unduly depreciated owing to the criticisms of
Aristotle; but these, we have seen, are based mainly on a somewhat
pedantic objection to the false conversion in the early part of the
argument. Melissos knew nothing about the rules of conversion; and if he
had, he could easily have made his reasoning formally correct without
modifying his system. His greatness consisted in this, that not only was
he the real systematiser of Eleaticism, but he was also able to see,
before the pluralists saw it themselves, the only way in which the
theory that things are a many could be consistently worked out.[919] It
is significant that Polybos, the nephew of Hippokrates, reproaches those
“sophists” who taught there was only one primary substance with “putting
the doctrine of Melissos on its feet.”[920]

Footnote 919:

  Bäumker, _op. cit._ p. 58, n. 3: “That Melissos was a weakling is a
  _fable convenue_ that people repeat after Aristotle, who was unable to
  appreciate the Eleatics in general, and in particular misunderstood
  Melissos not inconsiderably.”

Footnote 920:

  Περὶ φύσιος ἀνθρώπου, c. 1, ἀλλ’ ἔμοιγε δοκέουσιν οἱ τοιοῦτοι ἄνθρωποι
  αὐτοὶ ἑωυτοὺς καταβάλλειν ἐν τοῖσιν ὀνόμασι τῶν λόγων αὐτῶν ὑπὸ
  ἀσυνεσίης, τὸν δὲ Μελίσσου λόγον ὀρθοῦν. The metaphors are taken from
  wrestling, and were current at this date (cf. the καταβάλλοντες of
  Protagoras). Plato implies a more generous appreciation of Melissos
  than Aristotle’s. In _Theaet._ 180 e 2, he refers to the Eleatics as
  Μέλισσοί τε καὶ Παρμενίδαι, and in 183 e 4 he almost apologises for
  giving the pre-eminence to Parmenides.




                               CHAPTER IX
                          LEUKIPPOS OF MILETOS


[Sidenote: Leukippos and Demokritos.]

171. We have seen (§§ 31, 122) that the school of Miletos did not come
to an end with Anaximenes, and it is a striking fact that the man who
gave the most complete answer to the question first asked by Thales was
a Milesian.[921] It is true that the very existence of Leukippos has
been called in question. Epicurus said there never was such a
philosopher, and the same thing has been maintained in quite recent
times.[922] On the other hand, Aristotle and Theophrastos certainly made
him the originator of the atomic theory, and it still seems possible to
show they were right. Incidentally we shall see how later writers came
to ignore him, and thus made possible the sally of Epicurus.

Footnote 921:

  Theophrastos said he was an Eleate or a Milesian (R. P. 185), while
  Diogenes (ix. 30) says he was an Eleate or, according to some, an
  Abderite. These statements are exactly parallel to the discrepancies
  about the native cities of the Pythagoreans already noted (Chap. VII.
  p. 327, _n._ 763). Diogenes adds that, according to others, Leukippos
  was a Melian, which is a common confusion. Aetios (i. 7. 1) calls
  Diagoras of Melos a Milesian (cf. _Dox._ p. 14). Demokritos was called
  by some a Milesian (R. P. 186) for the same reason that Leukippos is
  called an Eleate. We may also compare the doubt as to whether
  Herodotos called himself a Halikarnassian or a Thourian.

Footnote 922:

  Diog. x. 13 (R. P. 185 b). The theory was revived by E. Rohde. For the
  literature of the controversy, see R. P. 185 b. Diels’s refutation of
  Rohde has convinced most competent judges. Brieger’s attempt to
  unsettle the question again (_Hermes_, xxxvi. pp. 166 sqq.) is only
  half-hearted, and quite unconvincing. As will be seen, however, I
  agree with his main contention that atomism comes after the systems of
  Empedokles and Anaxagoras.

The question is intimately bound up with that of the date of Demokritos,
who said that he was a young man in the old age of Anaxagoras, a
statement which makes it unlikely that he founded his school at Abdera
before 420 B.C., the date given by Apollodoros for his _floruit_.[923]
Now Theophrastos stated that Diogenes of Apollonia borrowed some of his
views from Anaxagoras and some from Leukippos,[924] which can only mean
that there were traces of the atomic theory in his work. Further,
Apollonios is parodied in the _Clouds_ of Aristophanes, which was
produced in 423 B.C., from which it follows that the work of Leukippos
must have become known considerably before that date. What that work
was, Theophrastos also tells us. It was the _Great Diakosmos_ usually
attributed to Demokritos.[925] This means further that what were known
later as the works of Demokritos were really the writings of the school
of Abdera, and included, as was natural, the works of its founder. They
formed, in fact, a _corpus_ comparable to that which has come down to us
under the name of Hippokrates, and it was no more possible to
distinguish the authors of the different treatises in the one case than
it is in the other. We need not hesitate, for all that, to believe that
Aristotle and Theophrastos were better informed on this point than later
writers, who naturally regarded the whole mass as equally the work of
Demokritos.

Footnote 923:

  Diog. ix. 41 (R. P. 187). As Diels points out, the statement suggests
  that Anaxagoras was dead when Demokritos wrote. It is probable, too,
  that it was this which made Apollodoros fix the _floruit_ of
  Demokritos just forty years after that of Anaxagoras (Jacoby, p. 290).
  We cannot make much of the other statement of Demokritos that he wrote
  the Μικρὸς διάκοσμος 750 years after the fall of Troy; for we cannot
  be sure what era he used (Jacoby, p. 292).

Footnote 924:

  Theophr. _ap._ Simpl. _Phys._ p. 25, 1 (R. P. 206 a).

Footnote 925:

  This was stated by Thrasylos in his list of the tetralogies in which
  he arranged the works of Demokritos, as he did those of Plato. He
  gives Tetr. iii. thus: (1) Μέγας διάκοσμος (ὃν οἱ περὶ Θεόφραστον
  Λευκίππου φασὶν εἶναι); (2) Μικρὸς διάκοσμος; (3) Κοσμογραφίη; (4)
  Περὶ τῶν πλανήτων. The two διάκοσμοι would only be distinguished as
  μέγας and μικρός when they came to be included in the same _corpus_. A
  quotation purporting to be from the Περὶ νοῦ of Leukippos is preserved
  in Stob. i. 160. The phrase ἐν τοῖς Λευκίππου καλουμένοις λόγοις in
  _M.X.G._ 980 a 8 seems to refer to Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ 325 a 24,
  Λεύκιππος δ’ ἔχειν ᾠήθη λόγους κ.τ.λ., and would prove nothing in any
  case. Cf. Chap. II. p. 138, _n._ 305.

Theophrastos found Leukippos described as an Eleate in some of his
authorities, and, if we may trust analogy, that means he had settled at
Elea.[926] It is possible that his emigration to the west was connected
with the revolution at Miletos in 450-49 B.C.[927] In any case,
Theophrastos says distinctly that he had been a member of the school of
Parmenides, and the way in which he speaks suggests that the founder of
that school was still at its head.[928] He may very well have been so,
if we accept Plato’s chronology.[929] Theophrastos also appears to have
said that Leukippos “heard” Zeno, which is very credible. We shall see,
at any rate, that the influence of Zeno on his thinking is
unmistakable.[930]

Footnote 926:

  See above, p. 380, _n._ 921.

Footnote 927:

  The aristocrats had massacred the democrats, and were overthrown in
  their turn by the Athenians. Cf. [Xen.] Ἀθ. πολ. 3, 11. The date is
  fixed by _C.I.A._ i. 22 a.

Footnote 928:

  Theophr. _ap._ Simpl. _Phys._ p. 28, 4 (R. P. 185). Note the
  difference of case in κοινωνήσας Παρμενίδῃ τῆς φιλοσοφίας and
  κοινωνήσας τῆς Ἀναξιμένους φιλοσοφίας which is the phrase used by
  Theophrastos of Anaxagoras (p. 293, _n._ 660). The dative seems to
  imply a personal relationship. It is quite inadmissible to render “was
  familiar with the doctrine of Parmenides,” as is done in Gomperz,
  _Greek Thinkers_, vol. i. p. 345.

Footnote 929:

  See § 84.

Footnote 930:

  Cf. Diog. ix. 30, οὕτος ἤκουσε Ζήνωνος (R. P. 185 b); and Hipp. _Ref._
  i. 12, 1, Λεύκιππος ... Ζήνωνος ἑταῖρος. Diels conjectured that the
  name of Zeno had been dropped in the extract from Theophrastos
  preserved by Simplicius (_Dox._ 483 a 11).

The relations of Leukippos to Empedokles and Anaxagoras are more
difficult to determine. It has become part of the case for the
historical reality of Leukippos that there are traces of atomism in the
systems of these men; but the case is strong enough without that
assumption. Besides, it lands us in serious difficulties, not the least
of which is that it would require us to regard Empedokles and Anaxagoras
as mere eclectics like Diogenes of Apollonia.[931] The strongest
argument for the view that Leukippos influenced Empedokles is that drawn
from the doctrine of “pores”; but we have seen that this originated with
Alkmaion, and it is therefore more probable that Leukippos derived it
from Empedokles.[932] We have seen too that Zeno probably wrote against
Empedokles, and we know that he influenced Leukippos.[933] Nor, is it at
all probable that Anaxagoras knew anything of the theory of Leukippos.
It is true that he denied the existence of the void; but it does not
follow that any one had already maintained that doctrine in the atomist
sense. The early Pythagoreans had spoken of a void too, though they had
confused it with atmospheric air; and the experiments of Anaxagoras with
the _klepsydra_ and the inflated skins would only have had any point if
they were directed against the Pythagorean theory.[934] If he had really
wished to refute Leukippos, he would have had to use arguments of a very
different kind.

Footnote 931:

  This point is important, though the argument is weakened by Brieger’s
  overstatement of it in _Hermes_, xxxvi. p. 183. He says that to assume
  such a reaction as Anaxagoreanism after the atomic system had once
  been discovered would be something unexampled in the history of Greek
  philosophy. Diogenes of Apollonia proves the contrary. The real point
  is that Empedokles and Anaxagoras were men of a different stamp. So
  far as Empedokles is concerned, Gomperz states the case rightly
  (_Greek Thinkers_, vol. i. p. 560).

Footnote 932:

  See above, Chap. V. p. 224, _n._ 492; and Brieger in _Hermes_, xxxvi.
  p. 171.

Footnote 933:

  Diels (formerly at least) maintained both these things. See above, p.
  359, _n._ 859; and p. 382, _n._ 930. If, as seems probable (§ 158),
  Zeno wrote his book some time between 470 and 460 B.C., Leukippos can
  hardly have written his before 450 B.C., and even that is too late for
  him to have influenced Empedokles. It may well have been later still.

Footnote 934:

  See above, Chap. VI. § 131; and Chap. VII. § 145.

[Sidenote: Theophrastos on the atomic theory.]

172. Theophrastos wrote of Leukippos as follows in the First Book of his
_Opinions_:—

  Leukippos of Elea or Miletos (for both accounts are given of him) had
  associated with Parmenides in philosophy. He did not, however, follow
  the same path in his explanation of things as Parmenides and
  Xenophanes did, but, as is believed, the very opposite (R. P. 185).
  They made the All one, immovable, uncreated, and finite, and did not
  even permit us to search for _what is not_; he assumed innumerable and
  ever-moving elements, namely, the atoms. And he made their forms
  infinite in number, since there was no reason why they should be of
  one kind rather than another, and because he saw that there was
  unceasing becoming and change in things. He held, further, that _what
  is_ is no more real than _what is not_, and that both are alike causes
  of the things that come into being; for he laid down that the
  substance of the atoms was compact and full, and he called them _what
  is_, while they moved in the void which he called _what is not_, but
  affirmed to be just as real as _what is_. R. P. 194.

[Sidenote: Leukippos and the Eleatics.]

173. It will be observed that Theophrastos, while noting the affiliation
of Leukippos to the Eleatic school, points out that his theory is,
_prima facie_,[935] just the opposite of that maintained by Parmenides.
Some have been led by this to deny the Eleaticism of Leukippos
altogether; but this denial is really based on the view that the system
of Parmenides was “metaphysical,” coupled with a great reluctance to
admit that so scientific a hypothesis as the atomic theory can have had
a “metaphysical” origin. It is really due to prejudice, and we must not
suppose Theophrastos himself believed the two theories to be so far
apart as they seem.[936] As this is really the most important point in
the history of early Greek philosophy, and as, rightly understood, it
furnishes the key to the whole development, it is worth while to
transcribe a passage of Aristotle[937] which explains the historical
connexion in a way that leaves nothing to be desired.

Footnote 935:

  The words ὡς δοκεῖ do not imply assent to the view introduced by them;
  indeed they are used, far more often than not, in reference to beliefs
  which the writer does not accept. The translation “methinks” in
  Gomperz, _Greek Thinkers_, vol. i. p. 345, is therefore most
  misleading, and there is no justification for Brieger’s statement
  (_Hermes_, xxxvi. p. 165) that Theophrastos dissents from Aristotle’s
  view as given in the passage about to be quoted. We should be saved
  from many errors if we accustomed ourselves to translate δοκεῖ by “is
  thought” or “is believed” instead of by “seems.”

  Leukippos and Demokritos have decided about all things practically by
  the same method and on the same theory, taking as their starting-point
  what naturally comes first. Some of the ancients had held that the
  real must necessarily be one and immovable; for, said they, empty
  space is not real, and motion would be impossible without empty space
  separated from matter; nor, further, could reality be a many, if there
  were nothing to separate things. And it makes no difference if any one
  holds that the All is not continuous, but discrete, with its parts in
  contact (_the Pythagorean view_), instead of holding that reality is
  many, not one, and that there is empty space. For, if it is divisible
  at every point there is no one, and therefore no many, and the Whole
  is empty (_Zeno_); while, if we say it is divisible in one place and
  not in another, this looks like an arbitrary fiction; for up to what
  point and for what reason will part of the Whole be in this state and
  be full, while the rest is discrete? And, on the same grounds, they
  further say that there can be no motion. In consequence of these
  reasonings, then, going beyond perception and overlooking it in the
  belief that we ought to follow the argument, they say that the All is
  one and immovable (_Parmenides_), and some of them that it is infinite
  (_Melissos_), for any limit would be bounded by empty space. This,
  then, is the opinion they expressed about the truth, and these are the
  reasons which led them to do so. Now, so far as arguments go, this
  conclusion does seem to follow; but, if we appeal to facts, to hold
  such a view looks like madness. No one who is mad is so far out of his
  senses that fire and ice appear to him to be one; it is only things
  that are right, and things that appear right from habit, in which
  madness makes some people see no difference.

  Leukippos, however, thought he had a theory which was in harmony with
  sense-perception, and did not do away with coming into being and
  passing away, nor motion, nor the multiplicity of things. He made this
  concession to experience, while he conceded, on the other hand, to
  those who invented the One that motion was impossible without the
  void, that the void was not real, and that nothing of what was real
  was not real. “For,” said he, “that which is strictly speaking real is
  an absolute _plenum_; but the _plenum_ is not one. On the contrary,
  there are an infinite number of them, and they are invisible owing to
  the smallness of their bulk. They move in the void (for there is a
  void); and by their coming together they effect coming into being; by
  their separation, passing away.”

Footnote 936:

  This prejudice is apparent all through Gomperz’s _Greek Thinkers_, and
  seriously impairs the value of that fascinating, though somewhat
  imaginative work. It is amusing to notice that Brieger, from the same
  point of view, regards the custom of making Anaxagoras the last of the
  Presocratics as due to theological prepossessions (_Hermes_, xxxvi. p.
  185). I am sorry that I cannot agree with either side; but the
  bitterness of the disputants bears witness to the fundamental
  importance of the questions raised by the early Greek philosophers.

