BOOK VII.

LIFE OF ZENO.

I. Zeno was the son of Mnaseas, or Demeas, and a native of Citium, in

Cyprus, which is a Grecian city, partly occupied by a Phœnician colony.

II. 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 Persæus, 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.

III. 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 Polemo. But Hecaton, and Apollonius, of Tyre, in the

first book of his essay on Zeno, 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 Phœnicia,

he was shipwrecked close to the Piræus; 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; and

as Crates happened very seasonably to pass at the moment, the bookseller

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 Ceramicus; 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 Zeno fled away, and the lentil porridge ran all down his legs,

Crates called after him, “Why do you run away, my little Phœnician,

you have done no harm?” 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.

IV. 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 the Becoming; 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 Bearing of the Poets. There is also an essay on Art by him, and

two books of Solutions and Jests, and Reminiscences, and one called the

Ethics of Crates. These are the books of which he was the author.

V. 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 he 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. 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.

VI. And he used to walk up and down in the beautiful colonnade which is

called the Peisianactium, and which is also called ποικίλη, 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.

VII. 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 (στοὰ) had

been called Stoics, as we are informed by Eratosthenes, in the eighth

book of his treatise on the Old Comedy; but now Zeno’s pupils made the

name more notorious. Now the Athenians had a great respect for Zeno, 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 Cittiæans, in the district of Sidon, also claimed him as

their countryman.

VIII. 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 Persæus, one of his

intimate friends, who was the son of Demetrius, and a Cittiæan by birth,

and who flourished about the hundred and thirtieth olympiad, when Zeno

was an old man. The letter of Antigonus to Zeno was as follows, and it is

reported by Apollonius, the Syrian, in his essay on Zeno.

KING ANTIGONUS TO ZENO 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, and 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 Zeno wrote him back the following answer.

ZENO 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. 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 Persæus and Philonides, the Theban, both of whom are

mentioned by Epicurus, in his letter to his brother Aristobulus, as being

companions of Antigonus.

IX. And I have thought it worth while also to set down the decree of the

Athenians concerning him; and it is couched in the following language.

“In the archonship of Arrhenides, in the fifth presidency of the tribe

Acamantis, on the twenty-first day of the month Maimacterion, on the

twenty-third day of the aforesaid presidency, in a duly convened

assembly, Hippo, the son of Cratistoteles, of the borough of Xypetion,

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 Anacæa, the son of Thrason.

“Since Zeno the son of Mnaseas, the Cittiæan, 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; it has been determined by the people (and may the

determination be fortunate), to praise Zeno, the son of Mnaseas, the

Cittiæan, 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 Ceramicus, 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

Lyceum. 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. And Thrason of Anacæa, Philocles

of the Piræus, Phædrus of Anaphlystos, Medon of Acharnæ, Micythus of

Sypalettus, and Dion of Pæania, are hereby appointed to superintend the

building of the tomb.”

These then are the terms of the decree.

X. But Antigonus, of Carystos, says, that Zeno himself never denied that

he was a native of Cittium. 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 Zeno

the philosopher, he bade them add, “Of Cittium.”

XI. 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.

And they say that he, when he first arrived in Greece, had more than a

thousand talents, which he lent out at nautical usury.

XII. And he used to eat little loaves and honey, and to drink a small

quantity of sweet smelling wine.

XIII. He had very few youthful acquaintances of the male sex, and he did

not cultivate them much, lest he should be thought to be a misogynist.

And he dwelt in the same house with Persæus; and once, when he brought in

a female flute-player to him, he hastened to bring her back to him.

XIV. 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.

XV. 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 all 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 hear 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, he 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.”

XVI. 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, Zeno, when he had heard him

say this, avoided his company for the future. And it is said, that after

the death of Zeno, Antigonus said, “What a spectacle have I lost.” On

which account he employed Thrason, their ambassador, to entreat of the

Athenians to allow him to be buried in the Ceramicus. 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.”

XVII. 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 Phœnicia,

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 skindapsus.[81]

He used to study very carefully with Philo, the dialectician, and to

argue with him at their mutual leisure; on which account he excited the

wonder of the younger Zeno, no less than Diodorus his master.

XVIII. 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.

XIX. 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, 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

cruise, 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?”

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 Alexandrine

money, they were pleasing to the eye and well-formed like the coin, but

were nothing the better for that; but those who were not so particular

he likened to the Attic tetradrachmas, 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. 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

whatever is said that is good?” A man once said, that the sayings of the

philosophers appeared to him very trivial; “You say true,” replied Zeno,

“and their syllables too ought to be short, if that is possible.” When

some one spoke to him of Polemo, 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.

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 Caphesius, 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.” 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—

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.

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

Metathemenus 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.”

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 Stilpo, he said, “O Crates, the proper way to take hold

of philosophers is by the ears; so now do you convince me and drag me by

them; but if you use force towards me, my body may be with you, but my

mind with Stilpo.”

XX. He used to devote a good deal of time to Diodorus, as we learn from

Hippobotus; and he studied dialectics under him. And when he had made

a good deal of progress he attached himself to Polemo because of his

freedom from arrogance, so that it is reported that he said to him,

“I am not ignorant, O Zeno, that you slip into the garden-door and

steal my doctrines, and then clothe them in a Phœnician dress.” When a

dialectician once showed him seven species of dialectic argument in the

mowing argument,[82] he asked him how much he charged for them, and when

he said “A hundred drachmas,” he gave him two hundred, so exceedingly

devoted was he to learning.

XXI. They say too, that he was the first who ever employed the word duty

(καθῆκον), and who wrote a treatise on the subject. And that he altered

the lines of Hesiod thus:—

He is the best of all men who submits

To follow good advice; he too is good,

Who of himself perceives whate’er is fit.[83]

For he said that that man who had the capacity to give a proper hearing

to what was said, and to avail himself of it, was superior to him who

comprehended everything by his own intellect; for that the one had only

comprehension, but the one who took good advice had action also.

XXII. When he was asked why he, who was generally austere, relaxed at a

dinner party, he said, “Lupins too are bitter, but when they are soaked

they become sweet.” And Hecaton, in the second book of his Apophthegms,

says, that in entertainments of that kind, he used to indulge himself

freely. And he used to say that it was better to trip with the feet, than

with the tongue. And that goodness was attained by little and little,

but was not itself a small thing. Some authors, however, attribute this

saying to Socrates.

XXIII. He was a person of great powers of abstinence and endurance; and

of very simple habits, living on food which required no fire to dress it,

and wearing a thin cloak, so that it was said of him:—

The cold of winter, and the ceaseless rain,

Come powerless against him; weak is the dart

Of the fierce summer sun, or fell disease,

To bend that iron frame. He stands apart,

In nought resembling the vast common crowd;

But, patient and unwearied, night and day,

Clings to his studies and philosophy.

XXIV. And the comic poets, without intending it, praise him in their very

attempts to turn him into ridicule. Philemon speaks thus of him in his

play entitled the Philosophers:—

This man adopts a new philosophy,

He teaches to be hungry; nevertheless,

He gets disciples. Bread his only food,

His best desert dried figs; water his drink.

But some attribute these lines to Posidippus. And they have become

almost a proverb. Accordingly it used to be said of him, “More temperate

than Zeno the philosopher.” Posidippus also writes thus in his Men

Transported:—

So that for ten whole days he did appear

More temperate than Zeno’s self.

