No More Learning

Memenius is the only writer who asserts that he used to deliver positive dogmas.

VII. He had many eminent disciples, and among them Eurylochus, of whom the following defective characteristic, is related; for, they say, that he was once worked up to such a pitch of rage that he took up a spit with the meat on it, and chased the cook as far as the market-place. And once in Elis he was so harassed by some people who put questions to him in the middle of his discourses, that he threw down his cloak and swam across the Alpheus. He was the greatest possible enemy to the Sophists, as Timon tells us. But Philo, on the contrary, was very fond of arguing; on which account Timon speaks of him thus:

Avoiding men to study all devoted,
He ponders with himself, and never heeds
The glory or disputes which harass Philo.
Besides these disciples, Pyrrho also had Hecateus of Abdera, and Timon the Phliasian, who wrote the Silli, and whom we shall speak of hereafter; and also Nausiphanes, of Teos, who, as some say, was the master of Epianus.

VIII. All these men were called Pyrrhoneans from their master; and also doubters, and sceptics, and ephectics, or suspenders of their judgment, and investigators, from their principles. And their philosophy was called investigatory, from their investigating or seeking the truth on all sides; and sceptical from their being always doubting (skeptomai) and never finding; and ephectic, from the disposition which they encouraged after investigation, I mean the suspending of their judgment (epoche); and doubting, because they asserted that the dogmatic philosophers only doubted, and that they did the same. [And they were called Pyrrhoneans from Pyrrho himself. ]

But Theodosius, in his Chapters on Scepticism, contends, that we ought not to call the Pyrrhonean school sceptical; for since, says he, the motion and agitation of the mind in each individual is incomprehensible to others, we are unable to know what was the disposition of Pyrrho; and if we do not know it we ought not to be called Pyrrhoneans. He also adds that Pyrrho was not the original inventor of Scepticism, and that he had no particular dogma of any kind; and that, consequently, it can only be called Pyrrhonism from some similarity. Some say that Homer was the original founder of this school; since he at different times gives different accounts of the same circumstance, as much as any one else ever did; and since he never dogmatizes definitively respecting affirmation; they also say that the maxims of the seven wise men were sceptical; such as that, "Seek nothing in excess," and that, "Suretyship is near calamity;" which shows that calamity follows a man who has given positive and certain surety; they also argue that Archilochus and Euripides were Sceptics; and Archilochus speaks thus:

And now, O Glaucus, son of Leptines,
Such is the mind of mortal man, which changes
With every day that Jupiter doth send.
And Euripides says:

Why then do men assert that wretched mortals
Are with true wisdom gifted; for on you
We all depend; and we do everything
Which pleases you.
Moreover, Xenophanes, and Zeno the Eleatic, and Democritus were also Sceptics; of whom Xenophanes speaks thus:

And no man knows distinctly anything,
And no man ever will.
And Zeno endeavours to put an end to the doctrine of motion by saying: "The object moved does not move either in the place in which it is, or in that in which it is not. " Democritus, too, discards the qualities, where he says: what is cold is cold in opinion, and what is hot is hot in opinion; but atoms and the vacuum exist in reality. And again he says: "But we know nothing really; for truth lies in the bottom. " Plato, too, following them, attributes the knowledge of the truth to the Gods and to the sons of the Gods, and leaves men only the investigation of probability. And Euripides says:

Who now can tell whether to live may not
Be properly to die. And whether that
Which men do call to die, may not in truth
Be but the entrance into real life?
And Empedocles speaks thus:

These things are not perceptible to sight,
Nor to the ears nor comprehensible
To human intellect.
And in a preceding passage he says:

Believing nothing, but such circumstances
As have befallen each.
Heraclitus, too, says, "Let us not form conjectures at random, about things of the greatest importance. " And Hippocrates delivers his opinion in a very doubtful manner, such as becomes a man; and before them all Homer has said:

Long in the field of words we may contend,
Reproach is infinite and knows no end.
And immediately after

Armed, or with truth or falsehood, right or wrong.
(So voluble a weapon is the tongue),
Wounded we wound, and neither side can fail,
For every man has equal strength to rail. 3
Intimating the equal vigour and antithetical force of words. And the Sceptics persevered in overthrowing all the dogmas of every sect, while they themselves asserted nothing dogmatically; and contented themselves with expressing the opinions of others, without affirming anything themselves, not even that they did affirm nothing; so that even discarded all positive denial; for to say, "We affirm nothing," was to affirm something. "But we," said they, "enunciate the doctrines of others, to prove our own perfect indifference; it is just as if we were to express the same thing by a simple sign. " So these words, "We affrm nothing," indicate the absence of all affirmation, just as other propositions, such as, "Not more one thing than another," or, "Every reason has a corresponding reason opposed to it," and all such maxims indicate a similar idea. But the phrase, "Not more one thing," &c. , has sometimes an affirmative sense, indicating the equality of certain things, as for instance, in this sentence, "A pirate is not worse than a liar. " But by the sceptics this is said not positively, but negatively, as for instance, where the speaker contests a point and says, "It was not Scylla, any more than it was Chimaera. And the word "more," itself, is sometimes used to indicate a comparison, as when we say, "That honey is more sweet than grapes. " And at other times it is used positively, and at the same time negatively, as when we say, "Virtue profits us more than hurts us;" for in this phrase we intimate that virtue does profit, and does not hurt us. But the Sceptics abolish the whole expression, "Not more than it;" saying, that "Prudence has not existence, any more than it has no existence. " Accordingly, then, expression, as Timon says in his Python, indicates nothing more than an absence of all affirmation, or of all assent of the judgment.

Also the expression, "Every reason has a corresponding reason," &c. , does in the same manner indicate the suspension of the judgment; for if, while the facts are different, the expressions are equipollent, it follows that a man must be quite ignorant of the real truth.

Besides this, to this assertion there is a contrary assertion opposed, which, after having destroyed all others, turns itself against itself, and destroys itself, resembling, as it were, those cathartic medicines which, after they have cleansed the stomach, then discharge themselves and are got rid of. And so the dogmatic philosophers say, that all these reasonings are so far from overturning the authority of reason that they confirm it. To this the Sceptics reply, that they only employ reason as an instrument, because it is impossible to overturn the authority of reason, without employing reason; just as if we assert that there is no such thing as space, we must employ the word "space," but that not dogmatically, but demonstratively; and if we assert that nothing exists according to necessity, it is unavoidable that we must use the word "necessity. " The same principle of interpretation did they adopt; for they affirmed that facts are not by nature such as they appear to be, but that they only seem such; and they said, that what they doubt is not what they think, for their thoughts are evident to themselves, but the reality of the things which are only made known to them by their sensations.