Footnote 937:

  Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ Α, 8. 324 b 35 (R. P. 193).

It is true that in this passage Zeno and Melissos are not named, but the
reference to them is unmistakable. The argument of Zeno against the
Pythagoreans is clearly given; and Melissos was the only Eleatic who
made reality infinite, a point which is distinctly mentioned. We are
therefore justified by Aristotle’s words in explaining the genesis of
Atomism and its relation to Eleaticism as follows. Zeno had shown that
all pluralist systems yet known, and especially Pythagoreanism, were
unable to stand before the arguments from infinite divisibility which he
adduced. Melissos had used the same argument against Anaxagoras, and had
added, by way of _reductio ad absurdum_, that, if there were many
things, each one of them must be such as the Eleatics held the One to
be. To this Leukippos answers, “Why not?” He admitted the force of
Zeno’s arguments by setting a limit to divisibility, and to each of the
atoms which he thus arrived at he ascribed all the predicates of the
Eleatic One; for Parmenides had shown that if _it is_, it must have
these predicates somehow. The same view is implied in a passage of
Aristotle’s _Physics_.[938] “Some,” we are there told, “surrendered to
both arguments, to the first, the argument that all things are one, if
the word _is_ is used in one sense only (_Parmenides_), by affirming the
reality of what is not; to the second, that based on dichotomy (_Zeno_),
by introducing indivisible magnitudes.” Finally, it is only by regarding
the matter in this way that we can attach any meaning to another
statement of Aristotle’s to the effect that Leukippos and Demokritos, as
well as the Pythagoreans, virtually make all things out of numbers.[939]
Leukippos, in fact, gave the Pythagorean monads the character of the
Parmenidean One.

Footnote 938:

  Arist. _Phys._ Α, 3. 187 a 1 (R. P. 134 b).

Footnote 939:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Γ, 4. 303 a 8, τρόπον γάρ τινα καὶ οὕτοι (Λεύκιππος
  καὶ Δημόκριτος) πάντα τὰ ὄντα ποιοῦσιν ἀριθμοὺς καὶ ἐξ ἀριθμῶν. This
  also serves to explain what Herakleides may have meant by attributing
  the theory of corporeal ὄγκοι to the Pythagorean Ekphantos of Syracuse
  (above, p. 338, _n._ 794).

[Sidenote: Atoms.]

174. We must observe that the atom is not mathematically indivisible,
for it has magnitude; it is, however, physically indivisible, because,
like the One of Parmenides, it contains in it no empty space.[940] Each
atom has extension, and all the atoms are exactly alike in
substance.[941] Therefore all differences in things must be accounted
for either by the shape of the atoms or by their arrangement. It seems
probable that the three ways in which differences arise, namely, shape,
position, and arrangement, were already distinguished by Leukippos; for
Aristotle mentions his name in connexion with them.[942] This explains,
too, why the atoms are called “forms” or “figures,” a way of speaking
which seems to be of Pythagorean origin.[943] That they are also called
φύσις[944] is quite intelligible if we remember what was said of that
word in the Introduction (§ VII.). The differences in shape, order, and
position just referred to account for the “opposites,” the “elements”
being regarded rather as aggregates of these (πανσπερμίαι), as by
Anaxagoras.[945]

Footnote 940:

  The Epicureans misunderstood this point, or misrepresented it in order
  to magnify their own originality (see Zeller, p. 857, n. 3; Eng.
  trans. ii. p. 225, n. 2).

Footnote 941:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Α, 7. 275 b 32, τὴν δὲ φύσιν εἶναί φασιν αὐτῶν
  μίαν; _Phys._ Γ, 4. 203 a 34, αὐτῷ (Δημοκρίτῳ) τὸ κοινὸν σῶμα πάντων
  ἐστὶν ἀρχή.

Footnote 942:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 4. 985 b 13 (R. P. 192); cf. _de Gen. Corr._ 315 b 6.
  As Diels suggests, the illustration from the letters of the alphabet
  is probably due to Demokritos. It shows, in any case, how the word
  στοιχεῖον came to be used later for “element.” We must read, with
  Wilamowitz, τὸ δὲ Ζ τοῦ Η θέσει for τὸ δὲ Ζ τοῦ Ν θέσει, the older
  form of the letter Ζ being just an Η laid upon its side (Diels,
  _Elementum_, p. 13, n. 1).

Footnote 943:

  Demokritos wrote a work, Περὶ ἰδεῶν (Sext. _Math._ vii. 137; R. P.
  204), which Diels identifies with the Περὶ τῶν διαφερόντων ῥυσμῶν of
  Thrasylos, _Tetr._ v. 3. Theophrastos refers to Demokritos, ἐν τοῖς
  περὶ τῶν εἰδῶν (_de Sensibus_, § 51). Plut. _adv. Col._ 1111 a, εἶναι
  δὲ πάντα τὰς ἀτόμους, ἰδέας ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ καλουμένας (so the MSS.: ἰδίως,
  Wyttenbach; <ἢ> ἰδέας, Diels). Arist. Phys. Γ, 4. 203 a 21,
  (Δημόκριτος) ἐκ τῆς πανσπερμίας τῶν σχημάτων (ἄπειρα ποιεῖ τὰ
  στοιχεῖα). Cf. _de Gen. Corr._ Α, 2. 315 b 7 (R. P. 196).

Footnote 944:

  Arist. _Phys._ Θ, 9. 265 b 25; Simpl. _Phys._ p. 1318, 33, ταῦτα γὰρ
  (τὰ ἄτομα σώματα) ἐκεῖνοι φύσιν ἐκάλουν.

Footnote 945:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 36, 1 (Diels, _Vors._ p. 346), and R. P. 196 a.

[Sidenote: The void.]

175. Leukippos affirmed the existence both of the Full and the Empty,
terms which he may have borrowed from Melissos.[946] As we have seen, he
had to assume the existence of empty space, which the Eleatics had
denied, in order to make his explanation of the nature of body possible.
Here again he is developing a Pythagorean view. The Pythagoreans had
spoken of the void, which kept the units apart; but they had not
distinguished it from atmospheric air (§ 53), which Empedokles had shown
to be a corporeal substance (§ 107). Parmenides, indeed, had formed a
clearer conception of space, but only to deny its reality. Leukippos
started from this. He admitted, indeed, that space was not real, that is
to say, corporeal; but he maintained that it existed all the same. He
hardly, it is true, had words to express his discovery in; for the verb
“to be” had hitherto been used by philosophers only of body. But he did
his best to make his meaning clear by saying that “what is not” (in the
old corporealist sense) “is” (in another sense) just as much as “what
is.” The void is as real as body.

Footnote 946:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 4. 985 b 4 (R. P. 192). Cf. Melissos, fr. 7 _sub
  fin._

It is a curious fact that the Atomists, who are commonly regarded as the
great materialists of antiquity, were actually the first to say
distinctly that a thing might be real without being a body.

[Sidenote: Cosmology.]

176. It might seem a hopeless task to disentangle the cosmology of
Leukippos from that of Demokritos, with which it is generally
identified; but that very fact affords an invaluable clue. So far as we
know, no one after Theophrastos was able to distinguish the doctrines of
the two men, and it follows from this that all definite statements about
Leukippos in later writers must, in the long run, go back to him. If we
follow this up, we shall be able to give a fairly clear account of the
system, and we shall even come across some views which are peculiar to
Leukippos and were not adopted by Demokritos.[947]

Footnote 947:

  Cf. Zeller, “Zu Leukippus” (_Arch._ xv. p. 138).

We shall start from the fuller of the two doxographies in Diogenes,
which comes from an epitome of Theophrastos.[948] It is as follows:—

  He says that the All is infinite, and that it is part full, and part
  empty. These (the full and the empty), he says, are the elements. From
  them arise innumerable worlds and are resolved into them. The worlds
  come into being thus. There were borne along by “abscision from the
  infinite” many bodies of all sorts of figures “into a mighty void,”
  and they being gathered together produce a single vortex. In it, as
  they came into collision with one another and were whirled round in
  all manner of ways, those which were alike were separated apart and
  came to their likes. But, as they were no longer able to revolve in
  equilibrium owing to their multitude, those of them that were fine
  went out to the external void, as if passed through a sieve; the rest
  stayed together, and becoming entangled with one another, ran down
  together, and made a first spherical structure. This was in substance
  like a membrane or skin containing in itself all kinds of bodies. And,
  as these bodies were borne round in a vortex, in virtue of the
  resistance of the middle, the surrounding membrane became thin, as the
  contiguous bodies kept flowing together from contact with the vortex.
  And in this way the earth came into being, those things which had been
  borne towards the middle abiding there. Moreover, the containing
  membrane was increased by the further separating out of bodies from
  outside; and, being itself carried round in a vortex, it further got
  possession of all with which it had come in contact. Some of these
  becoming entangled, produce a structure, which was at first moist and
  muddy; but, when they had been dried and were revolving along with the
  vortex of the whole, they were then ignited and produced the substance
  of the heavenly bodies. The circle of the sun is the outermost, that
  of the moon is nearest to the earth, and those of the others are
  between these. And all the heavenly bodies are ignited because of the
  swiftness of their motion; while the sun is also ignited by the stars.
  But the moon only receives a small portion of fire. The sun and the
  moon are eclipsed.... (And the obliquity of the zodiac is produced) by
  the earth being inclined towards the south; and the northern parts of
  it have constant snow and are cold and frozen. And the sun is eclipsed
  rarely, and the moon continually, because their circles are unequal.
  And just as there are comings into being of the world, so there are
  growths and decays and passings away in virtue of a certain necessity,
  of the nature of which he gives no clear account.

Footnote 948:

  Diog. ix. 31 sqq. (R. P. 197, 197 c). This passage deals expressly
  with Leukippos, not with Demokritos or even “Leukippos and
  Demokritos.” For the distinction between the “summary” and “detailed”
  doxographies in Diogenes, see Appendix, § 15.

As it comes substantially from Theophrastos, this passage is to be
regarded as good evidence for the cosmology of Leukippos, and it is
confirmed in an interesting way by certain Epicurean extracts from the
_Great Diakosmos_.[949] These, however, as is natural, give a specially
Epicurean turn to some of the doctrines, and must therefore be used with
caution.

Footnote 949:

  These are to be found in Aet. i. 4 (_Dox._ p. 289; _Vors._ p. 347;
  Usener, _Epicurea_, fr. 308). Epicurus himself in the second epistle
  (Diog. x. 88; Usener, p. 37, 7) quotes the phrase ἀποτομὴν ἔχουσα ἀπὸ
  τοῦ ἀπείρου.

[Sidenote: Relation to Ionic cosmology.]

177. The general impression which we get from the cosmology of Leukippos
is that he either ignored or had never heard of the great advance in the
general view of the world which was due to the later Pythagoreans. He is
as reactionary in his detailed cosmology as he was daring in his general
physical theory. We seem to be reading once more of the speculations of
Anaximenes or even of Anaximander, though there are traces of Empedokles
and Anaxagoras too. The explanation is not hard to see. Leukippos would
not learn a cosmology from his Eleatic teachers; and, even when he found
it possible to construct one without giving up the Parmenidean view of
reality, he was necessarily thrown back upon the older systems of Ionia.
The result was unfortunate. The astronomy of Demokritos, so far as we
know it, was still of this childish character. There is no reason to
doubt the statement of Seneca that he did not venture to say how many
planets there were.[950]

Footnote 950:

  Seneca, _Q. Nat._ vii. 3.

This, I take it, is what gives plausibility to Gomperz’s statement that
Atomism was “the ripe fruit on the tree of the old Ionic doctrine of
matter which had been tended by the Ionian physiologists.”[951] The
detailed cosmology was certainly such a fruit, and it was possibly
over-ripe; but the atomic theory proper, in which the real greatness of
Leukippos comes out, was wholly Eleatic in its origin. Nevertheless, it
will repay us to examine the cosmology too; for such an examination will
serve better than anything else to bring out the true nature of the
historical development of which it was the outcome.

Footnote 951:

  Gomperz, _Greek Thinkers_, vol. i. p. 323.

[Sidenote: The eternal motion.]

178. Leukippos represented the atoms as having been always in motion.
Aristotle puts this in his own way. The atomists, he says, “indolently”
left it unexplained what was the source of motion, and they did not say
what sort of motion it was. In other words, they did not decide whether
it was a “natural motion” or one impressed on them “contrary to their
nature.”[952] He even went so far as to say that they made it
“spontaneous,” a remark which has given rise to the erroneous view that
they held it was due to chance.[953] Aristotle does not say that,
however; but only that the atomists did not explain the motion of the
atoms in any of the ways in which he himself explained the motion of the
elements. They neither ascribed to them a natural motion like the
circular motion of the heavens and the rectilinear motion of the four
elements in the sublunary region, nor did they give them a forced motion
contrary to their own nature, like the upward motion which may be given
to the heavy elements and the downward which may be given to the light.
The only fragment of Leukippos which has survived is an express denial
of chance. “Naught happens for nothing,” he said “but everything from a
ground and of necessity.”[954]

Footnote 952:

  Arist. _Phys._ Θ, 1. 252 a 32 (R. P. 195 a); _de Caelo_, Γ, 2. 300 b 8
  (R. P. 195); _Met._ Α, 4. 985 b 19 (R. P. _ib._).

Footnote 953:

  Arist. _Phys._ Β, 4. 196 a 24 (R. P. 195 d). Cicero, _de nat. D._ i.
  66 (R. P. _ib._). The latter passage is the source of the phrase
  “fortuitous concourse” (_concurrere_ = συντρέχειν).

Footnote 954:

  Aet. i. 25, 4 (_Dox._ p. 321), Λεύκιππος πάντα κατ’ ἀνάγκην, τὴν δ’
  αὐτὴν ὑπάρχειν εἱμαρμένην. λέγει γὰρ ἐν τῷ Περὶ νοῦ· Οὐδὲν χρῆμα μάτην
  γίγνεται, ἀλλὰ πάντα ἐκ λόγου τε καὶ ὑπ’ ἀνάγκης.

If we put the matter historically, all this means that Leukippos did
not, like Empedokles and Anaxagoras, find it necessary to assume a force
to originate motion. He had no need of Love and Strife or Mind, and the
reason is clear. Though Empedokles and Anaxagoras had tried to explain
multiplicity and motion, they had not broken so radically as Leukippos
did with the Parmenidean One. Both of them started with a condition of
matter in which the “roots” or “seeds” were mixed so as to be “all
together,” and they therefore required something to break up this unity.
Leukippos, who started with an infinite number of Parmenidean “Ones,” so
to speak, required no external agency to separate them. What he had to
do was just the opposite. He had to give an explanation of their coming
together, and there was nothing so far to prevent his return to the old
and natural idea that motion does not require any explanation at
all.[955]

Footnote 955:

  Introd. § VIII.

This, then, is what seems to follow from the criticisms of Aristotle and
from the nature of the case; but it will be observed that it is not
consistent with Zeller’s opinion that the original motion of the atoms
is a fall through infinite space, as in the system of Epicurus. Zeller’s
view depends, of course, on the further belief that the atoms have
weight, and that weight is the tendency of bodies to fall, so we must go
on to consider whether and in what sense weight is a property of the
atoms.

[Sidenote: The weight of the atoms.]