XXV. For in reality he did surpass all men in this description of virtue,

and in dignity of demeanour, and, by Jove, in happiness. For he lived

ninety-eight years, and then died, without any disease, and continuing in

good health to the last. But Persæus, in his Ethical School, states that

he died at the age of seventy-two, and that he came to Athens when he

was twenty-two years old. But Apollonius says that he presided over his

school for forty-eight years.

XXVI. And he died in the following manner. When he was going out of his

school, he tripped, and broke one of his toes; and striking the ground

with his hand, he repeated the line out of the Niobe:—

I come: why call me so?

And immediately he strangled himself, and so he died. But the Athenians

buried him in the Ceramicus, and honoured him with the decrees which I

have mentioned before, bearing witness to his virtue. And Antipater, the

Sidonian, wrote an inscription for him, which runs thus:—

Here Cittium’s pride, wise Zeno, lies, who climb’d

The summits of Olympus; but unmoved

By wicked thoughts ne’er strove to raise on Ossa

The pine-clad Pelion; nor did he emulate

Th’ immortal toils of Hercules; but found

A new way for himself to th’ highest heaven,

By virtue, temperance, and modesty.

And Zenodotus, the Stoic, a disciple of Diogenes, wrote another:—

You made contentment the chief rule of life,

Despising haughty wealth, O God-like Zeno.

With solemn look, and hoary brow serene,

You taught a manly doctrine; and didst found

By your deep wisdom, a great novel school,

Chaste parent of unfearing liberty.

And if your country was Phœnicia,

Why need we grieve, from that land Cadmus came,

Who gave to Greece her written books of wisdom.

And Athenæus, the Epigrammatic poet, speaks thus of all the Stoics in

common:—

O, ye who’ve learnt the doctrines of the Porch,

And have committed to your books divine

The best of human learning; teaching men

That the mind’s virtue is the only good.

And she it is who keeps the lives of men,

And cities, safer than high gates or walls.

But those who place their happiness in pleasure,

Are led by the least worthy of the Muses.

And we also have ourselves spoken of the manner of Zeno’s death, in our

collection of poems in all metres, in the following terms:—

Some say that Zeno, pride of Cittium,

Died of old age, when weak and quite worn out;

Some say that famine’s cruel tooth did slay him;

Some that he fell, and striking hard the ground,

Said, “See, I come, why call me thus impatiently?”

For some say that this was the way in which he died. And this is enough

to say concerning his death.

XXVII. But Demetrius, the Magnesian, says, in his essay on People of

the Same Name, that his father Mnaseas often came to Athens, as he was

a merchant, and that he used to bring back many of the books of the

Socratic philosophers, to Zeno, while he was still only a boy; and that,

from this circumstance, Zeno had already become talked of in his own

country; and that in consequence of this he went to Athens, where he

attached himself to Crates. And it seems, he adds, that it was he who

first recommended a clear enunciation of principles, as the best remedy

for error. He is said, too, to have been in the habit of swearing “By

Capers,” as Socrates swore “By the Dog.”

XXVIII. Some, indeed, among whom is Cassius the Sceptic, attack Zeno

on many accounts, saying first of all that he denounced the general

system of education in vogue at the time, as useless, which he did in

the beginning of his Republic. And in the second place, that he used to

call all who were not virtuous, adversaries, and enemies, and slaves,

and unfriendly to one another, parents to their children, brethren to

brethren, and kinsmen to kinsmen; and again, that in his Republic, he

speaks of the virtuous as the only citizens, and friends, and relations,

and free men, so that in the doctrine of the Stoic, even parents and

their children are enemies; for they are not wise. Also, that he lays

down the principle of the community of women both in his Republic and in

a poem of two hundred verses, and teaches that neither temples nor courts

of law, nor gymnasia, ought to be erected in a city; moreover, that he

writes thus about money, “That he does not think that men ought to coin

money either for purposes of traffic, or of travelling.” Besides all

this, he enjoins men and women to wear the same dress, and to leave no

part of their person uncovered.

XXIX. And that this treatise on the Republic is his work we are assured

by Chrysippus, in his Republic. He also discussed amatory subjects in the

beginning of that book of his which is entitled the Art of Love. And in

his Conversations he writes in a similar manner.

Such are the charges made against him by Cassius, and also by Isidorus,

of Pergamus, the orator, who says that all the unbecoming doctrines and

assertions of the Stoics were cut out of their books by Athenodorus,

the Stoic, who was the curator of the library at Pergamus. And that

subsequently they were replaced, as Athenodorus was detected, and placed

in a situation of great danger; and this is sufficient to say about those

doctrines of his which were impugned.

XXX. There were eight different persons of the name of Zeno. The first

was the Eleatic, whom we shall mention hereafter; the second was this

man of whom we are now speaking; the third was a Rhodian, who wrote a

history of his country in one book; the fourth was a historian who wrote

an account of the expedition of Pyrrhus into Italy and Sicily; and also

an epitome of the transactions between the Romans and Carthaginians; the

fifth was a disciple of Chrysippus, who wrote very few books, but who

left a great number of disciples; the sixth was a physician of Herophila,

a very shrewd man in intellect, but a very indifferent writer; the

seventh was a grammarian, who, besides other writings, has left some

epigrams behind him; the eighth was a Sidonian by descent, a philosopher

of the Epicurean school, a deep thinker, and very clear writer.

XXXI. The disciples of Zeno were very numerous. The most eminent were,

first of all, Persæus, of Cittium, the son of Demetrius, whom some call

a friend of his, but others describe him as a servant and one of the

amanuenses who were sent to him by Antigonus, to whose son, Halcyoneus,

he also acted as tutor. And Antigonus once, wishing to make trial of him,

caused some false news to be brought to him that his estate had been

ravaged by the enemy; and as he began to look gloomy at this news, he

said to him, “You see that wealth is not a matter of indifference.”

The following works are attributed to him. One on Kingly Power; one

entitled the Constitution of the Lacedæmonians; one on Marriage; one

on Impiety; the Thyestes; an Essay on Love; a volume of Exhortations;

one of Conversations; four of Apophthegms; one of Reminiscences; seven

treatises, the Laws of Plato.

The next was Ariston, of Chios, the son of Miltiades, who was the

first author of the doctrine of indifference; then Herillus, who

called knowledge the chief good; then Dionysius, who transferred this

description to pleasure; as, on account of the violent disease which he

had in his eyes, he could not yet bring himself to call pain a thing

indifferent. He was a native of Heraclea; there was also Sphærus, of the

Bosphorus; and Cleanthes, of Assos, the son of Phanias, who succeeded him

in his school, and whom he used to liken to tablets of hard wax, which

are written upon with difficulty, but which retain what is written upon

them. And after Zeno’s death, Sphærus became a pupil of Cleanthes. And we

shall speak of him in our account of Cleanthes.

These also were all disciples of Zeno, as we are told by Hippobotus,

namely:—Philonides, of Thebes; Callippus, of Corinth; Posidonius, of

Alexandria; Athenodorus, of Soli; and Zeno, a Sidonian.

XXXII. And I have thought it best to give a general account of all the

Stoic doctrines in the life of Zeno, because he it was who was the

founder of the sect.