The Pyrrhonean system, then, is a simple explanation of appearances, or of notions of every kind, by means of which, comparing one thing with another, one arrives at the conclusion, that there is nothing in all these notions, but contradiction and confusion; as Aenesidemus says in his Introduction to Pyrrhonism. As to the contradictions which are found in those speculations, when they have pointed out in what way each fact is convincing, they then, by the same means, take away all belief from it; for they say that we regard as certain, those things which always produce similar impressions on the senses, those which are the offspring of habit, or which are established by the laws, and those too which give pleasure or excite wonder. And they prove that the reasons opposite to those on which our assent is founded are entitled to equal belief.

IX. The difficulties which they suggest, relating to the agreement subsisting between what appears to the senses, and what is comprehended by the intellect, divide themselves into ten modes of argument, according to which the subject and object of our knowledge is incessantly changing. And these ten modes Phyrrho lays down in the following manner.

The first relates to the difference which one remarks between the sentiments of animals in respect of pleasure, and pain, and what is injurious, and what is advantageous; and from this we conclude, that the same objects do not always produce the same impressions; and that the fact of this difference ought to be a reason with us for suspending our judgment. For there are some animals which are produced without any sexual connexion, as those which live in the fire, and the Arabian Phoenix, and worms. Others again are engendered by copulation, as men and others of that kind; and some are composed in one way, and others in another; on which account they also differ in their senses, as for instance, hawks are very keen-sighted; dogs have a most acute scent. It is plain, therefore, that the things seen produce different impressions on those animals which differ in their power of sight. So, too, young branches are eagerly eaten by the goat, but are bitter to mankind; and hemlock is nutritious for the quail, but, deadly to man; and pigs eat their own dung, but a horse does not.

The second mode refers to the nature and idiosyncracies of men. According to Demophon, the steward of Alexander used to feel warm in the shade, and to shiver in the sun. And Andron, the Argive, as Aristotle tells us, travelled through the dry parts of Libya, without once drinking. Again, one man is fond of medicine, another of farming, another of commerce; and the same pursuits are good for one man, and injurious to another; on which account, we ought to suspend our opinions.

The third mode, is that which has for its object the difference of the organs of sense. Accordingly, an apple presents itself to the sight as yellow, to the taste as sweet, to the smell as fragrant; and the same form is seen, in very different lights, according to the differences of mirrors. It follows, therefore, that what is seen is just as likely to be something else as the reality.

The fourth refers to the dispositions of the subject, and the changes in general to which it is liable. Such as health, sickness, sleep, waking, joy, grief, youth, old age, courage, fear, want, abundance, hatred, friendship, warmth, cold, easiness of breathing, oppression of the respiratory organs, and so on. The objects, therefore, appear different to us according to the disposition of the moment; for, even madmen are not in a state contrary to nature. For, why are we to say that of them more than of ourselves? For we too look at the sun as if it stood still. Theon, of Tithora, the Stoic, used to walk about in his sleep; and a slave of Pericles' used, when in the same state, to walk on the top of the house.

The fifth mode is conversant with laws, and established customs, and belief in mythical traditions, and the conventions of art, and dogmatical opinions. This mode embraces all that relates to vice, and to honesty; to the true, and to the false; to the good, and to the bad; to the Gods, and to the production, and destruction of all visible objects. Accordingly, the same action is just in the case of some people, and unjust in that of others. And good in the case of some, and bad in that of others. On this principle we see that the Persians do not think it unnatural for a man to marry his daughter; but among the Greeks it is unlawful. Again, the Massagetae, as Eudoxus tells us in the first book of his Travels over the World, have their women in common; but the Greeks do not. And the Cilicians delight in piracy, but the Greeks avoid it. So again, different nations worship different Gods; and some believe in the providence of God, and others do not. The Egyptians embalm their dead, and then bury them; the Romans burn them; the Paeonians throw them into the lakes. All these considerations show that we ought to suspend our judgment.

The sixth mode has reference to the promiscuousness and confusion of objects; according to which nothing is seen by us simply and by itself; but in combination either with air, or with light, or with moisture, or with solidity, or heat, or cold, or motion, or evaporation or some other power. Accordingly, purple exhibits a different hue in the sun, and in the moon, and in a lamp. And our own complexions appear different when seen at noonday and at sunset. And a stone which one cannot lift in the air, is easily displaced in the water, either because it is heavy itself and is made light by the water, or because it is light in itself and is made heavy by the air. So that we cannot positively know the peculiar qualities of anything, just as we cannot discover oil in ointment.

The seventh mode has reference to distances, and position, and space, and to the objects which are in space. In this mode one establishes the fact that objects which we believe to be large, sometimes appear small; that those which we believe to be square, sometimes appear round; that those which we fancy even, appear full of projections; those which we think straight, seem bent; and those which we believe to be colourless, appear of quite a different complexion. Accordingly, the sun, on account of its distance from us, appears small. The mountains too at a distance,4 appear airy masses and smooth, but when beheld close, they are rough. Again, the sun has one appearance at his rise, and quite a different one at midday. And the same body looks very different in a wood from what it does on plain ground. So too, the appearance of an object changes according to its position as regards us; for instance, the neck of a dove varies as it turns. Since then, it is impossible to view these things irrespectively of place and position, it is clear that their real nature is not known.

The eighth mode has respect to the magnitudes or quantities of things; or to the heat or coldness, or to the speed or slowness, or to the paleness or variety of colour of the subject. For instance, a moderate quantity of wine when taken invigorates, but an excessive quantity weakens. And the same is the case with food, and other similar things.

The ninth depends upon the frequency, or rarity, or strangeness of the thing under consideration. For instance, earthquakes excite no wonder among those nations with whom they are of frequent occurrence; nor does the sun, because he is seen every day.

The ninth mode is called by Favorinus, the eighth, and by Sextus and Aenesidemus, the tenth; and Sextus calls the tenth the eighth, which Favorinus reckons the tenth as the ninth in order.