179. As is well known, Epicurus held that the atoms were naturally
heavy, and therefore fell continually in the infinite void. The school
tradition is, however, that the “natural weight” of the atoms was an
addition made by Epicurus himself to the original atomic system.
Demokritos, we are told, assigned two properties to atoms, magnitude and
form, to which Epicurus added a third, weight.[956] On the other hand,
Aristotle distinctly says in one place that Demokritos held the atoms
were heavier “in proportion to their excess,” and this seems to be
explained by the statement of Theophrastos that, according to him,
weight depended on magnitude.[957] It will be observed that, even so, it
is not represented as a primary property of the atoms in the same sense
as magnitude.

Footnote 956:

  Aet. i. 3, 18 (of Epicurus), συμβεβηκέναι δὲ τοῖς σώμασι τρία ταῦτα,
  σχῆμα, μέγεθος, βάρος. Δημόκριτος μὲν γὰρ ἔλεγε δύο, μέγεθός τε καὶ
  σχῆμα, ὁ δὲ Ἐπίκουρος τούτοις καὶ τρίτον βάρος προσέθηκεν· ἀνάγκη γάρ,
  φησί, κινεῖσθαι τὰ σώματα τῇ τοῦ βάρους πληγῇ· ἐπεὶ (“or else”) οὐ
  κινηθήσεται; _ib._ 12, 6, Δημόκριτος τὰ πρῶτά φησι σώματα, ταῦτα δ’ ἦν
  τὰ ναστά, βάρος μὲν οὐκ ἔχειν, κινεῖσθαι δὲ κατ’ ἀλληλοτυπίαν ἐν τῷ
  ἀπείρῳ. Cic. _de fato_, 20, “vim motus habebant (atomi) a Democrito
  impulsionis quam plagam ille appellat, a te, Epicure, gravitatis et
  ponderis.” These passages represent the Epicurean school tradition,
  which would hardly venture to misrepresent Demokritos on so important
  a point. His works were still accessible. It is confirmed by the
  Academic tradition in _de Fin._ i. 17 that Demokritos taught the atoms
  moved “in infinito inani, in quo nihil nec summum nec infimum nec
  medium nec extremum sit.” This doctrine, we are told, was “depraved”
  by Epicurus.

Footnote 957:

  Arist. _de Gen. Corr._ 326 a 9, καίτοι βαρύτερόν γε κατὰ τὴν ὑπεροχήν
  φησιν εἶναι Δημόκριτος ἕκαστον τῶν ἀδιαιρέτων. I cannot believe this
  means anything else than what Theophrastos says in his fragment on
  sensation, § 61 (R. P. 199), βαρὺ μὲν οὖν καὶ κοῦφον τῷ μεγέθει
  διαιρεῖ Δημόκριτος.

It is impossible to solve this apparent contradiction without referring
briefly to the history of Greek ideas about weight. It is clear that
lightness and weight would be among the very first properties of body to
be distinctly recognised as such. The necessity of lifting burdens must
very soon have led men to distinguish them, though no doubt in some
primitive and more or less animistic form. Both weight and lightness
would be thought of as _things_ that were _in_ bodies. Now it is a
remarkable feature of early Greek philosophy that from the first it was
able to shake itself free from this idea. Weight is never spoken of as a
“thing” as, for instance, warmth and cold are; and, so far as we can
see, not one of the thinkers we have studied hitherto thought it
necessary to give any explanation of it at all, or even to say anything
about it.[958] The motions and resistances which popular theory ascribes
to weight are all explained in some other way. Aristotle distinctly
declares that none of his predecessors had said anything of absolute
weight and lightness. They had only treated of the relatively light and
heavy.[959]

Footnote 958:

  In Aet. i. 12, where the _placita_ regarding the heavy and light are
  given, no philosopher earlier than Plato is referred to. Parmenides
  (fr. 8, 59) speaks of the dark element as ἐμβριθές. I do not think
  that there is any other place where weight is even mentioned in the
  fragments of the early philosophers.

Footnote 959:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, 308 a 9, περὶ μὲν οὖν τῶν ἁπλῶς λεγομένων (βαρέων
  καὶ κούφων) οὐδὲν εἴρηται παρὰ τῶν πρότερον.

This way of regarding the popular notions of weight and lightness is
clearly formulated for the first time in Plato’s _Timaeus_.[960] There
is no such thing in the world, we are told there, as “up” or “down.” The
middle of the world is not “down” but “just in the middle,” and there is
no reason why any point in the circumference should be said to be
“above” or “below” another. It is really the tendency of bodies towards
their kin that makes us call a falling body heavy and the place to which
it falls “below.” Here Plato is really giving the view which was taken
more or less consciously by his predecessors, and it is not till the
time of Aristotle that it is questioned.[961] For reasons which do not
concern us here, he definitely identified the circumference of the
heavens with “up” and the middle of the world with “down,” and equipped
the four elements with natural weight and lightness that they might
perform their rectilinear motions between them. As, however, Aristotle
believed there was only one world, and as he did not ascribe weight to
the heavens proper, the effect of this reactionary theory upon his
cosmical system was not great; it was only when Epicurus tried to
combine it with the infinite void that its true character emerged. It
seems to me that the nightmare of Epicurean atomism can only be
explained on the assumption that an Aristotelian doctrine was violently
adapted to a theory which really excluded it.[962] It is totally unlike
anything we meet with in earlier days.

Footnote 960:

  Plato, _Tim._ 61 c 3 sqq.

Footnote 961:

  Zeller says (p. 876) that in antiquity no one ever understood by
  weight anything else than the property of bodies in virtue of which
  they move downwards; except that in such systems as represent all
  forms of matter as contained in a sphere, “above” is identified with
  the circumference and “below” with the centre. As to that, I can only
  say that no such theory of weight is to be found in the fragments of
  the early philosophers or is anywhere ascribed to them, while Plato
  expressly denies it.

This brief historical survey suggests at once that it is only in the
vortex that the atoms acquire weight and lightness,[963] which are,
after all, only popular names for facts which can be further analysed.
We are told that Leukippos held that one effect of the vortex was that
like atoms were brought together with their likes.[964] In this way of
speaking we seem to see the influence of Empedokles, though the
“likeness” is of another kind. It is the finer atoms that are forced to
the circumference, while the larger tend to the centre. We may express
that by saying that the larger are heavy and the smaller light, and this
will amply account for everything Aristotle and Theophrastos say; for
there is no passage where the atoms outside the vortex are distinctly
said to be heavy or light.[965]

Footnote 962:

  The Aristotelian criticisms which may have affected Epicurus are such
  as we find in _de Caelo_, 275 b 29 sqq. Aristotle there argues that,
  as Leukippos and Demokritos made the φύσις of the atoms one, they were
  bound to give them a single motion. That is just what Epicurus did,
  but Aristotle’s argument implies that Leukippos and Demokritos did
  not. Though he gave the atoms weight, Epicurus could not accept
  Aristotle’s view that some bodies are naturally light. The appearance
  of lightness is due to ἔκθλιψις, the squeezing out of the smaller
  atoms by the larger.

Footnote 963:

  In dealing with Empedokles, Aristotle expressly makes this
  distinction. Cf. _de Caelo_, Β, 13, especially 295 a 32 sqq., where he
  points out that Empedokles does not account for the weight of bodies
  on the earth (οὐ γὰρ ἥ γε δίνη πλησιάζει πρὸς ἡμᾶς), nor for the
  weight of bodies before the vortex arose (πρὶν γενέσθαι τὴν δίνην).

Footnote 964:

  Diog., _loc. cit._ (p. 390).

Footnote 965:

  This seems to be in the main the view of Dyroff, _Demokritstudien_
  (1899), pp. 31 sqq., though I should not say that lightness and weight
  only arose in connexion with the atoms of the _earth_ (p. 35). If we
  substitute “world” for “earth,” we shall be nearer the truth.

There is a striking confirmation of the view just given in the atomist
cosmology quoted above.[966] We are told there that the separation of
the larger and smaller atoms was due to the fact that they were “no
longer able to revolve in equilibrium owing to their number,” which
implies that they had previously been in a state of “equilibrium” or
“equipoise.” Now the word ἰσορροπία has no necessary implication of
weight in Greek. A ῥοπή is a mere leaning or inclination in a certain
direction, which may be caused by weight or anything else. The state of
ἰσορροπία is therefore that in which the tendency in one direction is
exactly equal to the tendency in any other, and such a state is more
naturally described as the absence of weight than as the presence of
opposite weights neutralising one another. That way of looking at it may
be useful from the point of view of later science, but it is not safe to
attribute it to the thinkers of the fifth century B.C.

Footnote 966:

  See above, p. 390.

If we no longer regard the “eternal motion” of the premundane and
extramundane atoms as due to their weight, there is no reason for
describing it as a fall. None of our authorities do as a matter of fact
so describe it, nor do they tell us in any way what it was. It is safest
to say that it is simply a confused motion this way and that.[967] It is
possible that the comparison of the motion of the atoms of the soul to
that of the motes in a sunbeam coming through a window, which Aristotle
attributes to Demokritos,[968] is really intended as an illustration of
the original motion of the atoms still surviving in the soul. The fact
that it is also a Pythagorean comparison[969] in no way tells against
this; for we have seen that there is a real connexion between the
Pythagorean monads and the atoms. It is also significant that the point
of the comparison appears to have been the fact that the motes in the
sunbeam move even when there is no wind, so that it would be a very apt
illustration indeed of the motion inherent in the atoms apart from the
secondary motions produced by impact and collision. That, however, is
problematical; it only serves to suggest the sort of motion which it is
natural to suppose that Leukippos gave his atoms.

Footnote 967:

  This view was independently advocated by Brieger (_Die Urbewegung der
  Atome und die Weltentstehung bei Leucipp und Demokrit_, 1884) and
  Liepmann (_Die Mechanik der Leucipp-Demokritschen Atome_, 1885), both
  of whom unnecessarily weakened their position by admitting that weight
  is an original property of the atoms. On the other hand, Brieger
  denies that the weight of the atoms is the cause of their original
  motion, while Liepmann says that before and outside the vortex there
  is only a latent weight, a _Pseudoschwere_, which only comes into
  operation in the world. It is surely simpler to say that this weight,
  since it produces no effect, does not yet exist. Zeller rightly argues
  against Brieger and Liepmann that, if the atoms have weight, they must
  fall; but, so far as I can see, nothing he says tells against their
  theory as I have restated it. Gomperz adopts the Brieger-Liepmann
  explanation. See also Lortzing, _Jahresber._, 1903, pp. 136 sqq.

Footnote 968:

  Arist. _de An._ Α, 2. 403 b 28 sqq. (R. P. 200).

Footnote 969:

  _Ibid._ Α, 2. 404 a 17 (R. P. 86 a).

[Sidenote: The vortex.]

180. But what are we to say of the vortex itself which produces these
effects? Gomperz observes that they seem to be “the precise contrary of
what they should have been by the laws of physics”; for, “as every
centrifugal machine would show, it is the heaviest substances which are
hurled to the greatest distance.”[970] Are we to suppose that Leukippos
was ignorant of this fact, which was known to Anaxagoras, though Gomperz
is wrong in supposing there is any reason to believe that Anaximander
took account of it?[971] Now we know from Aristotle that all those who
accounted for the earth being in the centre of the world by means of a
vortex appealed to the analogy of eddies in wind or water,[972] and
Gomperz supposes that the whole theory was an erroneous generalisation
of this observation. If we look at the matter more closely, we can see,
I think, that there is no error at all.

Footnote 970:

  Gomperz, _Greek Thinkers_, i. p. 339.

Footnote 971:

  For Empedokles, see Chap. V. p. 274; Anaxagoras, see Chap. VI. p. 312;
  and for Anaximander, Chap. I. p. 69, _n._ 132.

Footnote 972:

  Arist. _de Caelo_, Β, 13. 295 a 10, ταύτην γὰρ τὴν αἰτίαν (sc. τὴν
  δίνησιν) πάντες λέγουσιν ἐκ τῶν ἐν τοῖς ὑγοῖς καὶ περὶ τὸν ἀέρα
  συμβαινόντων· ἐν τούτοις γὰρ ἀεὶ φέρεται τὰ μείζω καὶ τὰ βαρύτερα πρὸς
  τὸ μέσον τῆς δίνης.

We must remember that all the parts of the vortex are in contact, and
that it is just this contact (ἐπίψαυσις) by which the motion of the
outermost parts is communicated to those within them. The larger bodies
are more able to resist this communicated motion than the smaller, and
in this way they make their way to the centre where the motion is least,
and force the smaller bodies out. This resistance is surely just the
ἀντέρεισις τοῦ μέσου which is mentioned in the doxography of
Leukippos,[973] and it is quite in accordance with this that, on the
atomist theory, the nearer a heavenly body is to the centre, the slower
is its revolution.[974] There is no question of “centrifugal force” at
all, and the analogy of eddies in air and water is quite satisfactory.

Footnote 973:

  Diog. ix. 32. Cf. especially the phrases ὧν κατὰ τὴν τοῦ μέσου
  ἀντέρεισιν περιδινουμένων, συμμενόντων ἀεὶ τῶν συνεχῶν κατ’ ἐπίψαυσιν
  τῆς δίνης, and συμμενόντων τῶν ἐνεχθέντων ἐπὶ τὸ μέσον.

Footnote 974:

  Cf. Lucr. v. 621 sqq.

[Sidenote: The earth and the heavenly bodies.]

181. When we come to details, the reactionary character of the atomist
cosmology is very manifest. The earth was shaped like a tambourine, and
floated on the air.[975] It was inclined towards the south because the
heat of that region made the air thinner, while the ice and cold of the
north made it denser and more able to support the earth.[976] This
accounts for the obliquity of the zodiac. Like Anaximander (§ 19),
Leukippos held that the sun was further away than the stars, though he
also held that these were further away than the moon.[977] This
certainly suggests that he made no clear distinction between the planets
and the fixed stars. He does, however, appear to have known the theory
of eclipses as given by Anaxagoras.[978] Such other pieces of
information as have come down to us are mainly of interest as showing
that, in some important respects, the doctrine of Leukippos was not the
same as that taught afterwards by Demokritos.[979]

Footnote 975:

  Aet. iii. 3, 10, quoted above, p. 83, _n._ 168.

Footnote 976:

  Aet. iii. 12, 1, Λεύκιππος παρεκπεσεῖν τὴν γῆν εἰς τὰ μεσημβρινὰ μέρη
  διὰ τὴν ἐν τοῖς μεσημβρινοῖς ἀραιότητα, ἅτε δὴ πεπηγότων τῶν βορείων
  διὰ τὸ κατεψῦχθαι τοῖς κρυμοῖς, τῶν δὲ ἀντιθέτων πεπυρωμένων.

Footnote 977:

  Diog. ix. 33, εἶναι δὲ τὸν τοῦ ἡλίου κύκλον ἐξώτατον, τὸν δὲ τῆς
  σελήνης προσγειότατον, <τοὺς δὲ> τῶν ἄλλων μεταξὺ τούτων.

Footnote 978:

  From Diog., _loc. cit._ (_supra_, p. 391), it appears that he dealt
  with the question of the greater frequency of lunar as compared with
  solar eclipses. It seems to have been this which led him to make the
  circle of the moon smaller than that of the stars.

Footnote 979:

  Diels pointed out that Leukippos’s explanation of thunder (πυρὸς
  ἐναποληφθέντος νέφεσι παχυτάτοις ἔκπτωσιν ἰσχυρὰν βροντὴν ἀποτελεῖν
  ἀποφαίνεται, Aet. iii. 3, 10) is quite different from that of
  Demokritos (Βροντὴν ... ἐκ συγκρίματος ἀνωμάλου τὸ περιειληφὸς αὐτὸ
  νέφος πρὸς τὴν κάτω φορὰν ἐκβιαζομένου, _ib._ 11). The explanation
  given by Leukippos is derived from that of Anaximander, while
  Demokritos is influenced by Anaxagoras. See Diels, 35 _Philol.-Vers._
  97, 7.