He has written a great many books, of which I have already given a list,

in which he has spoken as no other of the Stoics has. And his doctrines

in general are these. But we will enumerate them briefly, as we have been

in the habit of doing in the case of the other philosophers.

XXXIII. The Stoics divide reason according to philosophy, into three

parts; and say that one part relates to natural philosophy, one to

ethics, and one to logic. And Zeno, the Cittiæan, was the first who made

this division, in his treatise on Reason; and he was followed in it by

Chrysippus, in the first book of his treatise on Reason, and in the first

book of his treatise on Natural Philosophy; and also by Apollodorus; and

by Syllus, in the first book of his Introduction to the Doctrines of the

Stoics; and by Eudromus, in his Ethical Elements; and by Diogenes, the

Babylonian; and Posidonius. Now these divisions are called _topics_ by

Apollodorus, _species_ by Chrysippus and Eudromus, and _genera_ by all

the rest. And they compare philosophy to an animal, likening logic to the

bones and sinews, natural philosophy to the fleshy parts, and ethical

philosophy to the soul. Again, they compare it to an egg; calling logic

the shell, and ethics the white, and natural philosophy the yolk. Also to

a fertile field; in which logic is the fence which goes round it, ethics

are the fruit, and natural philosophy the soil, or the fruit-trees.

Again, they compare it to a city fortified by walls, and regulated by

reason; and then, as some of them say, no one part is preferred to

another, but they are all combined and united inseparably; and so they

treat of them all in combination. But others class logic first, natural

philosophy second, and ethics third; as Zeno does in his treatise on

Reason, and in this he is followed by Chrysippus, and Archedemus, and

Eudromus.

For Diogenes of Ptolemais begins with ethics; but Apollodorus places

ethics second; and Panætius and Posidonius begin with natural philosophy,

as Phanias, the friend of Posidonius asserts, in the first book of his

treatise on the School of Posidonius.

But Cleanthes says, that there are six divisions of reason according

to philosophy: dialectics, rhetoric, ethics, politics, physics, and

theology; but others assert that these are not divisions of reason,

but of philosophy itself; and this is the opinion advanced by Zeno, of

Tarsus, among others.

XXXIV. Some again say, that the logical division is properly subdivided

into two sciences, namely, rhetoric and dialectics; and some divide

it also into definitive species, which is conversant with rules and

tests; while others deny the propriety of this last division altogether,

and argue that the object of rules and tests is the discovery of the

truth; for it is in this division that they explain the differences of

representations. They also argue that, on the other side, the science of

definitions has equally for its object the discovery of truth, since we

only know things by the intervention of ideas. They also call rhetoric

a science conversant about speaking well concerning matters which admit

of a detailed narrative; and dialectics they call the science of arguing

correctly in discussions which can be carried on by question and answer;

on which account they define it thus: a knowledge of what is true, and

false, and neither one thing nor the other.

Again, rhetoric itself they divide into three kinds; for one description

they say is concerning about giving advice, another is forensic, and

the third encomiastic; and it is also divided into several parts,

one relating to the discovery of arguments, one to style, one to the

arrangement of arguments, and the other to the delivery of the speech.

And a rhetorical oration they divide into the exordium, the narration,

the reply to the statements of the adverse party, and the peroration.

XXXV. Dialectics, they say, is divided into two parts; one of which has

reference to the things signified, the other to the expression. That

which has reference to the things signified or spoken of, they divide

again into the topic of things conceived in the fancy, and into those

of axioms, of perfect determinations, of predicaments, of things alike,

whether upright or prostrate, of tropes, of syllogisms, and of sophisms,

which are derived either from the voice or from the things. And these

sophisms are of various kinds; there is the false one, the one which

states facts, the negative, the sorites, and others like these; the

imperfect one, the inexplicable one, the conclusive one, the veiled one,

the horned one, the nobody, and the mower.

In the second part of dialectics, that which has for its object the

expression, they treat of written language, of the different parts of a

discourse, of solecism and barbarism, of poetical forms of expression, of

ambiguity, of a melodious voice, of music; and some even add definitions,

divisions, and diction.

They say that the most useful of these parts is the consideration of

syllogisms; for that they show us what are the things which are capable

of demonstration, and that contributes much to the formation of our

judgment, and their arrangement and memory give a scientific character

to our knowledge. They define reasoning to be a system composed of

assumptions and conclusions: and syllogism is a syllogistic argument

proceeding on them. Demonstration they define to be a method by which

one proceeds from that which is more known to that which is less.

Perception, again, is an impression produced on the mind, its name

being appropriately borrowed from impressions on wax made by a seal;

and perception they divide into comprehensible and incomprehensible:

Comprehensible, which they call the criterion of facts, and which

is produced by a real object, and is, therefore, at the same time

conformable to that object; Incomprehensible, which has no relation

to any real object, or else, if it has any such relation, does not

correspond to it, being but a vague and indistinct representation.

Dialectics itself they pronounce to be a necessary science, and a virtue

which comprehends several other virtues under its species. And the

disposition not to take up one side of an argument hastily, they defined

to be a knowledge by which we are taught when we ought to agree to a

statement, and when we ought to withhold our agreement. Discretion they

consider to be a powerful reason, having reference to what is becoming,

so as to prevent our yielding to an irrelevant argument. Irrefutability

they define to be a power in an argument, which prevents one from being

drawn from it to its opposite. Freedom from vanity, according to them, is

a habit which refers the perceptions back to right reason.

Again, they define knowledge itself as an assertion or safe

comprehension, or habit, which, in the perception of what is seen, never

deviates from the truth. And they say further, that without dialectic

speculation, the wise man cannot be free from all error in his reasoning.

For that that is what distinguishes what is true from what is false, and

which easily detects those arguments which are only plausible, and those

which depend upon an ambiguity of language. And without dialectics they

say it is not possible to ask or answer questions correctly. They also

add, that precipitation in denials extends to those things which are

done, so that those who have not properly exercised their perceptions

fall into irregularity and thoughtlessness. Again, without dialectics,

the wise man cannot be acute, and ingenious, and wary, and altogether

dangerous as an arguer. For that it belongs to the same man to speak

correctly and to reason correctly, and to discuss properly those subjects

which are proposed to him, and to answer readily whatever questions

are put to him, all which qualities belong to a man who is skilful in

dialectics. This then is a brief summary of their opinions on logic.

XXXVI. And, that we may also enter into some more minute details

respecting them, we will subjoin what refers to what they call their

introductory science, as it is stated by Diocles, of Magnesia, in his

Excursion of Philosophers, where he speaks as follows, and we will give

his account word for word.

The Stoics have chosen to treat, in the first place, of perception

and sensation, because the criterion by which the truth of facts is

ascertained is a kind of perception, and because the judgment which

expresses the belief, and the comprehension, and the understanding of

a thing, a judgment which precedes all others, cannot exist without

perception. For perception leads the way; and then thought, finding vent

in expressions, explains in words the feelings which it derives from

perception. But there is a difference between φαντασία and φάντασμα. For

φάντασμα is a conception of the intellect, such as takes place in sleep;

but φαντασία is an impression, τύπωσις, produced on the mind, that is

to say, an alteration, ἀλλοίωσις, as Chrysippus states in the twelfth

book of his treatise on the Soul. For we must not take this impression

to resemble that made by a seal, since it is impossible to conceive that

there should be many impressions made at the same time on the same thing.