The tenth mode refers to the comparison between one thing and another; as, for instance, between what is light and what is heavy; between what is strong and what is weak; between what is greater and what is less; what is above and what is below. For instance, that which is on the right, is not on the right intrinsically and by nature, but it is looked upon as such in consequence of its relation to something else; and if that other thing be transposed, then it will no longer be on the right. In the same way, a man is spoken of as a father, or brother, or relation to some one else; and day is called so in relation to the sun; and everything has its distinctive name in relation to human thought: therefore, those things which are known in relation to others, are unknown of themselves.

And these are the ten modes.

X. But Agrippa adds five other modes to them. One derived from the disagreement of opinions; another from the necessity of proceeding ad infinitum from one reasoning to another; a third from relation; a fourth from hypothesis; and the last from the reciprocal nature of proofs.

That which refers to the disagreement of opinions, shows that all the questions which philosophers propose to themselves, or which people in general discuss, are full of uncertainty and contradiction.

That which is derived from the necessity of proceeding incessantly from one reasoning to another, demonstrates that it is impossible for a man ever, in his researches, to arrive at undeniable truth; since one truth is only to be established by another truth; and so on, ad infinitum.

The mode which is derived from relation rests on the doctrine that no object is ever perceived independently and entirely by itself, but always in its relation to something else; so that it is impossible to know its nature correctly.

That which depends on hypothesis is directed against those arguers who pretend that it is necessary to accept the principles of things taken absolutely, and that one must place one's faith in them without any examination, which is an absurdity; for one may just as well lay down the opposite principles.

The fifth mode, that one namely which arises from the reciprocal nature of proofs, is capable of application whenever the proof of the truth which we are looking for supposes, as a necessary preliminary, our belief in that truth; for instance, if, after we have proved the porosity of bodies by their evaporations, we return and prove the evaporations by the porosity.

XI. These Sceptics then deny the existence of any demonstration, of any test of truth, of any signs, or causes, or motion, or learning, and of anything as intrinsically or naturally good or bad. For every demonstration, say they, depends either on things which demonstrate themselves, or on principles which are indemonstrable. If on things which demonstrate themselves, then these things themselves require demonstration; and so on ad infinitum. If on principles which are indemonstrable, then, the very moment that either the sum total of these principles or even one single one of them, is incorrectly urged, the whole demonstration falls instantly to pieces. But if any one supposes, they add, that there are principles which require no demonstration, that man deceives himself strangely, not seeing that it is necessary for him in the first place to establish this point, that they contain their proof in themselves. For a man cannot prove that there are four elements, because there are four elements.

Besides, if particular proofs are denied in a complex demonstration, it must follow that the whole demonstration is also incorrect. Again, if we are to know that an argument is really a demonstrative proof, we must have a test of truth; and in order to establish a test, we require a demonstrative proof; and these two things must be devoid of every kind of certainty, since they bear reciprocally the one on the other.

How then is any one to arrive at certainty about obscure matters, if one is ignorant even how one ought to attempt to prove them? For what one is desirous to understand is not what the appearance of things is, but what their nature and essence is.

They show, too, that the dogmatic philosophers act with great simplicity; for that the conclusions which they draw from their hypothetical principles, are not scientific truths but mere suppositions; and that, in the same manner, one might establish the most improbable propositions. They also say that those who pretend that one ought not to judge of things by the circumstances which surround them, or by their accessories, but that one ought to take their nature itself as one's guide, do not perceive that, while they pretend to give the precise measure and definition of everything, if the objects present such and such an appearance, that depends solely on their position and relative arrangement. They conclude from thence, that it is necessary to say that everything is true, or that everything is false. For if certain things only are true, how is one to recognize them. Evidently it will not be the senses which judge in that case of the objects of sensation, for all appearances are equal to the senses; nor will it be the intellect, for the same reason. But besides these two faculties, there does not appear to be any other test or criterion at all: So, say they, if we desire to arrive at any certainty with respect to any object which comes under either sense or intellect, we must first establish those opinions which are laid down previously as bearing on those objects. For some people have denied this doctrine, and others have overturned that; it is therefore indispensable that they should be judged of either by the senses or by the intellect. And the authority of each of these faculties is contested; it is therefore impossible to form a positive judgment of the operations of the senses and of the intellect; and if the contest between the different opinions, compels us to a neutrality, then the measure which appeared proper to apply, to the appreciation of all those objects is at the same time put an end to, and one must fix a similar valuation on everything.

Perhaps our opponent will, say, "Are then appearances trustworthy or deceitful? "5

We answer that, if they are trustworthy, the other side has nothing to object to those to whom the contrary appearance presents itself. For, as he who says that such and such a thing appears to him is trustworthy, so also is he who says that the contrary appears to him. And if appearances are deceitful, then they do not deserve any confidence when they assert what appears to them to be true. We are not bound then to believe that a thing is true, merely because it obtains assent. For all men do not yield to the same reasons; and even the same individual does not always see things in the same light. Persuasion often depends on external circumstances, on the authority of the speaker, on his ability, on the elegance of his language, on habit, or even on pleasure.

They also, by this train of reasoning, suppress the criterion of truth. Either the criterion has been decided on, or it has not. And if it has not, it does not deserve any confidence, and it cannot be of any use at all in aiding us to discern truth from falsehood. If, on the other hand, it has been decided on, it then enters into the class of particular things which require a criterion, and in that case to judge and to be judged amount to the same thing; the criterion which judges is itself judged of by something else, that again by a third criterion, and so on ad infinitum. Add to this, say they, the fact that people are not even agreed as to the nature of the criterion of truth; some say that man is the criterion, others that it is the senses which are so; one set places reason in the van, another class rely upon cataleptic perception.

As to man himself, he disagrees both with himself and with others, as the diversity of laws and customs proves. The senses are deceivers, and reason disagrees with itself. Cataleptic perception is judged of by the intellect, and the intellect changes in various manners; accordingly, we can never find any positive criterion, and in consequence, truth itself wholly eludes our search.

They also affirm that there are no such things as signs; for if there are signs, they argue they must be such as are apprehended either by the senses or by the intellect. Now, there are none which are apprehended by the senses, for everything which is apprehended by the senses is general, while a sign is something particular. Moreover, any object which is apprehended by the senses has an existence of its own, while signs are only relative. Again, signs are not apprehended by the intellect, for in that case they would be either the visible manifestation of a visible thing, or the invisible manifestation of an invisible thing, or the invisible sign of a visible thing; or the visible sign of an invisible thing. But none of all these cases are possible; there are therefore no such things as signs at all.