[Sidenote: Perception.]

182. Aetios expressly attributes to Leukippos the doctrine that the
objects of sense-perception exist “by law” and not by nature.[980] This
must come from Theophrastos; for, as we have seen, all later writers
quote Demokritos only. A further proof of the correctness of the
statement is that we also find it attributed to Diogenes of Apollonia,
who, as Theophrastos tells us, derived some of his views from Leukippos.
There is nothing surprising in this. Parmenides had already declared the
senses to be deceitful, and said that colour and the like were only
“names,”[981] and Empedokles had also spoken of coming into being and
passing away as only “names.”[982] It is not likely that Leukippos went
much further than this. It would probably be wrong to credit him with
Demokritos’s clear distinction between genuine and “bastard” knowledge,
or that between what are now called the primary and secondary qualities
of matter.[983] These distinctions imply a conscious epistemological
theory, and all we are entitled to say is that the germs of this were
already to be found in the writings of Leukippos and his predecessors.
Of course, these do not make Leukippos a sceptic any more than
Empedokles or Anaxagoras, whose remark on this subject (fr. 21_a_)
Demokritos is said to have quoted with approval.[984]

Footnote 980:

  Aet. iv. 9, 8, οἱ μὲν ἄλλοι φύσει τὰ αἰσθητα, Λεύκιππος δὲ Δημόκριτος
  καὶ Ἀπολλώνιος νόμῳ. See Zeller, _Arch._ v. p. 444.

Footnote 981:

  Chap. IV. p. 200, _n._ 443. The remarkable parallel quoted by Gomperz
  (p. 321) from Galilei, to the effect that tastes, smells, and colours
  _non sieno altro che puri nomi_ should, therefore, have been cited to
  illustrate Parmenides rather than Demokritos.

Footnote 982:

  See p. 240, fr. 8.

Footnote 983:

  For these see Sext. _Math._ vii. 135 (R. P. 204).

Footnote 984:

  Sext. vii. 140, “ὄψις γὰρ ἀδήλων τὰ φαινόμενα,” ὥς φησιν Ἀναξαγόρας,
  ὃν ἐπὶ τούτῳ Δημόκριτος ἐπαινεῖ.

There appear to be sufficient grounds for ascribing the theory of
perception by means of _simulacra_ or εἴδωλα, which played such a part
in the systems of Demokritos and Epicurus, to Leukippos.[985] It is a
very natural development of the Empedoklean theory of “effluences” (§
118). It hardly seems likely, however, that he went into great detail on
the subject, and it is safer to credit Demokritos with the elaboration
of the theory.

[Sidenote: Importance of Leukippos.]

183. We have seen incidentally that there is a wide divergence of
opinion among recent writers as to the place of Atomism in Greek
thought. The question at issue is really whether Leukippos reached his
theory on what are called “metaphysical grounds,” that is, from a
consideration of the Eleatic theory of reality, or whether, on the
contrary, it was a pure development of Ionian science. The foregoing
exposition will suggest the true answer. So far as his general theory of
the physical constitution of the world is concerned, it has been shown,
I think, that it was derived entirely from Eleatic and Pythagorean
sources, while the detailed cosmology was in the main a more or less
successful attempt to make the older Ionian beliefs fit into this new
physical theory. In any case, his greatness consisted in his having been
the first to see how body must be regarded if we take it to be ultimate
reality. The old Milesian theory had found its most adequate expression
in the system of Anaximenes (§ 31), but of course rarefaction and
condensation cannot be clearly represented except on the hypothesis of
molecules or atoms coming closer together or going further apart in
space. Parmenides had seen that very clearly (fr.2), and it was the
Eleatic criticism which forced Leukippos to formulate his system as he
did. Even Anaxagoras took account of Zeno’s arguments about divisibility
(§ 128), but his system of qualitatively different “seeds” was lacking
in that simplicity which has always been the chief attraction of
atomism.

Footnote 985:

  See Zeller, “Zu Leukippus” (_Arch._ xv. p. 138). The doctrine is
  attributed to him in Aet. iv. 13, 1 (_Dox._ p. 403); and Alexander,
  _de Sensu_, pp. 24, 14 and 56, 10, also mentions his name in connexion
  with it. This must come from Theophrastos.




                               CHAPTER X
                        ECLECTICISM AND REACTION


[Sidenote: The “bankruptcy of science.”]

184. With Leukippos our story should properly come to an end; for he had
really answered the question first asked by Thales. We have seen,
however, that, though his theory of matter was of a most original and
daring kind, he was not equally successful in his attempt to construct a
cosmology, and this seems to have stood in the way of the recognition of
the atomic theory for what it really was. We have noted the growing
influence of medicine, and the consequent substitution of an interest in
detailed investigation for the larger cosmological views of an earlier
time, and there are several treatises in the Hippokratean _corpus_ which
give us a clear idea of the interest which now prevailed.[986] Leukippos
had shown that “the doctrine of Melissos,”[987] which seemed to make all
science impossible, was not the only conclusion that could be drawn from
the Eleatic premisses, and he had gone on to give a cosmology which was
substantially of the old Ionic type. The result at first was simply that
all the old schools revived and had a short period of renewed activity,
while at the same time some new schools arose which sought to
accommodate the older views to those of Leukippos, or to make them more
available for scientific purposes by combining them in an eclectic
fashion. None of these attempts had any lasting importance or influence,
and what we have to consider in this chapter is really one of the
periodical “bankruptcies of science” which mark the close of one chapter
in its history and announce the beginning of a new one.

Footnote 986:

  Cf. what is said in Chap. IV. p. 167, _n._ 383, of the Περὶ διαίτης.
  The Περὶ ἀνθρώπου φύσιος and the Περὶ ἀρχαίης ἰατρικῆς are invaluable
  documents for the attitude of scientific men to cosmological theories
  at this date.

Footnote 987:

  Cf. Chap. VIII. p. 379, _n._ 919.


                           I. HIPPON OF SAMOS

185. Hippon of Samos or Kroton belonged to the Italian school of
medicine.[988] We know very little indeed of him except that he was a
contemporary of Perikles. From a scholiast on Aristophanes[989] we learn
that Kratinos satirised him in his _Panoptai_; and Aristotle mentions
him in the enumeration of early philosophers given in the First Book of
the _Metaphysics_,[990] though only to say that the inferiority of his
intellect deprives him of all claim to be reckoned among them.

Footnote 988:

  Aristoxenos said he was a Samian (R. P. 219 a). In Menon’s _Iatrika_
  he is called a Krotoniate, while others assign him to Rhegion or
  Metapontion. This probably means that he was affiliated to the
  Pythagorean medical school. The evidence of Aristoxenos is, in that
  case, all the more valuable. Hippon is mentioned along with Melissos
  in Iamblichos’s Catalogue of Pythagoreans (_V. Pyth._ 267).

Footnote 989:

  Schol. on _Clouds_, 94 sqq.

Footnote 990:

  Arist. _Met._ Α, 3. 984 a 3 (R. P. 219 a).

[Sidenote: Moisture.]

With regard to his views, the most precise statement is that of
Alexander, who doubtless follows Theophrastos. It is to the effect that
he held the primary substance to be Moisture, without deciding whether
it was Water or Air.[991] We have the authority of Aristotle[992] and
Theophrastos, represented by Hippolytos,[993] for saying that this
theory was supported by physiological arguments of the kind common at
the time. His other views belong to the history of Medicine.

Footnote 991:

  Alexander in _Met._ p. 26, 21 (R. P. 219).

Footnote 992:

  Arist. _de An._ Α, 2. 405 b 2 (R. P. 220).

Footnote 993:

  Hipp. _Ref._ i. 16 (R. P. 221).

Till quite recently no fragment of Hippon was known to exist, but a
single one has now been recovered from the Geneva Scholia on Homer.[994]
It is directed against the old assumption that the “waters under the
earth” are an independent source of moisture, and runs thus:

  The waters we drink are all from the sea; for if wells were deeper
  than the sea, then it would not, doubtless, be from the sea that we
  drink, for then the water would not be from the sea, but from some
  other source. But as it is, the sea is deeper than the waters, so all
  the waters that are above the sea come from it. R. P. 219 b.

We observe here the universal assumption that water tends to rise from
the earth, not to sink into it.

Along with Hippon, Idaios of Himera[995] may just be mentioned. We
really know nothing of him except that he held air to be the primary
substance. The fact that he was of Sicilian origin is, however,
suggestive.

Footnote 994:

  _Schol. Genav._ p. 197, 19. Cf. Diels in _Arch._ iv. p. 653. The
  extract comes from the Ὁμηρικά of Krates of Mallos.

Footnote 995:

  Sext. _adv. Math._ ix. 360.


                       II. DIOGENES OF APOLLONIA

[Sidenote: Date.]

186. After discussing the three great representatives of the Milesian
school, Theophrastos went on to say:

  And Diogenes of Apollonia, too, who was almost the latest of those who
  gave themselves up to these studies, wrote most of his work in an
  eclectic fashion, agreeing in some points with Anaxagoras and in
  others with Leukippos. He, too, says that the primary substance of the
  universe is Air infinite and eternal, from which by condensation,
  rarefaction, and change of state, the form of everything else arises.
  R. P. 206 a.[996]

Footnote 996:

  On this passage see Diels, “Leukippos und Diogenes von Apollonia”
  (_Rhein. Mus._ xlii. pp. 1 sqq.). Natorp’s view that the words are
  merely those of Simplicius (_ib._ xli. pp. 349 sqq.) can hardly be
  maintained.

This passage shows that the Apolloniate was somewhat later in date than
the statement in Laertios Diogenes[997] that he was contemporary with
Anaxagoras would lead us to suppose, and the fact that he is satirised
in the _Clouds_ of Aristophanes points in the same direction.[998] Of
his life we know next to nothing. He was the son of Apollothemis, and
came from Apollonia in Crete.[999] The Ionic dialect in which he wrote
is no objection to this; it was the regular dialect for cosmological
works.[1000]

Footnote 997:

  Diog. ix. 57 (R. P. 206). The statement of Antisthenes, the writer of
  _Successions_, that he had “heard” Anaximenes is due to the usual
  confusion. He was doubtless, like Anaxagoras, “an associate of the
  philosophy of Anaximenes.” Cf. Chap. VI. § 122.

Footnote 998:

  Aristoph. _Clouds_, 227 sqq., where Sokrates speaks of “mixing his
  subtle thought with the kindred air,” and especially the words ἡ γῆ
  βίᾳ | ἕλκει πρὸς αὑτὴν τὴν ἱκμάδα τῆς φροντίδος. For the ἱκμάς, see
  Beare, p. 259. Cf. also Eur. _Tro._ 884, ὦ γῆς ὄχημα κἀπὶ γῆς ἕδραν
  ἔχων κ.τ.λ.

Footnote 999:

  Diog. ix. 57 (R. P. 206).

Footnote 1000:

  Cf. Chap. VII. pp. 327 sqq.

The fact that Diogenes was parodied in the _Clouds_ suggests that he had
found his way to Athens; and we have the excellent authority of
Demetrios Phalereus[1001] for saying that the Athenians treated him in
the usual way. He excited so great dislike as nearly to imperil his
life.

Footnote 1001:

  Diog. ix. 57, τοῦτόν φησιν ὁ Φαληρεὺς Δημήτριος ἐν τῇ Σωκράτους
  ἀπολογίᾳ διὰ μέγαν φθόνον μικροῦ κινδυνεῦσαι Ἀθήνησιν. Diels follows
  Volkmann in holding that this is a note on Anaxagoras which has been
  inserted in the wrong place. I do not think this is necessary, though
  it is certainly possible.

[Sidenote: Writings.]

187. Simplicius affirms that Diogenes wrote several works, though he
allows that only one survived till his own day, namely, the Περὶ
φύσεως.[1002] This statement is based upon references in the surviving
work itself, and is not to be lightly rejected. In particular, it is
very credible that he wrote a tract _Against the Sophists_, that is to
say, the pluralist cosmologists of the day.[1003] That he wrote a
_Meteorology_ and a book called _The Nature of Man_ is also quite
probable. This would be a physiological or medical treatise, and perhaps
the famous fragment about the veins comes from it.[1004]

Footnote 1002:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 151, 24 (R. P. 207 a).

Footnote 1003:

  Simplicius says Πρὸς φυσιολόγους, but he adds that Diogenes called
  them σοφισταί, which is the older word. This is, so far, in favour of
  the genuineness of the work.

Footnote 1004:

  Diels gives this as fr. 6 (_Vors._ p. 350). I have omitted it, as it
  really belongs to the history of Medicine.

[Sidenote: The Fragments.]

188. The work of Diogenes seems to have been preserved in the Academy;
practically all the fairly extensive fragments which we still have are
derived from Simplicius. I give them as they are arranged by Diels:—

  (1) In beginning any discourse, it seems to me that one should make
  one’s starting-point something indisputable, and one’s expression
  simple and dignified. R. P. 207.

  (2) My view is, to sum it all up, that all things are differentiations
  of the same thing, and are the same thing. And this is obvious; for,
  if the things which are now in this world—earth, and water, and air
  and fire, and the other things which we see existing in this world,—if
  any one of these things, I say, were different from any other,
  different, that is, by having a substance peculiar to itself; and if
  it were not the same thing that is often changed and differentiated,
  then things could not in any way mix with one another, nor could they
  do one another good or harm. Neither could a plant grow out of the
  earth, nor any animal nor anything else come into being unless things
  were composed in such a way as to be the same. But all these things
  arise from the same thing; they are differentiated and take different
  forms at different times, and return again to the same thing. R. P.
  208.

  (3) For it would not be possible for it to be divided as it is without
  intelligence, so as to keep the measures of all things, of winter and
  summer, of day and night, of rains and winds and fair weather. And any
  one who cares to reflect will find that everything else is disposed in
  the best possible manner. R. P. 210.

  (4) And, further, there are still the following great proofs. Men and
  all other animals live upon air by breathing it, and this is their
  soul and their intelligence, as will be clearly shown in this work;
  while, when this is taken away, they die, and their intelligence
  fails. R. P. 210.

  (5) And my view is, that that which has intelligence is what men call
  air, and that all things have their course steered by it, and that it
  has power over all things. For this very thing I hold to be a
  god,[1005] and to reach everywhere, and to dispose everything, and to
  be in everything; and there is not anything which does not partake in
  it. Yet no single thing partakes in it just in the same way as
  another; but there are many modes both of air and of intelligence. For
  it undergoes many transformations, warmer and colder, drier and
  moister, more stable and in swifter motion, and it has many other
  differentiations in it, and an infinite number of colours and savours.
  And the soul of all living things is the same, namely, air warmer than
  that outside us and in which we are, but much colder than that near
  the sun. And this warmth is not alike in any two kinds of living
  creatures, nor, for the matter of that, in any two men; but it does
  not differ much, only so far as is compatible with their being alike.
  At the same time, it is not possible for any of the things which are
  differentiated to be exactly like one another till they all once more
  become the same.

  (6) Since, then, differentiation is multiform, living creatures are
  multiform and many, and they are like one another neither in
  appearance nor in intelligence, because of the multitude of
  differentiations. At the same time, they all live, and see, and hear
  by the same thing, and they all have their intelligence from the same
  source. R. P. 211.

  (7) And this itself is an eternal and undying body, but of those
  things[1006] some come into being and some pass away.

  (8) But this, too, appears to me to be obvious, that it is both great,
  and mighty, and eternal, and undying, and of great knowledge. R. P.
  209.