But φαντασία is understood to be that which is impressed, and formed,

and imprinted by a real object, according to a real object, in such a

way as it could not be by any other than a real object; and, according

to their ideas of the φαντασίαι, some are sensible, and some are not.

Those they call sensible, which are derived by us from some one or more

senses; and those they call not sensible, which emanate directly from the

thought, as for instance, those which relate to incorporeal objects, or

any others which are embraced by reason. Again, those which are sensible,

are produced by a real object, which imposes itself on the intelligence,

and compels its acquiescence; and there are also some others, which are

simply apparent, mere shadows, which resemble those which are produced by

real objects.

Again, these φαντασίαι are divided into rational and irrational; those

which are rational belong to animals capable of reason; those which are

irrational to animals destitute of reason. Those which are rational

are thoughts; those which are irrational have no name; but are again

subdivided into artificial and not artificial. At all events, an image is

contemplated in a different light by a man skilful in art, from that in

which it is viewed by a man ignorant of art.

By sensation, the Stoics understand a species of breath which proceeds

from the dominant portion of the soul to the senses, whether it be a

sensible perception, or an organic disposition, which, according to

the notions of some of them, is crippled and vicious. They also call

sensation the energy, or active exercise, of the sense. According to

them, it is to sensation that we owe our comprehension of white and

black, and rough and smooth: from reason, that we derive the notions

which result from a demonstration, those for instance which have for

their object the existence of Gods, and of Divine Providence. For all

our thoughts are formed either by indirect perception, or by similarity,

or analogy, or transposition, or combination, or opposition. By a direct

perception, we perceive those things which are the objects of sense; by

similarity, those which start from some point present to our senses; as,

for instance, we form an idea of Socrates from his likeness. We draw our

conclusions by analogy, adopting either an increased idea of the thing,

as of Tityus, or the Cyclops; or a diminished idea, as of a pigmy. So,

too, the idea of the centre of the world was one derived by analogy

from what we perceived to be the case of the smaller spheres. We use

transposition when we fancy eyes in a man’s breast; combination, when we

take in the idea of a Centaur; opposition, when we turn our thoughts to

death. Some ideas we also derive from comparison, for instance, from a

comparison of words and places.

There is also nature; as by nature we comprehend what is just and

good. And privation, when for instance, we form a notion of a man

without hands. Such are the doctrines of the Stoics, on the subject of

phantasia, and sensation, and thought.

XXXVII. They say that the proper criterion of truth is the comprehension,

φαντασία; that is to say, one which is derived from a real object, as

Chrysippus asserts in the twelfth book of his Physics; and he is followed

by Antipater and Apollodorus. For Boethus leaves a great many criteria,

such as intellect, sensation, appetite, and knowledge; but Chrysippus

dissents from his view, and in the first book of his treatise on Reason,

says, that sensation and preconception are the only criteria. And

preconception is, according to him, a comprehensive physical notion of

general principles. But others of the earlier Stoics admit right reason

as one criterion of the truth; for instance, this is the opinion of

Posidonius, and is advanced by him in his essay on Criteria.

XXXVIII. On the subject of logical speculation, there appears to be

a great unanimity among the greater part of the Stoics, in beginning

with the topic of the voice. Now voice is a percussion of the air; or,

as Diogenes, the Babylonian, defines it, in his essay on the Voice,

a sensation peculiar to the hearing. The voice of a beast is a mere

percussion of the air by some impetus: but the voice of a man is

articulate, and is emitted by intellect, as Diogenes lays it down, and is

not brought to perfection in a shorter period than fourteen years. And

the voice is a body according to the Stoics; for so it is laid down by

Archedemus, in his book on the Voice, and by Diogenes, and Antipater, and

also by Chrysippus, in the second volume of his Physics. For everything

which makes anything, is a body; and the voice makes something when it

proceeds to those who hear from those who speak.

A word (λέξις), again, is, according to Diogenes, a voice consisting of

letters, as “Day.” A sentence (λόγος) is a significant voice, sent out by

the intellect, as for instance, “It is day;” but dialect is a peculiar

style imprinted on the utterance of nations, according to their race;

and causes varieties in the Greek language, being a sort of local habit,

as for instance, the Attics say θάλαττα, and the Ionians say ἡμέρη.

The elements of words are the twenty-four letters; and the word letter

is used in a triple division of sense, meaning the element itself, the

graphical sign of the element, and the name, as Alpha. There are seven

vowels, α, ε, η, ι, ο, υ, ω; six mutes, β, γ, δ, κ, π, τ. But voice

is different from a word, because voice is a sound; but a word is an

articulate sound. And a word differs from a sentence, because a sentence

is always significative of something, but a word by itself has no

signification, as for instance, βλίτρι. But this is not the case with a

sentence. Again, there is a difference between speaking and pronouncing;

the sounds are pronounced, but what are spoken are things which are

capable of being spoken of.

XXXIX. Now of sentences there are five parts, as Diogenes tells us in his

treatise on Voice; and he is followed by Chrysippus. There is the noun,

the common noun, the verb, the conjunction, and the article. Antipater

adds also quality, in his treatise upon Words and the things expressed

by them. And a common noun (προσηγορία) is, according to Diogenes, a

part of a sentence signifying a common quality, as for instance, man,

horse. But a noun is a part of a sentence signifying a peculiar quality,

such as Diogenes, Socrates. A verb is a part of a sentence signifying

an uncombined categorem, as Diogenes (ὁ Διογένης) or, as others define

it, an element of a sentence, devoid of case, signifying something

compound in reference to some person or persons, as, “I write,” “I say.”

A conjunction is a part of a sentence destitute of case, uniting the

divisions of the sentence. An article is an element of a sentence, having

cases, defining the genders of nouns and their numbers, as ὁ, ἡ, τὸ, οἱ,

αἱ, τὰ.

XL. The excellences of a sentence are five,—good Greek, clearness,

conciseness, suitableness, elegance. Good Greek (Ἑλληνισμὸς) is a

correct style, according to art, keeping aloof from any vulgar form of

expression; clearness is a style which states that which is conceived in

the mind in such a way that it is easily known; conciseness is a style

which embraces all that is necessary to the clear explanation of the

subject under discussion; suitableness is a style suited to the subject;

elegance is a style which avoids all peculiarity of expression. Of the

vices of a sentence, on the other hand, barbarism is a use of words

contrary to that in vogue among the well-educated Greeks; solecism is a

sentence incongruously put together.

XLI. A poetical expression is, as Posidonius defines it in his

introduction on Style, “A metrical or rhythmical diction, proceeding

in preparation, and avoiding all resemblance to prose.” For instance,

“The vast and boundless earth,” “Th’ expanse of heaven,” are rhythmical

expressions; and poetry is a collection of poetical expressions

signifying something, containing an imitation of divine and human beings.

XLII. A definition is, as Antipater explains it in the first book of his

treatise on Definitions, a sentence proceeding by analysis enunciated

in such a way as to give a complete idea; or, as Chrysippus says in his

treatise on Definitions, it is the explanation of an idea. Description is

a sentence which, in a figurative manner, brings one to a knowledge of

the subject, or it may be called a simpler kind of definition, expressing

the power of a definition in plainer language. Genus is a comprehending

of many ideas indissolubly connected, as animal; for this one expression

comprehends all particular kinds of animals. An idea is an imagination of

the mind which does not express actually anything real, or any quality,

but only a _quasi_ reality and a _quasi_ quality; such, for instance, is

the idea of a horse when a horse is not present. Species is that which is

comprehended under genus, as man is comprehended under animal.