There is therefore no such thing as a visible sign of a visible thing, for that which is visible has no need of a sign. Nor, again, is there any invisible sign of an invisible thing; for when anything is manifested by means of another thing, it must become visible. On the same principle there is no invisible sign of a visible object; for that which aids in the perception of something else must be visible. Lastly, there is no visible manifestation of an invisible thing; for as a sign is something wholly relative, it must be perceived in that of which it is the sign; and that is not the case. It follows, therefore, that none of those things which are not visible in themselves admit of being perceived; for one considers signs as things which aid in the perception of that which is not evident by itself.

They also wholly discard, and, as far as depends on them, overturn the idea of any cause, by means of this same train of reasoning. Cause is something relative. It is relative to that of which it is the cause. But that which is relative is only conceived, and has no real existence. The idea of a cause then is a pure conception; for, inasmuch as it is a cause, it must be a cause of something; otherwise it would be no cause at all. In the same way as a father cannot be a father, unless there exists some being in respect of whom one gives him the title of father; so too a cause stands on the same ground. For, supposing that nothing exists relatively to which a cause can be spoken of; then, as there is no production, or destruction, or anything of that sort, there can likewise be no cause. However, let us admit that there are such things as causes. In that case then, either a body must be the cause of a body, or that which is incorporeal must be the cause of that which is incorporeal. Now, neither of these cases is possible; therefore, there is no such thing as cause. In fact, one body cannot be the cause of another body, since both bodies must have the same nature; and if it be said that one is the cause, inasmuch as it is a body, then the other must be a cause for the same reason. And in that case one would have two reciprocal causes; two agents without any passive subject.

Again, one incorporeal thing cannot be the cause of another incorporeal thing for the same reason. Also, an incorporeal thing cannot be the cause of a body, because nothing that is incorporeal can produce a body. Nor, on the other hand, can a body be the cause of anything incorporeal, because in every production there must be some passive subject matter; but, as what is incorporeal is by its own nature protected from being a passive subject, it cannot be the object of any productive power. There is, therefore, no such thing as any cause at all. From all which it follows, that the first principles of all things have no reality; for such a principle, if it did exist, must be both the agent and the efficient cause.

Again, there is no such thing as motion. For whatever is moved, is moved either in the place in which it is, or in that in which it is not. It certainly is not moved in the place in which it is, and it is impossible that it should be moved in the place in which it is not; therefore, there is no such thing as motion at all.

They also denied the existence of all learning. If, said they, anything is taught, then either that which does exist is taught in its existence or that which does not exist is taught in its non-existence; but that which does exist is not taught in its existence (for the nature of all existent things is visible to all men, and is known by all men); nor is that which does not exist, taught in its non-existence, for nothing can happen to that which does not exist, so that to be taught cannot happen to it.

Nor again, say they, is there any such thing as production. For that which is, is not produced, for it exists already; nor that which is not, for that does not exist at all. And that which has no being nor existence at all, cannot be produced.

Another of their doctrines is, that there is no such thing as any natural good, or natural evil. For if there be any natural good, or natural evil, then it must be good to everyone, or evil to everyone; just as snow is cold to everyone. But there is no such thing as one general good or evil which is common to all beings; therefore, there is no such thing as any natural good, or natural evil. For either one must pronounce everything good which is thought so by anyone whatever, or one must say that it does not follow that everything which is thought good is good. Now, we cannot say that everything which is thought good is good, since the same thing is thought good by one person (as, for instance, pleasure is thought good by Epicurus) and evil by another (as it is thought evil by Antisthenes); and on this principle the same thing will be both good and evil. If, again, we assert that it does not follow that everything which is thought good is good, then we must distinguish between the different opinions; which it is not possible to do by reason of the equality of the reasons adduced in support of them. It follows that we cannot recognize anything as good by nature.

And we may also take a view of the whole of their system by the writings which some of them have left behind them. Pyrrho himself has left nothing; but his friends Timon, and Aenesidemus, and Numenius, and Nausiphanes, and others of that class have left books. And the dogmatical philosophers arguing against them, say that they also adopt spurious and pronounce positive dogmas. For where they think that they are refuting others they are convicted, for in the very act of refutation, they assert positively and dogmatize. For when they say that they define nothing, and that every argument has an opposite argument; they do here give a positive definition, and assert a positive dogma. But they reply to these objectors; as to the things which happen to us as men, we admit the truth of what you say; for we certainly do know that it is day, and that we are alive; and we admit that we know many other of the phaenomena of life. But with respect to those things as to which the dogmatic philosophers make positive assertions, saying that they are comprehended, we suspend our judgment on the ground of their being uncertain; and we know nothing but the passions; for we confess that we see, and we are aware that we comprehend that such a thing is the fact; but we do not know how we see, or how we comprehend. Also, we state in the way of narrative, that this appears white, without asserting positively that it really is so. And with respect to the assertion, "We define nothing," and other sentences of that sort, we do not pronounce them as dogmas. For to say that is a different kind of statement from saying that the world is spherical; for the one fact is not evident, while the other statements are mere admissions.

While, therefore, we say that we define nothing, we do not even say that as a definition.

Again, the dogmatic philosophers say that the Sceptics overthrow all life, when they deny everything of which life consists. But the Sceptics say that they are mistaken; for they do not deny that they see, but that they do not know how it is that they see. For, say they, we assert what is actually the fact, but we do not describe its character.
Again, we feel that fire burns, but we suspend our judgment as to whether it has a burning nature. Also we see whether a person moves, and that a man dies; but how these things happen we know not. Therefore, say they, we only resist the uncertain deductions which are put by the side of evident facts. For when we say that an image has projections, we only state plainly what is evident; but when we say that it has not projections, we no longer say what appears evident, but something else. On which account Timon, in his Python, says that Pyrrho does not destroy the authority of custom. And in his Images he speaks thus:

But what is evidently seen prevails,
Wherever it may be.
And in his treatise on the Senses, he says, "The reason why a thing is sweet I do not declare, but I confess that the fact of sweetness is evident. " So too, Aenesidemus, in the first book of his Pyrrhonean Discourses, says that Pyrrho defines nothing dogmatically, on account of the possibility of contradiction, but that he is guided by what is evident. And he says the same thing in his book against Wisdom, and in his treatise on Investigation.