Footnote 1005:

  The MSS. of Simplicius have ἔθος, not θεός; but I adopt Usener’s
  certain correction. It is confirmed by the statement of Theophrastos,
  that the air within us is “a small portion of the god” (_de Sens._
  42); and by Philodemos (_Dox._ p. 536), where we read that Diogenes
  praises Homer, τὸν ἀέρα γὰρ αὐτὸν Δία νομίζειν φησίν, ἐπειδὴ πᾶν
  εἰδέναι τὸν Δία λέγει (cf. Cic. _Nat. D._ i. 12, 29).

Footnote 1006:

  The MSS. of Simplicius have τῷ δέ, but surely the Aldine τῶν δέ is
  right.

That the chief interest of Diogenes was a physiological one, is clear
from his elaborate account of the veins, preserved by Aristotle.[1007]
It is noticeable, too, that one of his arguments for the underlying
unity of all substances is that without this it would be impossible to
understand how one thing could do good or harm to another (fr. 2). In
fact, the writing of Diogenes is essentially of the same character as a
good deal of the pseudo-Hippokratean literature, and there is much to be
said for the view that the writers of these curious tracts made use of
him very much as they did of Anaxagoras and Herakleitos.[1008]

Footnote 1007:

  Arist. _Hist. An._ Γ, 2. 511 b 30.

Footnote 1008:

  See Weygoldt, “Zu Diogenes von Apollonia” (_Arch._ i. pp. 161 sqq.).
  Hippokrates himself represented just the opposite tendency to that of
  those writers. His great achievement was the separation of medicine
  from philosophy, a separation most beneficial to both (Celsus, i.
  pr.). This is why the Hippokratean corpus contains some works in which
  the “sophists” are denounced and others in which their writings are
  pillaged. To the latter class belong the Περὶ διαίτης and the Περὶ
  φυσῶν; to the former, especially the Περὶ ἀρχαίης ἰατρικῆς.

[Sidenote: Cosmology.]

189. Like Anaximenes, Diogenes regarded Air as the primary substance;
but we see from his arguments that he lived at a time when other views
had become prevalent. He speaks clearly of the four Empedoklean elements
(fr. 2), and he is careful to attribute to Air the attributes of Nous as
taught by Anaxagoras (fr. 4). The doxographical tradition as to his
cosmological views is fairly preserved:—

  Diogenes of Apollonia makes air the element, and holds that all things
  are in motion, and that there are innumerable worlds. And he describes
  the origin of the world thus. When the All moves and becomes rare in
  one place and dense in another, where the dense met together it formed
  a mass, and then the other things arose in the same way, the lightest
  parts occupying the highest position and producing the sun. [Plut.]
  _Strom._ fr. 12 (R. P. 215).

  Nothing arises from what is not nor passes away into what is not. The
  earth is round, poised in the middle, having received its shape
  through the revolution proceeding from the warm and its solidification
  from the cold. Diog. ix. 57 (R. P. 215).

  The heavenly bodies were like pumice-stone. He thinks they are the
  breathing-holes of the world, and that they are red-hot. Aet. ii. 13,
  5 = Stob. i. 508 (R. P. 215).

  The sun was like pumice-stone, and into it the rays from the aether
  fix themselves. Aet. ii. 20, 10. The moon was a pumice-like
  conflagration. _Ib._ ii. 25, 10.

  Along with the visible heavenly bodies revolve invisible stones, which
  for that very reason are nameless; but they often fall and are
  extinguished on the earth like the stone star which fell down flaming
  at Aigospotamos.[1009] _Ib._ ii. 13, 9.

Footnote 1009:

  See Chap. VI. p. 292, _n._ 657.

We have here nothing more than the old Ionian doctrine with a few
additions from more recent sources. Rarefaction and condensation still
hold their place in the explanation of the opposites, warm and cold, dry
and moist, stable and mobile (fr. 5). The differentiations into
opposites which Air may undergo are, as Anaxagoras had taught, infinite
in number; but all may be reduced to the primary opposition of rare and
dense. We may gather, too, from Censorinus[1010] that Diogenes did not,
like Anaximenes, speak of earth and water as arising from Air by
condensation, but rather of blood, flesh, and bones. In this he followed
Anaxagoras (§ 130), as it was natural that he should. That portion of
Air, on the other hand, which was rarefied became fiery, and produced
the sun and heavenly bodies. The circular motion of the world is due to
the intelligence of the Air, as is also the division of all things into
different forms of body and the observance of the “measures” by these
forms.[1011]

Footnote 1010:

  Censorinus, _de die natali_, 6, 1 (_Dox._ p. 190).

Footnote 1011:

  On the “measures” see Chap. III. § 72.

Like Anaximander (§ 20), Diogenes regarded the sea as the remainder of
the original moist state, which had been partially evaporated by the
sun, so as to separate out the remaining earth.[1012] The earth itself
is round, that is to say, it is a disc: for the language of the
doxographers does not point to the spherical form.[1013] Its
solidification by the cold is due to the fact that cold is a form of
condensation.

Footnote 1012:

  Theophr. _ap._ Alex. in _Meteor._ p. 67, 1 (_Dox._ p. 494).

Footnote 1013:

  Diog. ix. 57 (R. P. 215).

Diogenes did not hold with the earlier cosmologists that the heavenly
bodies were made of air or fire, nor yet with Anaxagoras, that they were
stones. They were, he said, pumice-like, a view in which we may trace
the influence of Leukippos. They were earthy, indeed, but not solid, and
the celestial fire permeated their pores. And this explains why we do
not see the dark bodies which, in common with Anaxagoras, he held to
revolve along with the stars. They really are solid stones, and
therefore cannot be penetrated by the fire. It was one of these that
fell into the Aigospotamos. Like Anaxagoras, Diogenes affirmed that the
inclination of the earth happened subsequently to the rise of
animals.[1014]

We are prepared to find that Diogenes held the doctrine of innumerable
worlds; for it was the old Milesian belief, and had just been revived
by Anaxagoras and Leukippos. He is mentioned with the rest in the
_Placita_; and if Simplicius classes him and Anaximenes with
Herakleitos as holding the Stoic doctrine of successive formations and
destructions of a single world, he has probably been misled by the
“accommodators.”[1015]

Footnote 1014:

  Aet. ii. 8, 1 (R. P. 215).

Footnote 1015:

  Simpl. _Phys._ p. 1121, 12. See Chap. I. p. 83, _n._ 123.

[Sidenote: Animals and plants.]

190. Living creatures arose from the earth, doubtless under the
influence of heat. Their souls, of course, were air, and their
differences were due to the various degrees in which it was rarefied or
condensed (fr. 5). No special seat, such as the heart or the brain, was
assigned to the soul; it was simply the warm air circulating with the
blood in the veins.

The views of Diogenes as to generation, respiration, and the blood,
belong to the history of Medicine;[1016] his theory of sensation too, as
it is described by Theophrastos,[1017] need only be mentioned in
passing. Briefly stated, it amounts to this, that all sensation is due
to the action of air upon the brain and other organs, while pleasure is
aeration of the blood. But the details of the theory can only be studied
properly in connexion with the Hippokratean writings; for Diogenes does
not really represent the old cosmological tradition, but a fresh
development of reactionary philosophical views combined with an entirely
new enthusiasm for detailed investigation and accumulation of facts.

Footnote 1016:

  See Censorinus, quoted in _Dox._ p. 191.

Footnote 1017:

  Theophr. _de Sens._ 39 sqq. (R. P. 213, 214). For a full account, see
  Beare, pp. 41 sqq., 105, 140, 169, 209, 258. As Prof. Beare remarks,
  Diogenes “is one of the most interesting of the pre-Platonic
  psychologists” (p. 258).


                        III. ARCHELAOS OF ATHENS

[Sidenote: Anaxagoreans.]

191. The last of the early cosmologists was Archelaos of Athens, who was
a disciple of Anaxagoras.[1018] He is also said to have been the teacher
of Sokrates, a statement by no means so improbable as is sometimes
supposed.[1019] There is no reason to doubt the tradition that Archelaos
succeeded Anaxagoras in the school at Lampsakos.[1020] We certainly hear
of Anaxagoreans,[1021] though their fame was soon obscured by the rise
of the Sophists, as we call them.

Footnote 1018:

  Diog. ii. 16 (R. P. 216).

Footnote 1019:

  See Chiapelli in _Arch._ iv. pp. 369 sqq.

Footnote 1020:

  Euseb. _P. E._ p. 504, c 3, ὁ δὲ Ἀρχέλαος ἐν Λαμψάκῳ διεδέξατο τὴν
  σχολὴν τοῦ Ἀναξαγόρου.

Footnote 1021:

  Ἀναξαγόρειοι are mentioned by Plato (_Crat._ 409 b 6), and often by
  the Aristotelian commentators.

[Sidenote: Cosmology.]

192. On the cosmology of Archelaos, Hippolytos[1022] writes as follows:—

  Archelaos was by birth an Athenian, and the son of Apollodoros. He
  spoke of the mixture of matter in a similar way to Anaxagoras, and of
  the first principles likewise. He held, however, that there was a
  certain mixture immanent even in Nous. And he held that there were two
  efficient causes which were separated off from one another, namely,
  the warm and the cold. The former was in motion, the latter at rest.
  When the water was liquefied it flowed to the centre, and there being
  burnt up it turned to earth and air, the latter of which was borne
  upwards, while the former took up its position below. These, then, are
  the reasons why the earth is at rest, and why it came into being. It
  lies in the centre, being practically no appreciable part of the
  universe. (But the air rules over all things),[1023] being produced by
  the burning of the fire, and from its original combustion comes the
  substance of the heavenly bodies. Of these the sun is the largest, and
  the moon second; the rest are of various sizes. He says that the
  heavens were inclined, and that then the sun made light upon the
  earth, made the air transparent, and the earth dry; for it was
  originally a pond, being high at the circumference and hollow in the
  centre. He adduces as a proof of this hollowness that the sun does not
  rise and set at the same time for all peoples, as it ought to do if
  the earth were level. As to animals, he says that when the earth was
  first being warmed in the lower part where the warm and the cold were
  mingled together, many living creatures appeared, and especially men,
  all having the same manner of life, and deriving their sustenance from
  the slime; they did not live long, and later on generation from one
  another began. And men were distinguished from the rest, and set up
  leaders, and laws, and arts, and cities, and so forth. And he says
  that Nous is implanted in all animals alike; for each of the animals,
  as well as man, makes use of Nous, but some quicker and some slower.

Footnote 1022:

  Hipp. _Ref._ i. 9 (R. P. 218).

Footnote 1023:

  Inserting τὸν δ’ ἀέρα κρατεῖν τοῦ παντός, as suggested by Roeper.

It is not necessary to say much with regard to this theory, which in
many respects contrasts unfavourably with its predecessors. It is clear
that, just as Diogenes had tried to introduce certain Anaxagorean ideas
into the philosophy of Anaximenes, so Archelaos sought to bring
Anaxagoreanism nearer to the old Ionic views by supplementing it with
the opposition of warm and cold, rare and dense, and by stripping Nous
of that simplicity which had marked it off from the other “things” in
his master’s system. It was probably for this reason, too, that Nous was
no longer regarded as the maker of the world.[1024] Leukippos had made
such a force unnecessary. It may be added that this twofold relation of
Archelaos to his predecessors makes it very credible that, as Aetios
tells us,[1025] he believed in innumerable worlds; both Anaxagoras and
the older Ionians upheld that doctrine.

Footnote 1024:

  Aet. i. 7, 4 = Stob. i. 56 (R. P. 217 a).

[Sidenote: Conclusion.]

193. The cosmology of Archelaos, like that of Diogenes, has all the
characteristics of the age to which it belonged—an age of reaction,
eclecticism, and investigation of detail.[1026] Hippon of Samos and
Idaios of Himera represent nothing more than the feeling that philosophy
had run into a blind alley, from which it could only escape by trying
back. The Herakleiteans at Ephesos, impenetrably wrapped up as they were
in their own system, did little but exaggerate its paradoxes and develop
its more fanciful side.[1027] It was not enough for Kratylos to say with
Herakleitos (fr. 84) that you cannot step twice into the same river; you
could not do so even once.[1028] But in nothing was the total bankruptcy
of the early cosmology so clearly shown as in the work of Gorgias,
entitled _Substance or the Non-existent_, in which an absolute nihilism
was set forth and based upon the Eleatic dialectic.[1029] The fact is
that philosophy, so long as it clung to its old presuppositions, had
nothing more to say; for the answer of Leukippos to the question of
Thales was really final. Fresh life must be given to the speculative
impulse by the raising of new problems, those of knowledge and conduct,
before any further progress was possible; and this was done by the
“Sophists” and Sokrates. Then, in the hands of Demokritos and Plato,
philosophy took a new form, and started on a fresh course.

Footnote 1025:

  Aet. ii. 1, 3.

Footnote 1026:

  Windelband, § 25. The period is well described by Fredrich,
  _Hippokratische Untersuchungen_, pp. 130 sqq. It can only be treated
  fully in connexion with the Sophists.

Footnote 1027:

  For an amusing picture of the Herakleiteans see Plato, _Tht._ 179 e.
  The new interest in language, which the study of rhetoric had called
  into life, took with them the form of fantastic and arbitrary
  etymologising, such as is satirised in Plato’s _Cratylus_.

Footnote 1028:

  Arist. _Met._ Γ, 5. 1010 a 12. He refused even to speak, we are told,
  and only moved his finger.

Footnote 1029:

  Sext. _adv. Math._ vii. 65 (R. P. 235); _M.X.G._ 979 a 13 (R. P. 236).




                                APPENDIX
                              THE SOURCES


                           _A._—PHILOSOPHERS

[Sidenote: Plato.]

1. It is not very often that Plato allows himself to dwell upon the
history of philosophy as it was before the rise of ethical and
epistemological inquiry; but when he does, his guidance is simply
invaluable. His artistic gift and his power of entering into the
thoughts of other men enabled him to describe the views of early
philosophers in a thoroughly objective manner, and he never, except in a
playful and ironical way, sought to read unthought-of meanings into the
words of his predecessors. Of special value for our purpose are his
contrast between Empedokles and Herakleitos (_Soph._ 242 d), and his
account of the relation between Zeno and Parmenides (_Parm._ 128 a).

See Zeller, “Plato’s Mittheilungen über frühere und gleichzeitige
Philosophen” (_Arch._ v. pp. 165 sqq.); and Index, _s.v._ Plato.


[Sidenote: Aristotle.]

2. As a rule, Aristotle’s statements about early philosophers are less
historical than Plato’s. Not that he failed to understand the facts, but
he nearly always discusses them from the point of view of his own
system. He is convinced that his own philosophy accomplishes what all
previous philosophers had aimed at, and their systems are therefore
regarded as “lisping” attempts to formulate it (_Met._ Α, 10. 993 a 15).
It is also to be noted that Aristotle regards some systems in a much
more sympathetic way than others. He is distinctly unfair to the
Eleatics, for instance.

It is often forgotten that Aristotle derived much of his information
from Plato, and we must specially observe that he more than once takes
Plato’s irony too literally.

See Emminger, _Die Vorsokratischen Philosophen nach den Berichten des
Aristoteles_, 1878. Index, _s.v._ Aristotle.

                  *       *       *       *       *

[Sidenote: Stoics.]

3. The Stoics, and especially Chrysippos, paid great attention to early
philosophy, but their way of regarding it was simply an exaggeration of
Aristotle’s. They did not content themselves with criticising their
predecessors from their own point of view; they seem really to have
believed that the early poets and thinkers held views hardly
distinguishable from theirs. The word συνοικειοῦν, which Cicero renders
by _accommodare_, was used by Philodemos to denote this method of
interpretation,[1030] which has had serious results upon our tradition,
especially in the case of Herakleitos (p. 157).