Again, that is the most general genus which, being a genus itself, has no

other genus, as the existent. And that is the most special species, which

being a species has no other species, as, for instance, Socrates.

XLIII. The division of genus is a dissection of it into the proximate

species; as, for instance, “Of animals, some are rational, others

irrational.” Contrary division is the dissection of genus into species on

the principle of the contrary; so as to be by a sort of negation; as, for

instance, “Of existent things, some are good and some not good;” and, “Of

things which are not good, some are bad and some indifferent.” Partition

is an arrangement of a genus with reference to place, as Crinis says,

for instance, “Of goods, some have reference to the mind and some to the

body.”

XLIV. Ambiguity (ἀμφιβολία) is an expression signifying two or more

things having an ordinary or a peculiar meaning, according to the

pronunciation, in such a way that more things than one may be understood

by the very same expression. Take, for instance, the words αὐλητρὶς

πέπτωκε. For you may understand by them, a house has fallen down three

times (αὐλὴ τρὶς πέπτωκε), or, a female flute-player has fallen, taking

αὐλητρὶς as synonymous with αὐλητρία.

LV. Dialectics are, as Posidonius explains them, the science of what is

true and false, and neither one or the other, and it is, as Chrysippus

explains it, conversant about words that signify and things that are

signified; these then are the doctrines asserted by the Stoics in their

speculations on the subject of the voice.

XLVI. But in that part of dialectics which concerns things and ideas

signified, they treat of propositions, of perfect enunciations, of

judgments, of syllogisms, of imperfect enunciations, of attributes and

deficiencies, and of both direct and indirect categorems or predicaments.

XLVII. And they say that enunciation is the manifestation of the ideal

perception; and these enunciations the Stoics pronounce some to be

perfect in themselves, and some to be defective; now those are defective,

which furnish an incomplete sense, as for instance, “He writes.” For

then we ask further, “Who writes?” But those are perfect in themselves,

which give a sense entirely complete, as for instance, “Socrates writes.”

Accordingly, in the defective enunciations, categorems are applied; but

in those which are perfect in themselves, axioms, and syllogisms, and

questions, and interrogations, are brought into play. Now a categorem is

something which is predicated of something else, being either a thing

which is added to one or more objects, according to the definition of

Apollodorus, or else a defective enunciation added to the nominative

case, for the purpose of forming a proposition.

Now of categorems, some are accidents …[84] as for instance, “The sailing

through a rock.” … And of categorems, some are direct, some indirect,

and some neither one nor the other. Now those are correct, which are

construed with one of the oblique cases, in such a manner as to produce

a categorem, as for instance, “He hears, he sees, he converses.” And

those are indirect, which are construed with the passive voice, as for

instance, “I am heard, I am seen.” And those which are neither one nor

the other, are those which are construed in a neutral kind of manner, as

for instance, “To think, to walk.” And those are reciprocal, which are

among the indirect ones, without being indirect themselves. Those are

effects, ἐνεργήματα, which are such words as, “He is shaved;” for then,

the man who is shaved, implies himself.

The oblique cases, are the genitive, the dative, and the accusative.

XLVIII. An axiom, is that thing which is true, or false, or perfect

in itself, being asserted, or denied positively, as far as depends

upon itself; as Chrysippus explains it in his Dialectic Definitions;

as for instance, “It is day,” “Dion is walking.” And it has received

the name of axiom, ἀξίωμα, because it is either maintained, ἀξιοῦται,

or repudiated. For the man who says, “It is day,” appears to maintain

the fact of its being day. If then it is day, the axiom put before one

is true; but if it is not day, the axiom is false. And an axiom, a

question, and an interrogation, differ from one another, and so does an

imperative proposition from one which is adjurative, or imprecatory,

or hypothetical, or appellative, or false. For that is an axiom which

we utter, when we affirm anything positively, which is either true or

false. And a question is a thing complete in itself, as also is an axiom,

but which requires an answer, as for instance, “Is it day?” Now this

is neither true nor false; but, as “It is day” is an axiom; so is, “Is

it day?” a question. But an interrogation, πύσμα, is a thing to which

it is not possible to make an answer symbolically, as in the case of a

question, ἐρώτημα, saying merely “Yes,” but we must reply, “He does live

in this place.”

The imperative proposition is a thing which we utter when we give an

order, as for instance this:—

Do you now go to the sweet stream of Inachus.[85]

…

The appellative proposition is one which is used in the case in which,

when a man says anything, he must address somebody, as for instance:—

Atrides, glorious king of men,

Most mighty Agamemnon.[86]

A false judgment is a proposition, which, while it has at the same time

the appearance of a real judgment, loses this character by the addition,

and under the influence of, some particle, as for instance:

The Parthenon at least is beautiful.

How like the herdsman is to Priam’s sons.

There is also the dubitative proposition, which differs from the

judgment, inasmuch as it is always uttered in the form of a doubt; as for

instance:—

Are not, then, grief and life two kindred states?[87]

But questions, and interrogations, and things like these, are neither

true nor false, while judgments and propositions are necessarily one or

the other.

Now of axioms, some are simple, and others are not simple; as

Chrysippus, and Archedemus, and Athenodorus, and Antipater, and Crinis,

agree in dividing them. Those are simple, which consist of an axiom

or proposition, which is not ambiguous, (or of several axioms, or

propositions of the same character,) as for instance the sentence, “It is

day.” And those are not simple, which consist of an axiom or proposition

which is ambiguous, or of several axioms or propositions of that

character. Of an axiom, or proposition, which is ambiguous, as “If it is

day;” of several axioms, or propositions of that character, as, “If it is

day, it is light.”

And simple propositions are divided into the affirmative, the negative,

the privative, the categorical, the definite, and the indefinite; those

which are not simple, are divided into the combined, and the adjunctive,

the connected and the disjunctive, and the causal and the augmentative,

and the diminutive. That is an affirmative proposition, “It is not day.”

And the species of this is doubly affirmative. That again is doubly

affirmative, which is affirmative of an affirmative, as for instance, “It

is not not day;” for this amounts to, “It is day.” That is a negative

proposition, which consists of a negative particle and a categorem, as

for instance, “No one is walking.” That is a privative proposition which

consists of a privative particle and an axiom according to power, as

“This man is inhuman.” That is a categorical proposition, which consists

of a nominative case and a categorem, as for instance, “Dion is walking.”

That is a definite proposition, which consists of a demonstrative

nominative case and a categorem, as for instance, “This man is walking.”

That is an indefinite one which consists of an indefinite particle, or

of indefinite particles, as for instance, “Somebody is walking,” “He is

moving.”

Of propositions which are not simple, the combined proposition is, as

Chrysippus states, in his Dialectics, and Diogenes, too, in his Dialectic

Art; that which is held together by the copulative conjunction “if.”

And this conjunction professes that the second member of the sentence

follows the first, as for instance, “If it is day, it is light.” That

which is adjunctive is, as Crinis states in his Dialectic Art, an axiom

which is made to depend on the conjunction “since” (ἐπεὶ), beginning

with an axiom and ending in an axiom, as for instance, “Since it is

day, it is light.” And this conjunction professes both that the second

portion of the proposition follows the first, and the first is true.