In like manner, Zeuxis, a friend of Aenesidemus, in his treatise on Twofold Arguments, and Antiochus, of Laodicea, and Apellas, in his Agrippa, all declare nothing beyond what is evident. The criterion therefore, among the Sceptics, is that which is evident; as Aenesidemus also says; and Epicurus says the same thing.

But Democritus says, that there is no test whatever of appearances, and also that they are not criteria of truth. Moreover, the dogmatic philosophers attack the criterion derived from appearances, and say that the same objects present at times different appearances; so that a town presents at one time a square, and at another a round appearance; and that consequently, if the Sceptic does not discriminate between different appearances, he does nothing at all. If, on the contrary, he determines in favour of either, then, say they, he no longer attaches equal value to all appearances. The Sceptics reply to this, that in the presence of different appearances, they content themselves with saying that there are many appearances, and that it is precisely because things present themselves under different characters, that they affirm the existence of appearances.

Lastly, the Sceptics say, that the chief good is the suspension of the judgment which tranquillity of mind follows, like its shadow, as Timon and Aenesidemus say; for that we need not choose these things, or avoid those which all depend on ourselves: but as to those things which do not depend upon us, but upon necessity, such as hunger, thirst, and pain, those we cannot avoid; for it is not possible to put an end to them by reason.

But when the dogmatic philosophers object that the Sceptic, on his principles, will not refuse to kill his own father, if he is ordered to do so; so that they answer, that they can live very well without disquieting themselves about the speculations of the dogmatic philosophers; but, suspending their judgment in all matters which do not refer to living and the preservation of life. Accordingly, say they, we avoid some things, and we seek others, following custom in that; and we obey the laws.

Some authors have asserted, that the chief good of the Stoics is impassability; others say that it is mildness and tranquillity.

1. Il. vi. 146.

2. Il. xxi. 106. Pope's version, 115.

3. Homer, Il. xx. , 248. Pope's version, 294.

4. There is too remarkable a similarity in this to Campbell's lines:

'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountains in their azure hue;
to allow one to pass it over without pointing it out.

5. "Diogenes here, appears (though he gives no intimation of his doing so,) to be transcribing the reasonings of some one of the Sceptics. " French Transl.






THE LIVES AND OPINIONS OF EMINENT PHILOSOPHERS
BY DIOGENES LAERTIUS, TRANSLATED BY C. D. YONGE
LIFE OF TIMON


I. APOLLONIDES, of Nicaea a philosopher of our school, in the first book of his Commentaries on the Silli, which he dedicated to Tiberius Caesar, says that Timon was the son of Timarchus, and a Phliasian by birth. And then, when he was young, he studied dancing, and afterwards he renounced that study, and went to Megara to Stilpo. And having spent some time there, he returned home again and married. Then he came with his wife to Elis, to see Pyrrho, and there he remained while his children were born; the elder of whom, he called Xanthus, and taught him medicine, and left him his successor in his sect of philosophy. And he was a man of considerable eminence, as Sotion tells us in his eleventh book. Afterwards, being in difficulty as to his means, he departed to the Hellespont and the Propontis; and living at Chalcedon as a Sophist, he earned a very high reputation and great popularity; from thence he departed, after having made a considerable fortune, and went to Athens, and remained there till his death, going across once for a short time to Thebes. He was also acquainted with king Antigonus, and with Ptolemy Philadelphus, as he himself testifies in his Iambics.

II. He was, says Antigonus, fond of drinking, and he at times occupied himself with works quite inconsistent with philosophy; for he wrote lyric and epic poems, and tragedies and satiric dramas, and thirty comedies, and sixty tragedies and Silli and amatory poems.

There are works of his also enumerated in a regular catalogue, extending to twenty thousand verses, which are mentioned by Antigonus, of Carystos, who also wrote his life. Of the Silli, there are three volumes; in which he attacks every one as if he were a Sceptic, and especially he lampoons the dogmatic philosophers under the form of parodies. The first volume of these Silli contain a long uninterrupted narration; but the second and third are in the form of dialogues. He is represented in them, as interrogating Xenophanes, the Colophonian, about every thing, and he utters a long continued discourse; in his second book he speaks of the more ancient philosophers; and in his third of the more modern ones; on which account some people have given the last book the name of the epilogue.

But the first book contains the same subjects, with this difference, that in that it is all confined to one single person; and its first line begins thus:

Come hither, all you over-busy Sophists.
III. He died when he was nearly ninety years old, as Antigonus tells us; and Sotion, in his eleventh book, makes the same statement. I have heard it said that he had only one eye, and, indeed, he used to call himself Cyclops.

IV. There was also another Timon, the misanthrope.

V. Now this philosopher was very fond of a garden, and also of solitude, as we are told by Antigonus. Accordingly it is reported, that Hieronymus, the Peripatetic, said of him, as among the Scythians, both they who fly, and they who pursue shoot with the bow, so in the case of the philosophers, those who pursue and those who fly both hunt for pupils, as Timon for instance.

VI. He was a man of very acute perceptions, and very quick at seeing the ridiculous side of any question: he was also very fond of learning, and a very clever man at devising plots for poets, and at composing dramas. And he used to associate with himself, in the composition of his tragedies, two other poets, named Alexander and Homer; and whenever he was disturbed by his maid-servants or by the dogs, he paid no attention to them, studying above all things to live in tranquillity. They tell a story, that Aratus asked him how he could procure an entire and correct copy of Homer's poetry, and he answered, "If he could fall in with an old manuscript which had never been corrected. " And all his works used to lie about at random, and at times half eaten by mice; so that once when he was reading them to Zopyrus, the orator, and unrolling a volume, he read whatever passages came first, and when he got to the middle of the book he found a great gap, which he had not previously perceived, so very indifferent was he about such matters.

His constitution was so vigorous, that he could easily go without his dinner. And they say, that once when he saw Arcesilaus passing through the forum of the Cercipes, he said, "What are you doing here, where we freemen are? " And he used constantly to quote to those who invoked the testimony of their intellects to judge of the senses:

Attagas and Numenius are met. 1
And this jesting manner was habitual with him. Accordingly he once said to a man, who was surprised at everything, "Why do you not wonder that we three men have only four eyes between us? " for he himself had only one eye, no more had Dioscorides, his pupil; but the man to whom he was speaking had his sight unimpaired. On another occasion, he was asked by Arcesilaus, why he had come from Thebes, and he said, "To laugh at you all when I see you face to face. " But though he attacked Arcesilaus in his Silli, he has praised him in the book entitled the Funeral Banquet of Arcesilaus.