Footnote 1030:

  Cf. Cic. _De nat. D._ i. 15, 41: “Et haec quidem (Chrysippus) in primo
  libro de natura deorum, in secundo autem vult Orphei, Musaei, Hesiodi
  Homerique fabellas accommodare ad ea quae ipse primo libro de deis
  immortalibus dixerat, ut etiam veterrimi poetae, qui haec ne suspicati
  quidem sunt, Stoici fuisse videantur.” Cf. Philod. _de piet. fr._ c.
  13, ἐν δὲ τῷ δευτέρῳ τά τε εἰς Ὀρφέα καὶ Μουσαῖον ἀναφερόμενα καὶ τὰ
  παρ’ Ὁμήρῳ καὶ Ἡσιόδῳ καὶ Εὐριπίδῃ καὶ ποιηταῖς ἄλλοις, ὡς καὶ
  Κλεάνθης, πειρᾶται συνοικειοῦν ταῖς δόξαις αὐτῶν.


[Sidenote: Skeptics.]

4. The same remarks apply _mutatis mutandis_ to the Skeptics. The
interest of such a writer as Sextus Empiricus in early philosophy is to
show that skepticism went back to an early date—as far as Xenophanes, in
fact. But what he tells us is often of value; for he frequently quotes
early views as to knowledge and sensation in support of his thesis.


[Sidenote: Neoplatonists.]

5. Under this head we have chiefly to consider the commentators on
Aristotle in so far as they are independent of the Theophrastean
tradition. Their chief characteristic is what Simplicius calls
εὐγνωμοσύνη, that is, a liberal spirit of interpretation, which makes
all early philosophers agree with one another in upholding the doctrine
of a Sensible and an Intelligible World. It is, however, to Simplicius
more than any one else that we owe the preservation of the fragments. He
had, of course, the library of the Academy at his disposal.


                           _B._—DOXOGRAPHERS

[Sidenote: The _Doxographi graeci_.]

6. The _Doxographi graeci_ of Professor Hermann Diels (1879) threw an
entirely new light upon the filiation of the later sources; and we can
only estimate justly the value of statements derived from these if we
bear constantly in mind the results of his investigation. Here it will
only be possible to give an outline which may help the reader to find
his way in the _Doxographi graeci_ itself.

                  *       *       *       *       *

[Sidenote: The “Opinions” of Theophrastos]

7. By the term _doxographers_ we understand all those writers who relate
the opinions of the Greek philosophers, and who derive their material,
directly or indirectly, from the great work of Theophrastos, Φυσικῶν
δοξῶν ιηʹ (Diog. v. 46). Of this work, one considerable chapter, that
entitled Περὶ αἰσθήσεων, has been preserved (_Dox._ pp. 499-527). And
Usener, following Brandis, further showed that there were important
fragments of it contained in the commentary of Simplicius (sixth cent.
A.D.) on the First Book of Aristotle’s Φυσικὴ ἀκρόασις (Usener,
_Analecta Theophrastea_, pp. 25 sqq.). These extracts Simplicius seems
to have borrowed in turn from Alexander of Aphrodisias (_c._ 200 A.D.);
cf. _Dox._ p. 112 sqq. We thus possess a very considerable portion of
the First Book, which dealt with the ἀρχαί as well as practically the
whole of the last Book.

From these remains it clearly appears that the method of Theophrastos
was to discuss in separate books the leading topics which had engaged
the attention of philosophers from Thales to Plato. The chronological
order was not observed; the philosophers were grouped according to the
affinity of their doctrine, the differences between those who appeared
to agree most closely being carefully noted. The First Book, however,
was in some degree exceptional; for in it the order was that of the
successive schools, and short historical and chronological notices were
inserted.

                  *       *       *       *       *

[Sidenote: Doxographers.]

8. A work of this kind was, of course, a godsend to the epitomators and
compilers of handbooks, who flourished more and more as the Greek genius
declined. These either followed Theophrastos in arranging the
subject-matter under heads, or else they broke up his work, and
rearranged his statements under the names of the various philosophers to
whom they applied. This latter class form the natural transition between
the doxographers proper and the biographers, so I have ventured to
distinguish them by the name of _biographical doxographers_.

                         I. DOXOGRAPHERS PROPER

[Sidenote: The _Placita_ and Stobaios.]

9. These are now represented by two works, viz. the _Placita
Philosophorum_, included among the writings ascribed to Plutarch, and
the _Eclogae Physicae_ of John Stobaios (_c._ 470 A.D.). The latter
originally formed one work with the _Florilegium_ of the same author,
and includes a transcript of some epitome substantially identical with
the pseudo-Plutarchean _Placita_. It is, however, demonstrable that
neither the _Placita_ nor the doxography of the _Eclogae_ is the
original of the other. The latter is usually the fuller of the two, and
yet the former must be earlier; for it was used by Athenagoras for his
defence of the Christians in 177 A.D. (_Dox._ p. 4). It was also the
source of the notices in Eusebios and Cyril, and of the _History of
Philosophy_ ascribed to Galen. From these writers many important
corrections of the text have been derived (_Dox._ pp. 5 sqq.).

Another writer who made use of the _Placita_ is Achilles (_not_ Achilles
Tatius). Extracts from his Εἰσαγωγή to the _Phaenomena_ of Aratos are
included in the _Uranologion_ of Petavius, pp. 121-164. His date is
uncertain, but probably he belongs to the third century A.D. (_Dox._ p.
18).


[Sidenote: Aetios.]

10. What, then, was the common source of the _Placita_ and the
_Eclogae_? Diels has shown that Theodoret (_c._ 445 A.D.) had access to
it; for in some cases he gives a fuller form of statements made in these
two works. Not only so, but he also names that source; for he refers us
(_Gr. aff. cur._ iv. 31) to Ἀετίου τὴν περὶ ἀρεσκόντων συναγωγήν. Diels
has accordingly printed the _Placita_ in parallel columns with the
relevant parts of the _Eclogae_, under the title of _Aetii Placita_. The
quotations from “Plutarch” by later writers, and the extracts of
Theodoret from Aetios, are also given at the foot of each page.


[Sidenote: The _Vetusta Placita_.]

11. Diels has shown further, however, that Aetios did not draw directly
from Theophrastos, but from an intermediate epitome which he calls the
_Vetusta Placita_, traces of which may be found in Cicero (_infra_, §
12), and in Censorinus (_De die natali_), who follows Varro. The
_Vetusta Placita_ were composed in the school of Poseidonios, and Diels
now calls them the Poseidonian Ἀρέσκοντα (_Über das phys. System des
Straton_, p. 2). There are also traces of them in the “Homeric
Allegorists.”

It is quite possible, by discounting the somewhat unintelligent
additions which Aetios made from Epicurean and other sources, to form a
pretty accurate table of the contents of the _Vetusta Placita_ (_Dox._
pp. 181 sqq.), and this gives us a fair idea of the arrangement of the
original work by Theophrastos.


[Sidenote: Cicero.]

12. So far as what he tells us of the earliest Greek philosophy goes,
Cicero must be classed with the doxographers, and not with the
philosophers; for he gives us nothing but extracts at second or third
hand from the work of Theophrastos. Two passages in his writings fall to
be considered under this head, namely, “Lucullus” (_Acad._ ii.), 118,
and _De natura Deorum_, i. 25-41.

(_a_) _Doxography of the “Lucullus.”_—This contains a meagre and
inaccurately-rendered summary of the various opinions held by
philosophers with regard to the ἀρχή (_Dox._ pp. 119 sqq.), and would be
quite useless if it did not in one case enable us to verify the exact
words of Theophrastos (Chap. I. p. 52, _n._ 2). The doxography has come
through the hands of Kleitomachos, who succeeded Karneades in the
headship of the Academy (129 B.C.).

(_b_) _Doxography of the “De natura Deorum.”_—A fresh light was thrown
upon this important passage by the discovery at Herculaneum of a roll
containing fragments of an Epicurean treatise, so like it as to be at
once regarded as its original. This treatise was at first ascribed to
Phaidros, on the ground of the reference in _Epp. ad Att._ xiii. 39. 2;
but the real title, Φιλοδήμου περὶ εὐσεβείας, was afterwards restored
(_Dox._ p. 530). Diels, however, has shown (_Dox._ pp. 122 sqq.) that
there is much to be said for the view that Cicero did not copy
Philodemos, but that both drew from a common source (no doubt Phaidros,
Περὶ θεῶν) which itself went back to a Stoic epitome of Theophrastos.
The passage of Cicero and the relevant fragments of Philodemos are
edited in parallel columns by Diels (_Dox._ pp. 531 sqq.).

                     II. BIOGRAPHICAL DOXOGRAPHERS

[Sidenote: Hippolytos.]

13. Of the “biographical doxographies,” the most important is Book I. of
the _Refutation of all Heresies_ by Hippolytos. This had long been known
as the _Philosophoumena_ of Origen; but the discovery of the remaining
books, which were first published at Oxford in 1854, showed finally that
it could not belong to him. It is drawn mainly from some good epitome of
Theophrastos, in which the matter was already rearranged under the names
of the various philosophers. We must note, however, that the sections
dealing with Thales, Pythagoras, Herakleitos, and Empedokles come from
an inferior source, some merely biographical compendium full of
apocryphal anecdotes and doubtful statements.


[Sidenote: The _Stromateis_.]

14. The fragments of the pseudo-Plutarchean _Stromateis_, quoted by
Eusebios in his _Praeparatio Evangelica_, come from a source similar to
that of the best portions of the _Philosophoumena_. So far as we can
judge, they differ chiefly in two points. In the first place, they are
mostly taken from the earliest sections of the work, and therefore most
of them deal with the primary substance, the heavenly bodies and the
earth. In the second place, the language is a much less faithful
transcript of the original.


[Sidenote: “Diogenes Laertios.”]

15. The scrap-book which goes by the name of Diogenes Laertios, or
Laertios Diogenes (cf. Usener, _Epicurea_, pp. 1 sqq.), contains large
fragments of two distinct doxographies. One is of the merely
biographical, anecdotic, and apophthegmatic kind used by Hippolytos in
his first four chapters; the other is of a better class, more like the
source of Hippolytos’ remaining chapters. An attempt is made to disguise
this “contamination” by referring to the first doxography as a “summary”
(κεφαλαιωδής) account, while the second is called “particular” (ἐπὶ
μέρους).


[Sidenote: Patristic doxographies.]

16. Short doxographical summaries are to be found in Eusebios (_P. E._
x., xiv., xv.), Theodoret (_Gr. aff. cur._ ii. 9-11), Irenæus (_C.
haer._ ii. 14), Arnobius (_Adv. nat._ ii. 9), Augustine (_Civ. Dei_,
viii. 2). These depend mainly upon the writers of “Successions,” whom we
shall have to consider in the next section.


                            _C._—BIOGRAPHERS

[Sidenote: Successions.]

17. The first to write a work entitled _Successions of the Philosophers_
was Sotion (Diog. ii. 12; R. P. 4 a), about 200 B.C. The arrangement of
his work is explained in _Dox._ p. 147. It was epitomised by Herakleides
Lembos. Other writers of Διαδοχαί were Antisthenes, Sosikrates, and
Alexander. All these compositions were accompanied by a very meagre
doxography, and made interesting by the addition of unauthentic
apophthegms and apocryphal anecdotes.


[Sidenote: Hermippos.]

18. The peripatetic Hermippos of Smyrna, known as Καλλιμάχειος (_c._ 200
B.C.), wrote several biographical works which are frequently quoted. The
biographical details are very untrustworthy indeed; but sometimes
bibliographical information is added, which doubtless rests upon the
Πίνακες of Kallimachos.


[Sidenote: Satyros.]

19. Another peripatetic, Satyros, the pupil of Aristarchos, wrote (_c._
160 B.C.) _Lives of Famous Men_. The same remarks apply to him as to
Hermippos. His work was epitomised by Herakleides Lembos.


[Sidenote: “Diogenes Laertios.”]

20. The work which goes by the name of Laertios Diogenes is, in its
biographical parts, a mere patchwork of all earlier learning. It has not
been digested or composed by any single mind at all. It is little more
than a collection of extracts made at haphazard, possibly by more than
one successive possessor of the MS. But, of course, it contains much
that is of the greatest value.


                           _D._—CHRONOLOGISTS

[Sidenote: Eratosthenes and Apollodoros.]

21. The founder of ancient chronology was Eratosthenes of Kyrene
(275-194 B.C.); but his work was soon supplanted by the metrical version
of Apollodoros (_c._ 140 B.C.), from which most of our information as to
the dates of early philosophers is derived. See Diels’ paper on the
Χρονικά of Apollodoros in _Rhein. Mus._ xxxi.; and Jacoby, _Apollodors
Chronik_ (1902).

The method adopted is as follows:—If the date of some striking event in
a philosopher’s life is known, that is taken as his _floruit_ (ἀκμή),
and he is assumed to have been forty years old at that date. In default
of this, some historical era is taken as the _floruit_. Of these the
chief are the eclipse of Thales 586/5 B.C., the taking of Sardeis in
546/5 B.C., the accession of Polykrates in 532/1 B.C., and the
foundation of Thourioi in 444/3 B.C. Further details will easily be
found by reference to the Index, _s.v._ Apollodoros.