That is a connected proposition which is connected by some copulative

conjunctions, as for instance, “It both is day, and it is light.” That

is a disjunctive proposition which is disconnected by the disjunctive

conjunction, “or” (ἤτοι), as for instance, “It is either day or night.”

And this proposition professes that one or other of these propositions

is false. That is a causal proposition which is connected by the word,

“because;” as for instance, “Because it is day, it is light.” For the

first is, as it were, the cause of the second. That is an augmentative

proposition, which explains the greater, which is construed with an

augmentative particle, and which is placed between the two members of

the proposition, as for instance, “It is rather day than night.” The

diminutive proposition is, in every respect, the exact contrary of the

preceding one; as for instance, “It is less night than day.” Again, at

times, axioms or propositions are opposed to one another in respect of

their truth and falsehood, when one is an express denial of the other; as

for instance, “It is day,” and, “It is not day.”

Again, a conjunctive proposition is correct, when it is such that the

opposite of the conclusion is contradictory of the premiss; as for

instance, the proposition, “If it is day, it is light,” is true; for,

“It is not light,” which is the opposite to the conclusion expressed, is

contradictory to the premiss, “It is day.” And a conjunctive proposition

is incorrect, when it is such that the opposite of the conclusion is not

inconsistent with the premiss, as for instance, “If it is day, Dion is

walking.” For the fact that Dion is not walking, is not contradictory of

the premiss, “It is day.”

An adjunctive proposition is correct, which begins with a true premiss,

and ends in a consequence which follows of necessity, as for instance,

“Since it is day, the sun is above the earth.” But it is incorrect when

it either begins with a false premiss, or ends with a consequence which

does not follow properly; as for instance, “Since it is night, Dion is

walking,” for this may be said in the day-time.

A causal proposition is correct, when it begins with a true premiss, and

ends in a consequence which necessarily follows from it, but yet does

not have its premiss reciprocally consequent upon its conclusion; as for

instance, “Because it is day, it is light.” For the fact of its being

light, is a necessary consequence of its being day; but the fact of its

being day, is not necessarily a consequence of its being light. A causal

proposition is incorrect, which either begins with a false premiss, or

ends with a conclusion that does not follow from it, or which has a

premiss which does not correspond to the conclusion; as for instance,

“Because it is night, Dion is walking.”

A proposition is persuasive, which leads to the assent of the mind, as

for instance, “If she brought him forth, she is his mother.” But still

this is a falsehood, for a hen is not the mother of an egg. Again, there

are some propositions which are possible, and some which are impossible;

and some which are necessary, and some which are not necessary. That is

possible, which is capable of being true, since external circumstances

are no hindrance to its being true; as for instance, “Diocles lives.” And

that is impossible which is not capable of being true; as for instance,

“The earth flies.” That is necessary which, being true, is not capable

of being false; or perhaps is intrinsically capable of being false,

but still has external circumstances which hinder its being false, as

for instance, “Virtue profits a man.” That again, is not necessary,

which is true, but which has a capacity of being false, though external

circumstances offer no hindrance to either alternative; as for instance,

“Dion walks.”

That is a reasonable or probable proposition, which has a great

preponderance of opportunities in favour of its being true; as for

instance, “I shall be alive to-morrow.” And there are other different

kinds of propositions and conversions of them, from true to false, and

re-conversions again; concerning which we must speak at some length.

XLIX. An argument, as Crinis says, is that which is composed of a lemma

or major premiss, an assumption or minor premiss, and a conclusion; as

for instance this, “If it is day, it is light;” “But it is day, therefore

it is light.” For the lemma, or major premiss, is, “If it is day, it is

light.” The assumption, or minor premiss, is, “It is day.” The conclusion

follows, “Therefore it is light.” The mode of a proposition is, as it

were, a figure of an argument, as for instance, such as this, “If it is

the first, it is the second; but it is the first, therefore it is the

second.”

A conditional syllogism is that which is composed of both the preceding

arguments; as for instance, “If Plato is alive, Plato breathes; but the

first fact is so, therefore so is the second.” And this conditional

syllogism has been introduced for the sake, in long and complex

sentences, of not being forced to repeat the assumption, as it was a long

one, and also the conclusion; but of being able, instead, to content

one’s self with summing it up briefly thus, “The first case put is true,

therefore so is the second.”

Of arguments, some are conclusive, others are inconclusive. Those are

inconclusive which are such, that the opposite of the conclusion drawn

in them is not necessarily incompatible with the connection of the

premisses. As for instance, such arguments as these, “If it is day, it

is light; but it is day, therefore, Dion is walking.” But of conclusive

arguments, some are called properly by the kindred name conclusions,

and some are called syllogistic arguments. Those then are syllogistic

which are either such as do not admit of demonstration, or such as are

brought to an indemonstrable conclusion, according to some one or more

propositions; such for instance as the following: “If Dion walks, then

Dion is in motion.” Those are conclusive, which infer their conclusion

specially, and not syllogistically; such for instance, as this, “The

proposition it is both day and night is false. Now it is day; therefore,

it is not night.”

Those again, are unsyllogistic arguments which have an air of

probability about them, and a resemblance to syllogistic ones, but

which still do not lead to the deduction of proper conclusions. As for

instance, “If Dion is a horse, Dion is an animal; but Dion is not a

horse, therefore, Dion is not an animal.”

Again, of arguments, some are true, and some are false. Those are true

which deduce a conclusion from true premisses, as, for instance, “If

virtue profits, then vice injures.” And those are false which have

some falsehood in their premisses, or which are inconclusive; as, for

instance, “If it is day, it is light; but it is day, therefore, Dion is

alive.”

There are also arguments which are possible, and others which are

impossible; some likewise which are necessary, and others which are not

necessary. There are too, some which are not demonstrated from their not

standing in need of demonstration, and these are laid down differently

by different people; but Chrysippus enumerates five kinds, which serve

as the foundation for every kind of argument; and which are assumed in

conclusive arguments properly so called, and in syllogisms, and in modes.

The first kind that is not demonstrated, is that in which the whole

argument consists of a conjunctive and an antecedent; and in which

the first term repeats itself so as to form a sort of conjunctive

proposition, and to bring forward as the conclusion the last term. As,

for instance, “If the first be true, so is the second; but the first

is true, therefore, so is the second.” The second kind that is not

demonstrated, is that which, by means of the conjunctive and the opposite

of the conclusion, has a conclusion opposite to the first premiss. As,

for instance, “If it be day, it is light; but it is night, therefore it

is not day.” For here the assumption arises from the opposite of the

conclusion, and the conclusion from the opposite of the first term.

The third kind that is not demonstrative, is that which, by a negative

combination, and by one of the terms in the proposition, produces the

contradictory of the remainder; as, for instance, “Plato is not dead and

alive at the same time but Plato is dead; therefore, Plato is not alive.”

The fourth kind that is not demonstrative, is that which, by means of a

disjunctive, and one of those terms which are in the disjunctive, has

a conclusion opposite to what remains; as, for instance, “It is either

the first, or the second; but it is the first; therefore, it is not the

second.” The fifth kind that is not demonstrative, is that in which the

whole argument consists of a disjunctive proposition, and the opposite of

one of the terms, and then one makes the conclusion identical with the

remainder; as, for instance, “It is either day or night; but it is not

night; therefore it is day.”