VII. He had no successor, as Menodotus tells us; but his school ceased, till Ptolemy the Cyrenean re-established it. According to the account given to us by Hippobotus and Sotion, he had as pupils, Dioscorides of Cyprus, and Nilolochus of Rhodes, and Euphranor of Seleucia, and Pracylus of the Troas, who was a man of such constancy of mind that, as Phylarchus relates in his History, he allowed himself to be punished as a traitor wholly undeservedly, not uttering one word of complaint against his fellow citizens; and Euphranor had for his pupil, Eubulus, of Alexandria, who was the master of Ptolemy, who was the master of Sarpedon and Heraclides. And Heraclides was the master of Aenesidemus, of Cnossus, who wrote eight books of Pyrrhonean discourses; he was also the master of Xeuxippus Polites, who was the master of Zeuxis Gonicpus, who was the master of Antiochus, of Laodicea, in Lycia. Antiochus again, was the master of Menodotus, of Nicomedia, a skilful physician, and of Theodos, of Laodicea; and Menodotus was the master of Herodotus, of Tarsus, the son of Arieus; Herodotus was the master of Sextus Empiricus, who left ten books of Sceptic Maxims, and other excellent works; and Sextus was the master of Saturninus Cythenas, who was also an empiric.

1. That is to say, the harmony between intellect and the senses will not last long. Attagas and Numenius were two notorious brigands.

























[1] {1} Zenon was the son of Mnaseas, or Demeas, and a native of Citium, in Cyprus, which is a Greek city, partly occupied by a Phoenician colony.

{2} He had his head naturally bent on one side, as Timotheus, the Athenian, tells us, in his work on Lives. And Apollonius, the Tyrian, says that he was thin, very tall, of a dark complexion; in reference to which some one once called him an Egyptian clematis, as Chrysippus relates in the first volume of his Proverbs: he had fat, flabby, weak legs, on which account Persaeus, in his Convivial Reminiscences, says that he used to refuse many invitations to supper; and he was very fond, as it is said, of figs both fresh and dried in the sun.

[2] {3} He was a pupil, as has been already stated, of Crates. After that, they say that he became a pupil of Stilpon and of Xenocrates, for ten years, as Timocrates relates in his Life of Dion. He is also said to have been a pupil of Polemon. But Hecaton, and Apollonius of Tyre, in the first book of his essay on Zenon, say that when he consulted the oracle, as to what he ought to do to live in the most excellent manner, the God answered him that he ought to become of the same complexion as the dead, on which he inferred that he ought to apply himself to the reading of the books of the ancients. Accordingly, he attached himself to Crates in the following manner. Having purchased a quantity of purple from Phoenicia, he was shipwrecked close to the Peiraeus; and when he had made his way from the coast as far as Athens, he sat down by a bookseller's stall, being now about thirty years of age. And as he took up the second book of Xenophon's Memorabilia and began to read it, he was delighted with it, and asked where such men as were described in that book lived; [3] and as Crates happened very seasonably to pass at the moment, the book-seller pointed him out, and said, "Follow that man. " From that time forth he became a pupil of Crates; but though he was in other respects very energetic in his application to philosophy, still he was too modest for the shamelessness of the Cynics. On which account, Crates, wishing to cure him of this false shame, gave him a jar of lentil porridge to carry through the Cerameicus; and when he saw that he was ashamed, and that he endeavoured to hide it, he struck the jar with his staff, and broke it; and, as Zenon fled away, and the lentil porridge ran all down his legs, Crates called after him, "Why do you run away, my little Phoenician, you have done no harm? " {4} For some time then he continued a pupil of Crates, and when he wrote his treatise entitled the Republic, some said, jokingly, that he had written it upon the tail of the dog.

{4} And besides his Republic, he was the author also of the following works:

a treatise on a Life according to Nature;
one on Appetite, or the Nature of Man;
one on Passions;
one on Duty;
one on Law;
one on the usual Education of the Greeks;
one on Sight;
one on the Whole;
one on Signs;
one on the Doctrines of the Pythagoreans;
one on Things in General;
one on Styles;
five essays on Problems relating to Homer;
one on the Listening to Poets.
He also wrote:
an essay on Art;
and Solutions;
and two books of Refutations;
Reminiscences of Crates;
Ethics.
These are the books of which he was the author.
{5} But at last he left Crates, and became the pupil of the philosophers whom I have mentioned before, and continued with them for twenty years. So that it is related that be said, "I now find that I made a prosperous voyage when I was wrecked. " But some affirm that he made this speech in reference to Crates. [5] Others say, that while he was staying at Athens he heard of a shipwreck, and said, "Fortune does well in having driven us on philosophy. " But as some relate the affair, he was not wrecked at all, but sold all his cargo at Athens, and then turned to philosophy.

{6} And he used to walk up and down in the beautiful colonnade which is called the Peisianactian, and which is also called poikil? , from the paintings of Polygnotus, and there he delivered his discourses, wishing to make that spot tranquil; for in the time of the thirty, nearly fourteen hundred of the citizens had been murdered there by them.

{7} Accordingly, for the future, men came thither to hear him, and from this his pupils were called Stoics, and so were his successors also, who had been at first called Zenonians, as Epicurus tells us in his Epistles. And before this time, the poets who frequented this colonnade (stoa) had been called Stoics, as we are informed by Eratosthenes, in the eighth book of his treatise on the Old Comedy; but now Zenon's pupils made the name more famous. [6] Now the Athenians had a great respect for Zenon, so that they gave him the keys of their walls, and they also honoured him with a golden crown, and a brazen statue; and this was also done by his own countrymen, who thought the statue of such a man an honour to their city. And the Citiaeans, in the district of Sidon, also claimed him as their countryman.

{8} He was also much respected by Antigonus, who, whenever he came to Athens, used to attend his lectures, and was constantly inviting him to come to him. But he begged off himself, and sent Persaeus, one of his intimate friends, who was the son of Demetrius, and a Citiaean by birth, and who flourished about the hundred and thirtieth Olympiad [260 B. C. ], when Zenon was an old man. The letter of Antigonus to Zenon was as follows, and it is reported by Apollonius, the Tyrian, in his essay on Zenon.