                                INDEXES


                               I. ENGLISH

 Aahmes, 22, 46
 Abaris, 87, 97 _n._ 205
 Abdera, school of, 381
 Abstinence, Orphic and Pythagorean, 102 sq., 104 sq.;
   Empedoklean, 289
 Academy, 35
 Achilles and the Tortoise, 367
 Aether. _See_ αἰθήρ
 Aetios, App. § 10
 Aigospotamos, meteoric stone of, 292, 312, 413 sq.
 Air, 77, 78, 79 _n._ 154, 120, 173, 214, 224, 263, 309, 336, 341, 411
    sq. See ἀήρ
 Akousmata, 105 sq., 328
 Akousmatics, 96, 103
 Akragas, 228 sqq.
 Akron, 231
 Alexander Aetolus, 295
 Alexander Aphrodisiensis, 139, 209
 Alkidamas, 229 _n._ 504, 231 _n._ 5, 235, 297 _n._ 675, 321 _n._ 739,
    360
 Alkmaion, 123 _n._ 263, 223 sq., 236, 327, 344, 350
 Amasis, 39
 Ameinias, 193
 Anaxagoras, 290 sqq.;
   and Perikles, 294 sqq.;
   and Euripides, 295;
   relation to Ionic school, 292;
   and Zeno, 362
 Anaxagoreans, 35 _n._ 50, 415
 Anaximander, 52 sqq.
 Anaximenes, 75 sqq.;
   School of, 83, 292, 408 _n._ 997
 Androkydes, 328
 Andron of Ephesos, 93
 Animals, Anaximander, 72 sqq.;
   Empedokles, 279 sqq.;
   Anaxagoras, 315 sqq.;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 414
 Antichthon, 344, 349 sqq.
 Antonius Diogenes, 92
 Apollo Hyperboreios, 93 _n._ 189, 97 _n._ 205, 232
 Apollodoros, App. § 21, 43, 52, 75, 94 _n._ 192, 125, 143, 192 sq., 228
    sq., 290 sq., 358, 370
 Apollonios of Tyana, 90, 92
 Apophthegms, 51, 127
 Archelaos, 415 sqq.
 Archippos, 99, 319
 Archytas, 110, 319, 328, 346
 Aristarchos of Samos, 349
 Aristeas of Prokonnesos, 87, 97 _n._ 205
 Aristophanes, 75, 296 _n._ 669, 381, 408
 Aristotle, App. § 2;
   on Egypt, 18, 23;
   on Thales, 47 sqq., 50;
   on Anaximander, 57 sqq.;
   on Pythagoras, 93 _n._ 189, 100, 107 _n._ 226;
   on Xenophanes, 137 sq., 139 sq.;
   on Herakleitos, 160 _n._ 373, 162, 177, 179;
   on Parmenides, 193, 203, 207, 208, 213;
   on Alkmaion, 223;
   on Empedokles, 177 _n._ 401, 228 _n._ 502, 231 _n._ 511, 234, 237,
      253 _n._ 565, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 271, 272, 274 _n._ 606,
      278, 280, 281, 397 _n._ 962;
   on Anaxagoras, 263 _n._ 582, 291, 303, 305, 306, 309, 310;
   on the Pythagoreans, 100 _n._ 208, 110, 111 _n._ 232, 119, 331 sqq.,
      353 sqq.;
   on Zeno, 361, 365 sqq.;
   on Melissos, 374 sq., 377, 378;
   on Leukippos, 380, 385 sq., 387, 397 _n._ 962;
   on Hippon, 49 _n._ 2, 406;
   on the _galeus levis_, 74 _n._ 141;
   on the theoretic life, 90, 108;
   on the mysteries, 91
 [Aristotle] _de Mundo_, 185
 [Aristotle] _de Plantis_, 279 _n._ 618, 298 _n._ 677, 315
 Aristoxenos on Pythagoras, 92, 94 _n._ 191, 95, 96 _n._ 201, 3, 98 sq.,
    102, 109 _n._ 231;
   on the Pythagoreans, 107, 319, 334, 353;
   Πυθαγορικαὶ ἀποφάσεις, 100 _n._ 209, 325;
   on Hippon, 406 _n._ 988;
   on Plato, 323 sqq.
 Arithmetic, Egyptian, 22, 111 _n._ 233;
   Pythagorean, 109 sq.
 Arithmetical symbolism, 111
 Astronomy, Babylonian and Greek, 25 sqq.
   _See_ Heavenly bodies, Sun, Moon, Planets, Stars, Earth, Eclipses,
      Geocentric and Heliocentric hypothesis
 Atheism, 51, 75, 141
 Athens, Parmenides and Zeno at, 192;
   Anaxagoras at, 294
 Atomism. _See_ Leukippos
 Atoms, 387 sqq.

 Babylonian language, 21 _n._ 29;
   astronomy, 25 sqq.;
   eclipse cycle, 41;
   μαθηματικοί, 350 _n._ 834
 Beans, 102
 Biology. _See_ Animals, Plants
 Blood, Empedokles, 286, 288;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 414
 Brain, Alkmaion, 224;
   Empedokles, 235;
   Sicilian school of medicine, 288 _n._ 645
 Breath. _See_ Respiration.
   Breath of the World, 79, 120

 Cave, Orphic, 257 _n._ 571
 Chaos, 8, 9 _n._ 7
 Chronos, 10
 Cicero, App. § 12;
   on Thales, 50;
   on Anaximander, 64;
   on Anaximenes, 82;
   on Parmenides, 220, 221 _n._ 482;
   on Atomism, 393 _n._ 953, 394 _n._ 956
 Clement of Alexandria, 19
 Comic poets on Pythagoreans, 103 _n._ 218
 Condensation. _See_ Rarefaction
 Conflagration. _See_ ἐκπύρωσις
 Continuity, 369
 Copernicus, 349
 Corporealism, 15 sq., 206, 227, 357, 377
 Cosmogonies, 8 sqq.
 Croesus, 28, 37, 38
 Çulvasūtras, 24

 Damasias, 43 _n._ 68
 Damaskios, 9 _n._ 10, 232
 Darkness, 79, 121, 173, 214
 Death, Herakleitos, 171 sqq.;
   Parmenides, 222;
   Alkmaion, 225;
   Empedokles, 283
 Dekad, 113
 Demetrios Phalereus, 290, 408
 Demokritos, 2 _n._ 1;
   date, 381;
   on Egyptian mathematics, 24;
   on Anaxagoras, 291, 381;
   primitive astronomy of, 345, 392;
   and Leukippos, 381
 Diagonal and Square, 116
 Dialectic, 361
 Dikaiarchos on Pythagoras, 92, 96 _n._ 202, 100
 Diogenes of Apollonia, 381, 407 sqq.
 Divisibility, 304, 306, 362, 365, 376
 Dodecahedron, 341 sqq.
 Doric dialect, 325, 327 sq.

 Earth, a sphere, 26;
   Thales, 47 sqq.;
   Anaximander, 70, 72;
   Anaximenes, 80, 81, 83 _n._ 167;
   Xenophanes, 136;
   Anaxagoras, 313;
   Pythagoreans, 344 sqq.;
   Leukippos, 401;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 413
 Echekrates, 343
 Eclipses, Thales, 40 sqq.;
   Anaximander, 67;
   Anaximenes, 82;
   Herakleitos, 164;
   Alkmaion, 224;
   Empedokles, 276;
   Anaxagoras, 299;
   Pythagoreans, 349 sq.;
   Leukippos, 401
 Ecliptic. _See_ Obliquity
 Effluences. _See_ ἀπορροαί
 Egypt, 39;
   Thales in Egypt, 43;
   Pythagoras and Egypt, 94 sq.
 Egyptian arithmetic, 22 sq.;
   geometry, 23 sq., 44 sq.
 Ekphantos, 338 _n._ 794, 387 _n._ 939
 Elea, era of, 125 _n._ 270, 127, 192
 Eleatics (_see_ Parmenides, Zeno, Melissos), 35 _n._ 49;
   Leukippos and, 382 sqq.
 Elements (_see_ στοιχεῖα, Roots, Seeds, ἰδέα, εἶδος, μορφή), 56 _n._
    103, 57, 59, 235, 263 sqq., 265 _n._ 586, 339 sqq.
 Eleusinia, 86
 Embryology, Parmenides, 203 _n._ 448;
   Empedokles, 282
 Empedokles, 227 sqq.;
   relation to Leukippos, 236, 383, 392;
   on Xenophanes, 138, 246 _n._ 555;
   on Pythagoras, 232, 259 _n._ 577;
   on Parmenides, 239, 261
 Ephesos, 143 sqq.
 Epicurus and Leukippos, 380 sq., 388 _n._ 940, 391 _n._ 949, 394 sq.
 Epimenides, 9, 87
 Equinoxes, precession of, 25, 347 _n._ 824
 Eratosthenes, App. § 21, 228 _n._ 502
 Eros, 9, 219
 Euclid, 116, 117
 Eudemos on Thales, 44 sq.;
   on Pythagoras, 115 _n._ 241, 116 _n._ 243;
   on Parmenides, 203 _n._ 449;
   on Zeno, 363, 366 _n._ 889;
   on the term στοιχεῖον, 263 _n._ 580
 Eudoxos, 118, 216, 342
 Eukleides of Megara, 355
 Euripides (fr. inc. 910), 12 _n._ 14, 14 _n._ 18;
   and Anaxagoras, 295 sq.
 Eurytos, 110 sq., 320, 322
 Eusebios, 19
 Euthymenes, 44
 Even and Odd, 333 sqq.
 Evolution, Anaximander, 73 sq.;
   Empedokles, 281;
   Anaxagoras, 315
 Examyes, 40
 Experiment, 31 sq., 274

 Figures, numerical, 110 sq., 337
 Fire, 121, 160 sq., 215
 Fire, central, 218, 344 sqq.
 Forgeries, 46, 113 _n._ 235, 185
 Fossils, 136

 Galen, 234
 _Galeus levis_, 74 _n._ 141
 Geocentric hypothesis, 31, 123, 218
 Geometry, Egyptian, 23 sq.;
   of Thales, 45 sq.;
   of Pythagoras, 115 sq.
 Glaukos of Rhegion, 228 _n._ 503
 Gnomon (the instrument), 31 _n._ 4, 53
 Gnomon (in geometry and arithmetic), 114 _n._ 238
 Gods, Thales, 50;
   Anaximander, 64, 74;
   Anaximenes, 82;
   Xenophanes, 140 sq.;
   Herakleitos, 188 sq.;
   Empedokles, 264, 272, 288 sq.;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 410 _n._ 1005
 Gorgias, 229 _n._ 504, 231, 234, 256 _n._ 569, 287 _n._ 642, 417
 Great Year, 25, 175

 Harmonics, 118
 “Harmony of the Spheres,” 122, 351.
   _See_ ἁρμονία and Soul
 Harpedonapts, 24, 116
 Hearing, Empedokles, 285;
   Anaxagoras, 317
 Heart, 235, 288 _n._ 645
 Heavenly bodies, Anaximander, 66 sqq.;
   Anaximenes, 80, 81;
   Pythagoras, 122 sq.;
   Xenophanes, 133 sqq.;
   Herakleitos, 165 sqq.;
   Parmenides, 215;
   Empedokles, 274 sq.;
   Anaxagoras, 312;
   Leukippos, 401;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 413
 Hekataios, 20, 44, 46, 53
 Heliocentric hypothesis, 27, 347 _n._ 825, 348 sq.
 Herakleides of Pontos, on Pythagoras, 104, 105, 108, 321 _n._ 739, 387
    _n._ 939;
   on Empedokles, 228 _n._ 502, 3, 233 _n._ 520, 236 _n._ 532;
   heliocentric hypothesis of, 349
 Herakleiteans, 35 _n._ 48, 140, 417
 Herakleitos, 143 sqq.;
   on Homer, 182, 185;
   on Pythagoras, 94, 107, 143;
   on Xenophanes, 143
 Hermodoros, 143
 Herodotos, on Homer and Hesiod, 8;
   on Egyptian influence, 17;
   on geometry, 23;
   on Orphicism, 95 _n._ 195;
   on Solon, 28;
   on Lydian influence, 38;
   on Thales, 38, 39, 40, 43 sq., 46;
   on Pythagoras, 93, 94 _n._ 191, 95 _n._ 195, 2, 107
 Hesiod, 6 sqq.
 Hieron, 125
 Hippasos, 103 _n._ 217, 117, 121, 156, 215, 341, 343, 354
 Hippokrates, 235 _n._ 528, 405 _n._ 987, 411 _n._ 1008;
   Περὶ ἀέρων ὑδάτων τόπων, 79 _n._ 154
 [Hippokrates] Περὶ διαίτης, 167 _n._ 383, 183 _n._ 413, 305 _n._ 695,
    307 _n._ 699, 405 _n._ 986
 Hippokrates, lunules of, 343
 Hippolytos, App. § 13, 156
 Hippon of Samos, 49, 58 _n._ 109, 406 sqq.
 Hippys of Rhegion, 121 _n._ 260
 Homer, 5 sqq.
 Hylozoism, 15
 Hypotenuse, 116

 Iamblichos, _V. Pyth._, 92 _n._ 186
 Ibykos, 220 _n._ 482
 Idaios of Himera, 58 _n._ 109, 407
 Ideas, theory of, 354 sqq.
 Immortality, 91, 172 sq., 225
 Incommensurability, 116 sq.
 Indian philosophy, 21.
   _See_ Transmigration
 Infinity, Anaximander, 59 sqq.;
   Xenophanes, 137 sq.;
   Parmenides, 207;
   Melissos, 375.
   _See_ Divisibility, ἄπειρον
 Injustice, 56, 71, 160, 226
 Ionic dialect, 327 sq., 408

 Justice, 32, 161 _n._ 374

 Kebes and Simmias, 320, 343, 354, 355
 Kebes, Πίναξ, 194
 Kratinos, 406
 Kratylos, 417
 Kritias, 288 _n._ 645
 Kroton, 95 _n._ 198, 222
 Kylon, 97 _n._ 204, 98

 Lampsakos, 297, 415
 Leukippos, 380 sqq.;
   and the Eleatics, 382, 384 sqq.;
   and Empedokles, 236, 383, 392;
   and Anaxagoras, 383 sq., 392;
   and the Pythagoreans, 387, 389, 392;
   and Demokritos, 381, 389 sqq., 401 _n._ 979
 Light, Empedokles, 276.
   _See_ Moon
 Lightning and Thunder, 68, 70, 401 _n._ 979
 Limit, 121, 215, 333 sqq.
 Lives, the three, 108, 109 _n._ 229, 154 _n._ 362
 Love. _See_ Eros, Love and Strife, 266 sqq.
 Lucretius, on Empedokles, 237;
   on Anaxagoras, 306 _n._ 696
 Lydia, 37 sqq.
 Lysis, 99, 319, 326

 Man, Anaximander, 73;
   Herakleitos, 168 sqq.
 Maoris, 9
 Map, Anaximander’s, 53
 Materialism, 208
 Matter. _See_ ὕλη
 Measures, 167 sq., 181, 410, 413
 Medicine, history of, 222, 225, 226, 234, 236, 265 sq., 288 _n._ 645,
    322, 344, 405, 411, 414
 Megarians, 355
 Melissos, 369 sqq.
 _Melissos, Xenophanes and Gorgias_, 138 sqq.
 Menon, Ἰατρικά, 49 _n._ 85, 235 _n._ 527, 322 _n._ 742, 327 _n._ 763,
    340 _n._ 799, 406 _n._ 988
 Metapontion, 95 _n._ 199, 97 _n._ 205
 Metempsychosis. _See_ Transmigration
 Meteorological interest, 49, 70
 Miletos, 37 sqq., 76, 380, 382
 Milky Way, 69, 220, 314
 Milo, 99, 222
 Mochos of Sidon, 19 _n._ 27
 Monism, 206, 227
 Monotheism, 141 sqq.
 Moon, 68;
   light of, 202 _n._ 446, 275, 276, 299, 314
 Motion, eternal, 15, 61;
   denied by Parmenides, 207;
   explained by Empedokles, 267;
   Anaxagoras, 309;
   criticised by Zeno, 366;
   denied by Melissos, 376;
   reaffirmed by Leukippos, 392 sq.
 Mysteries, 90, 190

 Necessity. _See_ Ἀνάγκη
 Nikomachos, 92, 112 _n._ 234
 Nile, 43 sq., 313
 Noumenios, 19
 Nous, 309 sq.
 Numbers, Pythagorean, 331 sqq.;
   triangular, square, and oblong, 114

 Obliquity of the ecliptic (zodiac), 52, 82, 401
 Observation, 29 sq., 73 sq.
 Octave, 118
 Opposites, 56, 186 sq., 225, 235, 266, 305
 Oriental influences, 17 sqq.
 Orphicism, 5, 9 sqq., 87 sq., 95 _n._ 195, 109 _n._ 229, 194, 221, 232,
    257 _n._ 571, 258 _n._ 573