According to the Stoics, truth follows upon truth, as “It is light,”

follows upon “It is day.” And falsehood follows upon falsehood; as,

“If it is false that it is night, it is also false that it is dark.”

Sometimes too, truth follows from falsehood; for instance, though it is

false that “the earth flies,” it is true that “there is the earth.” But

falsehood does never follow from truth; for, from the fact that “there is

the earth,” it does not follow “that the earth flies.”

There are also some arguments which are perplexed, being veiled and

escaping notice; or such as are called sorites, the horned one, or the

nobody. That is a veiled argument[88] which resembles the following one;

“two are not a few, nor three, nor those, nor four, and so on to ten; but

two are few; therefore, so are ten few.”

The nobody is a conjunctive argument, and one that consists of the

indefinite and the definite, and which has a minor premiss and a

conclusion; as, for instance, “If any one is here, he is not in Rhodes.”

L. Such then are the doctrines which the Stoics maintain on the subject

of logic, in order as far as possible to establish their point that the

logician is the only wise man. For they assert that all affairs are

looked at by means of that speculation which proceeds by argument,

including under this assertion both those that belong to natural and also

those which belong to moral philosophy: for, say they, how else could one

determine the exact value of nouns, or how else could one explain what

laws are imposed upon such and such actions? Moreover, as there are two

habits both incidental to virtue, the one considers what each existing

thing is, and the other inquires what it is called. These then are the

notions of the Stoics on the subject of logic.

LI. The ethical part of philosophy they divide into the topic of

inclination, the topic of good and bad, the topic of the passions, the

topic of virtue, the topic of the chief good, and of primary estimation,

and of actions; the topic of what things are becoming, and of exhortation

and dissuasion. And this division is the one laid down by Chrysippus,

and Archedemus, and Zeno, of Tarsus, and Apollodorus, and Diogenes, and

Antipater, and Posidonius. For Zeno, of Cittium, and Cleanthes, have, as

being more ancient they were likely to, adopted a more simple method of

treating these subjects. But these men divided logical and the natural

philosophy.

LII. They say that the first inclination which an animal has is to

protect itself, as nature brings herself to take an interest in it from

the beginning, as Chrysippus affirms in the first book of his treatise on

Ends; where he says, that the first and dearest object to every animal

is its own existence, and its consciousness of that existence. For that

it is not natural for any animal to be alienated from itself, or even

to be brought into such a state as to be indifferent to itself, being

neither alienated from nor interested in itself. It remains, therefore,

that we must assert that nature has bound the animal to itself by the

greatest unanimity and affection; for by that means it repels all that

is injurious, and attracts all that is akin to it and desirable. But as

for what some people say, that the first inclination of animals is to

pleasure, they say what is false. For they say that pleasure, if there

be any such thing at all, is an accessory only, which, nature, having

sought it out by itself, as well as those things which are adapted to its

constitution, receives incidentally in the same manner as animals are

pleased, and plants made to flourish.

Moreover, say they, nature makes no difference between animals and

plants, when she regulates them so as to leave them without voluntary

motion or sense; and some things too take place in ourselves in the same

manner as in plants. But, as inclination in animals tends chiefly to the

point of making them pursue what is appropriate to them, we may say that

their inclinations are regulated by nature. And as reason is given to

rational animals according to a more perfect principle, it follows, that

to live correctly according to reason, is properly predicated of those

who live according to nature. For nature is as it were the artist who

produces the inclination.

LIII. On which account Zeno was the first writer who, in his treatise

on the Nature of Man, said, that the chief good was confessedly to live

according to nature; which is to live according to virtue, for nature

leads us to this point. And in like manner Cleanthes speaks in his

treatise on Pleasure, and so do Posidonius and Hecaton in their essays

on Ends as the Chief Good. And again, to live according to virtue is

the same thing as living according to one’s experience of those things

which happen by nature; as Chrysippus explains it in the first book of

his treatise on the Chief Good. For our individual natures are all parts

of universal nature; on which account the chief good is to live in a

manner corresponding to nature, and that means corresponding to one’s

own nature and to universal nature; doing none of those things which the

common law of mankind is in the habit of forbidding, and that common law

is identical with that right reason which pervades everything, being the

same with Jupiter, who is the regulator and chief manager of all existing

things.

Again, this very thing is the virtue of the happy man and the perfect

happiness of life when everything is done according to a harmony

with the genius of each individual with reference to the will of the

universal governor and manager of all things. Diogenes, accordingly, says

expressly that the chief good is to act according to sound reason in our

selection of things according to our nature. And Archedemus defines it

to be living in the discharge of all becoming duties. Chrysippus again

understands that the nature, in a manner corresponding to which we ought

to live, is both the common nature, and also human nature in particular;

but Cleanthes will not admit of any other nature than the common one

alone, as that to which people ought to live in a manner corresponding;

and repudiates all mention of a particular nature. And he asserts

that virtue is a disposition of the mind always consistent and always

harmonious; that one ought to seek it out for its own sake, without being

influenced by fear or hope by any external influence. Moreover, that it

is in it that happiness consists, as producing in the soul the harmony

of a life always consistent with itself; and that if a rational animal

goes the wrong way, it is because it allows itself to be misled by the

deceitful appearances of exterior things, or perhaps by the instigation

of those who surround it; for nature herself never gives us any but good

inclinations.

LIV. Now virtue is, to speak generally, a perfection in everything, as

in the case of a statue; whether it is invisible as good health, or

speculative as prudence. For Hecaton says, in the first book of his

treatise on Virtues, that the scientific and speculative virtues are

those which have a constitution arising from speculation and study,

as, for instance, prudence and justice; and that those which are not

speculative are those which are generally viewed in their extension as a

practical result or effect of the former; such for instance, as health

and strength. Accordingly, temperance is one of the speculative virtues,

and it happens that good health usually follows it, and is marshalled

as it were beside it; in the same way as strength follows the proper

structure of an arch.—And the unspeculative virtues derive their name

from the fact of their not proceeding from any acquiescence reflected by

intelligence; but they are derived from others, are only accessories,

and are found even in worthless people, as in the case of good health,

or courage. And Posidonius, in the first book of his treaties on Ethics,

says that the great proof of the reality of virtue is that Socrates, and

Diogenes, and Antisthenes, made great improvement; and the great proof

of the reality of vice may be found in the fact of its being opposed to

virtue.

Again, Chrysippus, in the first book of his treatise on the Chief Good,

and Cleanthes, and also Posidonius in his Exhortations, and Hecaton, all

agree that virtue may be taught. And that they are right, and that it

may be taught, is plain from men becoming good after having been bad. On

this account Panætius teaches that there are two virtues, one speculative

and the other practical; but others make three kinds, the logical, the

natural, and the ethical. Posidonius divides virtue into four divisions;

and Cleanthes, Chrysippus, and Antipater make the divisions more numerous

still; for Apollophanes asserts that there is but one virtue, namely,

prudence.

Among the virtues some are primitive and some are derived. The

primitive ones are prudence, manly courage, justice, and temperance.

And subordinate to these, as a kind of species contained in them, are

magnanimity, continence, endurance, presence of mind, wisdom in council.