[7] King Antigonus to Zenon the philosopher, greeting.

I think that in good fortune and glory I have the advantage of you; but in reason and education I am inferior to you, also in that perfect happiness which you have attained to. On which account I have thought it good to address you, and invite you to come to me, being convinced that you will not refuse what is asked of you. Endeavour, therefore, by all means to come to me, considering this fact, that you will not be the instructor of me alone, but of all the Macedonians together. For he who instructs the ruler of the Macedonians and who leads him in the path of virtue, evidently marshals all his subjects on the road to happiness. For as the ruler is, so is it natural that his subjects for the most part should be also.

And Zenon wrote him back the following answer.

[8] Zenon to King Antigonus, greeting.

I admire your desire for learning, as being a true object for the wishes of mankind, and one too that tends to their advantage. And the man who aims at the study of philosophy has a proper disregard for the popular kind of instruction which tends only to the corruption of the morals. And you, passing by the pleasure which is so much spoken of, which makes the minds of some young men effeminate, show plainly that you are inclined to noble pursuits, not merely by your nature, but also by your own deliberate choice. And a noble nature, when it has received even a slight degree of training, and which also meets with those who will teach it abundantly, proceeds without difficulty to a perfect attainment of virtue. [9] But I now find my bodily health impaired by old age, for I am eighty years old: on which account I am unable to come to you. But I send you some of those who have studied with me, who in that learning which has reference to the soul, are in no respect inferior to me, and in their bodily vigour are greatly my superiors. And if you associate with them you will want nothing that can bear upon perfect happiness.

So he sent him Persaeus and Philonides, the Theban, both of whom are mentioned by Epicurus, in his letter to his brother Aristobulus, as being companions of Antigonus.

{9} And I have thought it worth while also to set down the decree of the Athenians concerning him; [10] and it is couched in the following language.

In the archonship of Arrhenides, in the fifth prytany of the tribe Acamantis, on the twenty-first day of the month Maimacterion, on the twenty-third day of the aforesaid prytany, in a duly convened assembly, Hippon, the son of Cratistoteles, of the deme of Xypete, being one of the presidents, and the rest of the presidents, his colleagues, put the following decree to the vote. And the decree was proposed by Thrason, of Anacaea, the son of Thrason.

Since Zenon the son of Mnaseas, the Citiaean, has passed many years in the city, in the study of philosophy, being in all other respects a good man, and also exhorting all the young men who have sought his company to the practice of virtue, and encouraging them in the practice of temperance making his own life a model to all men of the greatest excellence, since it has in every respect corresponded to the doctrines which he has taught; [11] it has been determined by the people (and may the determination be fortunate), to praise Zenon, the son of Mnaseas, the Citiaean, and to present him with a golden crown in accordance with the law, on account of his virtue and temperance, and to build him a tomb in the Cerameicus, at the public expense. And the people has appointed by its vote five men from among the citizens of Athens, who shall see to the making of the crown and the building of the tomb. And the scribe of the borough shall enrol the decree and engrave it on two pillars, and he shall be permitted to place one pillar in the Academy, and one in the Lyceium. And he who is appointed to superintend the work shall divide the expense that the pillars amount to, in such a way that every one may understand that the whole people of Athens honours good men both while they are living and after they are dead. [12] And Thrason of Anacaea, Philocles of the Peiraeus, Phaedrus of Anaphlystus, Medon of Acharnae, Smicythus of Sypalettus, and (? ) Dion of Paeania, are hereby appointed to superintend the building of the tomb.

These then are the terms of the decree.

{10} But Antigonus of Carystus says, that Zenon himself never denied that he was a native of Citium. For that when on one occasion, there was a citizen of that town who had contributed to the building of some baths, and was having his name engraved on the pillar, as the countryman of Zenon the philosopher, he bade them add, "Of Citium. "

{11} And at another time, when he had had a hollow covering made for some vessel, he carried it about for some money, in order to procure present relief for some difficulties which were distressing Crates his master. [13] And they say that he, when he first arrived in Greece, had more than a thousand talents, which he lent out at nautical usury.

{12} And he used to eat little loaves and honey, and to drink a small quantity of sweet smelling wine. {13} He had very few youthful acquaintances of the male sex, and he did not cultivate them much, lest be should be thought to be a misogynist. And he dwelt in the same house with Persaeus; and once, when he brought in a female flute-player to him, he hastened to bring her back to him. {14} And he was, it is said, of a very accommodating temper; so much so, that Antigonus, the king, often came to dine with him, and often carried him off to dine with him, at the house of Aristocles the harp-player; but when he was there, he would presently steal away.

[14] {15} It is also said that he avoided a crowd with great care, so that he used to sit at the end of a bench, in order at events to avoid being incommoded on one side. And he never used to walk with more than two or three companions. And he used at times to exact a piece of money from all who came to bear him, with a view of not being distressed by numbers; and this story is told by Cleanthes, in his treatise on Brazen Money. And when he was surrounded by any great crowd, would point to a balustrade of wood at the end of the colonnade which surrounded an altar, and say, "That was once in the middle of this place, but it was placed apart because it was in people's way; and now, if you will only withdraw from the middle here, you too will incommode me much less. " {16} And when Demochares, the son of Laches, embraced him once, and said that he would tell Antigonus, or write to him of everything which he wanted, as he always did everything for him; Zenon, when he had heard him say this, avoided his company for the future. [15] And it is said, that after the death of Zenon, Antigonus said, "What an audience I have lost. " On which account he employed Thrason, their ambassador, to entreat of the Athenians to allow him to be buried in the Cerameicus. And when he was asked why he had such an admiration for him, he replied, "Because, though I gave him a great many important presents, he was never elated, and never humbled. " {17} He was a man of a very investigating spirit, and one who inquired very minutely into everything; in reference to which, Timon, in his Silli, speaks thus:
I saw an aged woman of Phoenicia,
Hungry and covetous, in a proud obscurity,
Longing for everything. She had a basket
So full of holes that it retained nothing.
Likewise her mind was less than a skindapsos.

[16] He used to study very carefully with Philon, the dialectician, and to argue with him at their mutual leisure; on which account {Philon} was admired by the young Zenon, no less than Diodorus his master.