 Parmenides, 192 sqq.;
   on Herakleitos, 143, 198 _n._ 438, 204 sq., 210;
   and Pythagoreanism, 210 sqq.
 Pausanias, 234 _n._ 523, 238
 Pentagram, 343
 Perception, Parmenides, 202 _n._ 447, 222;
   Alkmaion, 223 sq.;
   Empedokles, 284 sq.;
   Anaxagoras, 316 sq.;
   Leukippos, 401 sq.;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 414
 Perikles and Zeno, 193;
   and Anaxagoras, 294 sq.;
   and Melissos, 369
 Petron, 65, 121
 Pherekydes of Syros, 9, 87
 Philistion, 234 _n._ 523, 235 _n._ 526 and 527, 266 _n._ 587, 288 _n._
    645, 356 _n._ 850
 Philo of Byblos, 19 _n._ 27
 Philo Judaeus, 18, 158, 185
 Philodemos, 50 _n._ 89, 64, 221 _n._ 483
 Philolaos, 319, 320 sqq.
 Philosophy as κάθαρσις, 89;
   Pythagorean use of the word, 89 sqq., 194, 321 _n._ 739, 359;
   synonymous with asceticism, 18
 Phleious, 89 _n._ 178, 94 _n._ 191, 109 _n._ 229, 320
 Phoenician influence, 18, 19 _n._ 27, 39
 Physiology, Parmenides, 221 sq.;
   Alkmaion, 223;
   Empedokles, 282;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 411
 Pindar, 232
 Planets, names of, 26 _n._ 40, 220;
   distinguished from fixed stars, 26, 82, 276, 392, 401;
   motion of, 122 sq., 225, 350, 353;
   system of, 344 sq.
 Plants, Empedokles, 277 sq.;
   Anaxagoras, 315 sq.
 Plato, App. § 1;
   on Egyptians and Phoenicians, 17, 20, 27 _n._ 41;
   on Egyptian arithmetic, 22;
   on schools of philosophy, 35;
   on Pythagoras, 96 _n._ 202;
   on Xenophanes, 140;
   on Herakleitos, 140, 159, 162, 176, 178;
   on Herakleiteans, 161 _n._ 373, 188 _n._ 418;
   on Parmenides, 192, 207, 221;
   on Empedokles, 159, 178, 269 _n._ 593;
   on Anaxagoras, 291 _n._ 655, 295, 297 sq., 309;
   on Philolaos, 319;
   on Pythagoreans, 121, 124;
   on incommensurables, 117 _n._ 245;
   on Zeno, 192, 358, 360, 361;
   on Melissos, 379 _n._ 919;
   _Phaedo_, 89 _n._ 178, 91 _n._ 183, 108 _n._ 228, 109 _n._ 229, 172
      _n._ 391,182 _n._ 411, 320 sq., 342, 343, 345, 354;
   _Cratylus_, 417 _n._ 1027;
   _Theaetetus_, 117 _n._ 245, 263 _n._ 580, 338 _n._ 794, 417 _n._
      1027;
   _Sophist_, 356 _n._ 849, 358 _n._ 853;
   _Politicus_, 280 _n._ 621;
   _Parmenides_, 358 _n._ 852, 359, 360 sq.;
   _Philebus_, 323;
   _Symposium_, 221, 281 _n._ 625;
   _Phaedrus_, 295;
   _Gorgias_, 321;
   _Meno_, 234 _n._ 524;
   _Republic_, 25 _n._ 39, 90 _n._ 181, 177 _n._ 400, 216, 219 sq., 352;
   _Timaeus_, 61 _n._ 115, 79 _n._ 154, 113 _n._ 237, 118 _n._ 248, 121,
      122, 225, 287, 340, 342, 345 _n._ 818, 346, 352, 396;
   _Laws_, 107 _n._ 227, 117 _n._ 246, 353
 Pleasure and pain, Empedokles, 285;
   Anaxagoras, 317
 Pliny, 42, 52
 Pluralism, 227 sqq., 357
 Political activity of philosophers, Thales, 46;
   Pythagoras, 96 sq.;
   Parmenides, 195;
   Empedokles, 230 sq.;
   Zeno, 358
 Polybios, 99 _n._ 206
 Polybos, 379
 Polykrates, era of, 53 _n._ 97, 94
 Pores. _See_ πόροι
 Porphyry, 92 _n._ 187, 104 _n._ 219, 257 _n._ 571
 Poseidonios, 19 _n._ 27, 81 _n._ 159
 Precession. _See_ Equinoxes
 Proclus, commentary on Euclid, 44, 115 _n._ 243
 Proportion, 117 sq.
 Protagoras, 188, 360
 Purification. _See_ καθαρμός, κάθαρσις
 Pyramids, measurement of, 45.
   _See_ πυραμίς
 Pythagoras, 91 sqq.;
   forged writings, 325
 Pythagoreans, 212 sqq., 319 sqq.

 Rarefaction and condensation, 77 sqq., 163, 204, 403, 412
 Religion, 85 sqq., 189, 294.
   _See_ Orphicism, Monotheism, Gods, Sacrifice
 Respiration, 235, 253 _n._ 565, 284
 Rest. _See_ Motion
 Revolution, diurnal, 61, 274, 346 sq.
 Rhegion, 99, 220 _n._ 482, 319
 Rhetoric, 86, 234
 Rhind papyrus, 22 sqq.
 Roots, 263

 Sacrifice, mystic, 104 _n._ 220;
   bloodless, 258 _n._ 576
 Salmoxis, 93
 Sanchuniathon, 19 _n._ 27
 Sardeis, era of, 43 _n._ 67, 53, 75
 Schools, 33 sqq., 293
 Sea, Anaximander, 66, 70 sq.;
   Empedokles, 277;
   Anaxagoras, 313;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 413
 Seeds, 306
 Seqt, 23, 46
 Seven Wise Men, 39, 46, 51
 Sight, Alkmaion, 224;
   Empedokles, 284, 287 sq.;
   Anaxagoras, 316
 Silloi, 129
 Sleep, Herakleitos, 169 sq.;
   Empedokles, 283
 Smell, Empedokles, 285;
   Anaxagoras, 316
 Sokrates, Parmenides and Zeno, 192 sq., 358;
   and Archelaos, 415
 Solids, regular, 328 sq., 340
 Solon. _See_ Croesus
 Soul, 86, 91, 168, 225, 343, 414
 Space, 204, 207, 366, 389
 Speusippos, 113 _n._ 236;
   on Parmenides, 195;
   on Pythagorean numbers, 321, 336 _n._ 790
 Sphere, Parmenides, 207 sq.;
   Empedokles, 262.
   _See_ Earth, Eudoxos, Harmony
 Stars, fixed, 68, 80
 Stoics, App. § 3, 157, 179 sq.
 Strabo, 19 _n._ 27, 194, 195 _n._ 430
 Strife, Herakleitos, 184;
   Empedokles, 266 sqq.
 Sun, Anaximander, 68;
   Anaximenes, 80;
   Xenophanes, 134 sq.;
   Herakleitos, 165 sq., 174;
   Empedokles, 274 sq., 347 sq.;
   Anaxagoras, 314

 Taras, 97 _n._ 204, 319
 Taste, Empedokles, 285;
   Anaxagoras, 316
 Tetraktys, 113 sqq.
 Thales, 39 sqq.
 Theaitetos, 117, 329
 Theano, 353
 Thebes, Lysis at, 99, 320;
   Philolaos at, 99
 Theodoros of Kyrene, 117
 Theogony, Hesiodic, 6 sqq.;
   Rhapsodic, 9 _n._ 10, 232
 Theologians, 10
 Theology. _See_ Gods
 Theon of Smyrna, 27 _n._ 41
 Theophrastos, App. § 7;
   on schools, 33, 35, 52;
   on Prometheus, 39 _n._ 55;
   on Thales, 48;
   Anaximander, 54 sqq., 66;
   on Anaximenes, 76 sqq.;
   on Xenophanes, 126, 136, 137;
   on Herakleitos, 145, 156, 163 sqq.;
   on Parmenides, 209, 213, 214, 218, 220;
   on Empedokles, 229 _n._ 504, 236, 267 sq., 272 sqq., 278, 284;
   on Anaxagoras, 291, 292, 293 _n._ 660, 313 sq., 316 sq.;
   on Leukippos, 380 sq., 382, 384 sqq., 390 sqq., 402;
   on Diogenes of Apollonia, 381, 407 sq., 412;
   on Hippon of Samos, 406
 Theoretic life, 291
 Theron of Akragas, 229, 232
 Thourioi, era of, 228
 Timaios Lokros, 323 sqq.
 Timaios of Tauromenion, 228 _n._ 508, 230, 233, 237 _n._ 534
 Timon of Phleious, 129, 324
 Touch, Empedokles, 285;
   Anaxagoras, 316
 Transmigration, 95, 101 sqq., 124, 289 sq.
 Triangle, Pythagorean, 24, 115

 Unit, 337, 365

 Void, Pythagorean, 120, 214, 224, 336, 383;
   Parmenides, 204, 207;
   Alkmaion, 224;
   Atomist, 389 sq.
 Vortex, Empedokles, 274;
   Anaxagoras, 311;
   Leukippos, 399 sqq.

 Water, 48 sqq., 407
 Weight, 394 sqq.
 Wheels, Anaximander, 67 sq.;
   Pythagoras, 122;
   Parmenides, 215
 Worlds, innumerable, Anaximander, 62 sqq.;
   Anaximenes, 82 sq.;
   Pythagoras, 121;
   Xenophanes, 136;
   Anaxagoras, 312;
   Diogenes of Apollonia, 414;
   Archelaos, 417

 Xenophanes, 124 sqq.;
   on Thales, 41;
   on Pythagoras, 124

 Year. _See_ Great Year

 Zamolxis, 93
 Zankle, 127 _n._ 275
 Zeno, 358 sqq.;
   on Empedokles, 359;
   on Pythagoreans, 362


                               II. GREEK

 ἀδικία, 56, 60, 71
 ἀήρ, 79 _n._ 154, 263, 264 _n._ 583, 284 _n._ 634.
   _See_ Air
 αἰθήρ, 263, 264 _n._ 583, 312 _n._ 709
 ἀκούσματα, 105 sq., 328
 ἀκουσματικοί, 96, 103
 Ἀνάγκη, 219, 256 _n._ 569, 269
 ἀναθυμίασις, 167 _n._ 382, 168 _n._ 385
 ἀντέρεισις, 400
 ἄντυξ, 216
 ἄπειρον, 57 _n._ 105, 60 _n._ 113
 ἄπνους, ἡ, 233 _n._ 520, 236 _n._ 533
 ἀπορροαί, 236, 287 _n._ 642
 ἀποτομή, 391 _n._ 949
 ἀριθμητική dist. λογιστική, 23, 111 _n._ 233
 ἁρμονία, 122, 158, 184
 ἁρπεδονάπται, 24
 ἀρχή, 13, 57
 αὐτὸ ὃ ἔστιν, 355 _n._ 847

 γαλεοί, 73 sq.
 γόητες, 106

 δαίμων, 155 _n._ 364, 172 _n._ 391
 διαστήματα, 65 _n._ 126
 δίκη, 32, 161 _n._ 374
 δίνη. _See_ Vortex
 διορίζω, 120 _n._ 254

 εἶδος, 355, 388 _n._ 943
 εἴδωλα, 403
 εἶναι, 198 _n._ 435;
   τὸ ἐόν, 204 _n._ 450
 ἔκθλιψις, 397 _n._ 962
 ἔκκρισις, 61
 ἐκπύρωσις, 178 sqq.
 ἕν, τὸ, 140, 363 _n._ 880, 377
 ἐναντία. _See_ Opposites
 ἑνίζειν, 139 _n._ 306
 ἐπίψαυσις, 400
 ἐστώ, 330 _n._ 770

 θεός, 74.
   _See_ Gods
 θεωρία, 28, 108

 ἰδέα, 235 _n._ 527, 263 _n._ 580, 355, 356 _n._ 850, 388 _n._ 943
 ἶδος, 243 _n._ 549, 249 _n._ 558
 ἰσονομία, 225
 ἰσορροπία, 398
 ἱστορία, 14 _n._ 18, 28, 107 _n._ 244

 καθαρμός, κάθαρσις, 88, 107 sq.
 κεγχρίτης λόγος, 1 _n._ 862
 κλεψύδρα, 253 _n._ 565, 254 _n._ 566, 263, 309, 384
 κληροῦχος, 219
 κόσμος, 32, 148 _n._ 336, 182 _n._ 412
 κρατέω, 310

 λογιστική dist. ἀριθμητική, 23
 λόγος, 146 _n._ 332, 148 _n._ 339, 152 _n._ 355, 153 _n._ 358 and _n._
    359, 157;
   λόγος τοῦ εἶναι, 355 _n._ 847

 μεσότης, 118
 μετάρσια, 296 _n._ 670
 μετεμψύχωσις, 101 _n._ 212
 μετενσωμάτωσις, 101 _n._ 212
 μετέωρα, 32
 μορφή, 263 _n._ 580, 356 _n._ 850

 ὄγκοι, 338 _n._ 794, 368 _n._ 894, 387 _n._ 939
 ὁλκάς, 341 _n._ 805
 ὁμοιομερῆ, 306
 ὅμοιος, ὁμοιότης, 72 _n._ 138
 ὄργια, 88 _n._ 175
 ὅρος, 115 _n._ 240
 οὐρανός, 31, 140 _n._ 310;
   Aristotle’s πρῶτος οὐρανός, 177

 πάγος, 273 _n._ 603
 παλιγγενεσία, 101 _n._ 212
 παλίντονος, 150 _n._ 184
 παλίντροπος, 150 _n._ 347, 198 _n._ 438
 πανσπερμία, 307, 389
 περιαγωγή, 63 _n._ 119
 περιέχω, 60 _n._ 114, 170 _n._ 389
 περίστασις, 63 _n._ 119
 πίλησις, 77 _n._ 151
 πόροι, 224, 226 _n._ 500, 236, 269, 284 sq., 383
 πρηστήρ, 69 _n._ 133, 165
 πυραμίς, 25 _n._ 38

 ῥαψῳδῶ, 127 _n._ 276
 ῥοπή, 398

 σῆμα σῶμα, 321
 στασιῶται, 140 _n._ 307
 στέφαναι, 215
 στοιχεῖον, 54 _n._ 101, 56 _n._ 103, 263 _n._ 586, 265 _n._ 586, 306,
    333, 388 _n._ 942
 συνοικειῶ, 157 _n._ 370

 τετρακτύς, 113 sq.
 τροπαί, 67 _n._ 129, 174

 ὕλη, 57, 330 _n._ 770, 342 _n._ 807
 ὑπόθεσις, 33 _n._ 46, 360 _n._ 866, 361 _n._ 871
 ὑποτείνουσα, 116 _n._ 242

 φαινόμενα, σῴζειν τὰ, 33 _n._ 46
 φιλοσοφία, φιλόσοφος, φιλοσοφῶ, 28.
   _See_ Philosophy
 φύσις, 12 sq., 56, 388 _n._ 941 and _n._ 944

 χώρα, 114 _n._ 238, 115 _n._ 240

           _Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

                           Transcriber’s Note

When Burnet gives the fragments of a Greek philosopher, he does so
selectively, resulting in gaps in the sequence.

Some quoted and translated passages, printed as prose, also include line
numbers in the right margin. These now appear in the text delimited by
<< >> at the place in the text where they originally appeared. These
numbers should be regarded as approximate.

In note 813, the Greek phrase includes an unmatched closing bracket.
This is a direct quotation from p. 234 of _Scholia in Lucianum_, edited
by Hugo Rabe. The bracket was used by Rabe to separate the topic (the
pentagram) from its gloss.

Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and
are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.

  75.13    according to Theophra[s]tos                    Added.

  197.21   Look stea[fd/df]astly with thy mind            Transposed.

  212.26   It seem[s] to me                               Added.

  213.18   and Theoph[astros/rastos]certainly followed    Misplaced.
           him

  249.21   meadows of Aph[h]rodite                        Removed.

  292.34   διήκουσε)[”]                                   Added.

  331.19   Aristotle on the Number[s].                    Added.

  332.32   τὰ γοῦν θεωρήματα πρ[ό/ο]σάπτουσι              Replaced.

  402      οἱ μὲν ἄλλοι φύσει τὰ αἰσθητ[α/ά]              Replaced.

  415.6    Anaxagorea[ns]                                 Presumed.

  433.5    παλίντροπ[ὸ/ο]ς                                Replaced.