{18} There were also a lot of dirty beggars always about him, as Timon tells us, where he says
Till he collected a vast cloud of beggars,
Who were of all men in the world the poorest,
And the most worthless citizens of Athens.

And he himself was a man of a morose and bitter countenance, with a constantly frowning expression. He was very economical, and descended even to the meanness of the barbarians, under the pretence of economy. {19} If he reproved any one, he did it with brevity and without exaggeration, and as it were, at a distance. I allude, for instance, to the way in which he spoke of a man who took exceeding pains in setting himself off, [17] for as he was crossing a gutter with great hesitation, he said, "He is right to look down upon the mud, for he cannot see himself in it. " And when some Cynic one day said that he had no oil in his lamp, and asked him for some, he refused to give him any, but bade him go away and consider which of the two was the more impudent. He was very much in love with Chremonides; and once, when he and Cleanthes were both sitting by him, he got up; and as Cleanthes wondered at this, he said, "I hear from skilful physicians that the best thing for some tumours is rest. " Once, when two people were sitting above him at table at a banquet, and the one next him kept kicking the other with his foot, he himself kicked him with his knee; and when he turned round upon him for doing so, he said, "Why then do you think that your other neighbour is to be treated in this way by you? "

[18] On one occasion he said to a man who was very fond of young boys, that "Schoolmasters who were always associating with boys had no more intellect than the boys themselves. " He used also to say that the discourses of those men who were careful to avoid solecisms, and to adhere to the strictest rules of composition, were like Alexandrian money, they were pleasing to the eye and well-formed like the coins, but were nothing the better for that; but those who were not so particular he likened to the Attic tetradrachms, which were struck at random and without any great nicety, and so he said that their discourses often outweighed the more polished styles of the others. And when Ariston, his disciple, had been holding forth a good deal without much wit, but still in some points with a good deal of readiness and confidence, he said to him, "It would be impossible for you to speak thus, if your father had not been drunk when he begat you;" and for the same reason he nicknamed him the chatterer, as he himself was very concise in his speeches. [19] Once, when he was in company with an epicure who usually left nothing for his messmates, and when a large fish was set before him, he took it all as if he could eat the whole of it; and when the others looked at him with astonishment, he said, "What then do you think that your companions feel every day, if you cannot bear with my gluttony for one day? " On one occasion, when a youth was asking him questions with a pertinacity unsuited to his age, he led him to a looking-glass and bade him look at himself, and then asked him whether such questions appeared suitable to the face he saw there. And when a man said before him once, that in most points he did not agree with the doctrines of Antisthenes, he quoted to him an apophthegm of Sophocles, and asked him whether he thought there was much sense in that, and when he said that he did not know, "Are you not then ashamed," said he, "to pick out and recollect anything bad which may have been said by Antisthenes, but not to regard or remember what. ever is said that is good? " [20] A man once said, that the sayings of the philosophers appeared to him very trivial; "You say true," replied Zenon, "and their syllables too ought to be short, if that is possible. " When some one spoke to him of Polemon, and said that he proposed one question for discussion and then argued another, he became angry, and said, "At what value did he estimate the subject that had been proposed? " And he said that a man who was to discuss a question ought to have a loud voice and great energy, like the actors, but not to open his mouth too wide, which those who speak a great deal but only talk nonsense usually do. And he used to say that there was no need for those who argued well to leave their hearers room to look about them, as good workmen do, who want to have their work seen; but that, on the contrary, those who are listening to them ought to be so attentive to all that is said as to have no leisure to take notes. [21] Once when a young man was talking a great deal, he said, "Your ears have run down into your tongue. " On one occasion a very handsome man was saying that a wise man did not appear to him likely to fall in love; "Then," said he, "I cannot imagine anything that will be more miserable than you good-looking fellows. " He also used often to say that most philosophers were wise in great things, but ignorant of petty subjects and chance details; and he used to cite the saying of Caphisius, who, when one of his pupils was labouring hard to be able to blow very powerfully, gave him a slap, and said, that excellence did not depend upon greatness, but greatness on excellence. Once, when a young man was arguing very confidently, he said, "I should not like to say, O youth, all that occurs to me. " [22] And once, when a handsome and wealthy Rhodian, but one who had no other qualification, was pressing him to take him as a pupil, he, as he was not inclined to receive him, first of all made him sit on the dusty seats that he might dirt his cloak, then he put him down in the place of the poor that he might rub against their rags, and at last the young man went away. One of his sayings used to be, that vanity was the most unbecoming of all things, and especially so in the young. Another was, that one ought not to try and recollect the exact words and expressions of a discourse, but to fix all one's attention on the arrangement of the arguments, instead of treating it as if it were a piece of boiled meat, or some delicate eatable. He used also to say that young men ought to maintain the most scrupulous reserve in their walking, their gait, and their dress; and he was constantly quoting the lines of Euripides on Capaneus, that [Suppl_861]:
His wealth was ample.
But yet no pride did mingle with his state,
Nor had he haughty thought, or arrogance
More than the poorest man.

[23] And one of his sayings used to be, that nothing was more unfriendly to the comprehension of the accurate sciences than poetry; and that there was nothing that we stood in so much need of as time. When he was asked what a friend was, he replied, "Another I. " They say that he was once scourging a slave whom he had detected in theft; and when he said to him, "It was fated that I should steal ;" he rejoined, "Yes, and that you should be beaten. " He used to call beauty the flower of the voice; but some report this as if he had said that the voice is the flower of beauty. On one occasion, when he saw a slave belonging to one of his friends severely bruised, he said to his friend, "I see the footsteps of your anger. " He once accosted a man who was all over unguents and perfumes, "Who is this who smells like a woman ? " When Dionysius Metathemenos asked him why he was the only person whom he did not correct, he replied, "Because I have no confidence in you. " A young man was talking a great deal of nonsense, and he said to him, "This is the reason why we have two ears and only one mouth, that we may hear more and speak less. " [24] Once, when he was at an entertainment and remained wholly silent, he was asked what the reason was; and so he bade the person who found fault with him tell the king that there was a man in the room who knew how to hold his tongue; now the people who asked him this were ambassadors who had come from Ptolemy, and who wished to know what report they were to make of him to the king. He was once asked how he felt when people abused him, and he said, "As an ambassador feels when he is sent away without an answer. " Apollonius of Tyre tells us, that when Crates dragged him by the cloak away from Stilpon, he said.