And the Stoics define prudence as a knowledge of what is good, and bad,

and indifferent; justice as a knowledge of what ought to be chosen, what

ought to be avoided, and what is indifferent; magnanimity as a knowledge

of engendering a lofty habit, superior to all such accidents as happen

to all men indifferently, whether they be good or bad; continence they

consider a disposition which never abandons right reason, or a habit

which never yields to pleasure; endurance they call a knowledge or habit

by which we understand what we ought to endure, what we ought not, and

what is indifferent; presence of mind they define as a habit which is

prompt at finding out what is suitable on a sudden emergency; and wisdom

in counsel they think a knowledge which leads us to judge what we are to

do, and how we are to do it, in order to act becomingly. And analogously,

of vices too there are some which are primary, and some which are

subordinate; as, for instance, folly, and cowardice, and injustice, and

intemperance, are among the primary vices; incontinence, slowness, and

folly in counsel among the subordinate ones. And the vices are ignorance

of those things of which the virtues are the knowledge.

LV. Good, looked at in a general way, is some advantage, with the more

particular distinction, being partly what is actually useful, partly

what is not contrary to utility. On which account virtue itself, and the

good which partakes of virtue are spoken of in a threefold view of the

subject. First, as to what kind of good it is, and from what it ensues;

as, for instance, in an action done according to virtue. Secondly, as to

the agent, in the case of a good man who partakes of virtue.…[89]

At another time, they define the good in a peculiar manner, as being what

is perfect according to the nature of a rational being as rational being.

And, secondly, they say that it is conformity to virtue, so that all

actions which partake of virtue, and all good men, are themselves in some

sense the good. And in the third place, they speak of its accessories,

joy, and mirth, and things of that kind. In the same manner they speak of

vices, which they divide into folly, cowardice, injustice, and things of

that kind. And they consider that those things which partake of vices,

and actions done according to vice, and bad men, are themselves in some

sense the evil; and its accessories are despondency, and melancholy, and

other things of that kind.

LVI. Again, of goods, some have reference to the mind, and some are

external; and some neither have reference to the mind, nor are external.

The goods having reference to the mind are virtues, and actions according

to the virtues. The external goods are the having a virtuous country, a

virtuous friend, and the happiness of one’s country and friend. And those

which are not external, and which have no reference to the mind, are

such as a man’s being virtuous and happy to himself. And reciprocally,

of evils, some have reference to the mind, such as the vices and actions

according to them; some are external, such as having a foolish country,

or a foolish friend, or one’s country or one’s friend being unhappy. And

those evils which are not external, and which have no reference to the

mind, are such as a man’s being worthless and unhappy to himself.

LVII. Again, of goods, some are final, some are efficient, and some are

both final and efficient. For instance, a friend, and the services

done by him to one, are efficient goods; but courage, and prudence, and

liberty, and delight, and mirth, and freedom from pain, and all kinds of

actions done according to virtue, are final goods. There are too, as I

said before, some goods which are both efficient and final; for inasmuch

as they produce perfect happiness they are efficient, and inasmuch as

they complete it by being themselves parts of it, they are final. And

in the same way, of evils, some are final, and some efficient, and some

partake of both natures. For instance, an enemy and the injuries done to

one by him, are efficient evils; fear, meanness of condition, slavery,

want of delight, depression of spirits, excessive grief, and all actions

done according to vice, are final evils; and some partake of both

characters, since, inasmuch as they produce perfect unhappiness, they are

efficient; and inasmuch as they complete it in such a way as to become

parts of it, they are final.

LVIII. Again, of the goods which have reference to the mind, some

are habits, some are dispositions, and some are neither habits nor

dispositions. Dispositions are virtues, habits are practices, and those

which are neither habits nor dispositions are energies. And, speaking

generally, the following may be called mixed goods: happiness in one’s

children, and a happy old age. But knowledge is a pure good. And some

goods are continually present, such as virtue; and some are not always

present, as joy, or taking a walk.

LIX. But every good is expedient, and necessary, and profitable, and

useful, and serviceable, and beautiful, and advantageous, and eligible,

and just. Expedient, inasmuch as it brings us things, which by their

happening to us do us good; necessary, inasmuch as it assists us in

what we have need to be assisted; profitable, inasmuch as it repays all

the care that is expended on it, and makes a return with interest to

our great advantage; useful, inasmuch as it supplies us with what is of

utility; serviceable, because it does us service which is much praised;

beautiful, because it is in accurate proportion to the need we have of

it, and to the service it does. Advantageous, inasmuch as it is of such a

character as to confer advantage on us; eligible, because it is such that

we may rationally choose it; and just, because it is in accordance with

law, and is an efficient cause of union.

And they call the honourable the perfect good, because it has naturally

all the numbers which are required by nature, and because it discloses

a perfect harmony. Now, the species of this perfect good are four in

number: justice, manly courage, temperance, and knowledge; for in these

goods all beautiful actions have their accomplishment. And analogously,

there are also four species of the disgraceful: injustice, and cowardice,

and intemperance, and folly. And the honourable is predicated in one

sense, as making those who are possessed of it worthy of all praise; and

in a second sense, it is used of what is well adapted by nature for its

proper work; and in another sense, when it expresses that which adorns a

man, as when we say that the wise man alone is good and honourable.

The Stoics also say, that the beautiful is the only good, as Hecaton

says, in the third book of his treatise on Goods, and Chrysippus asserts

the same principle in his essays on the Beautiful. And they say that this

is virtue, and that which partakes of virtue; and this assertion is equal

to the other, that everything good is beautiful, and that the good is an

equivalent term to the beautiful, inasmuch as the one thing is exactly

equal to the other. For since it is good, it is beautiful; and it is

beautiful, therefore, it is good.

LX. But it seems that all goods are equal, and that every good is to be

desired in the highest degree, and that it admits of no relaxation, and

of no extension. Moreover, they divide all existing things into good,

bad, and indifferent. The good are the virtues, prudence, justice, manly

courage, temperance, and the rest of the like qualities. The bad are the

contraries, folly, injustice, and the like. Those are indifferent which

are neither beneficial nor injurious, such as life, health, pleasure,

beauty, strength, riches, a good reputation, nobility of birth; and their

contraries, death, disease, labour, disgrace, weakness, poverty, a bad

reputation, baseness of birth, and the like; as Hecaton lays it down in

the seventh book of his treatise on the Chief Good; and he is followed by

Apollodorus, in his Ethics, and by Chrysippus. For they affirm that those

things are not good but indifferent, though perhaps a little more near to

one species than to the other.

For, as it is the property of the hot to warm and not to chill one, so

it is the property of the good to benefit and not to injure one. Now,

wealth and good health cannot be said to benefit any more than to injure

any one: therefore, neither wealth nor good health are goods. Again,

they say that that thing is not good which it is possible to use both

well and ill. But it is possible to make either a good or a bad use of

wealth, or of health; therefore, wealth and good health are not goods.

Posidonius, however, affirms that these things do come under the head of

goods. But Hecaton, in the nineteenth book of his treatise on Goods, and

Chrysippus, in his treatises on Pleasure, both deny that pleasure is a

good. For they say that there are disgraceful pleasures, and that nothing

disgraceful is good. And that to benefit a person is to move him or to

keep him according to virtue, but to injure him is to move him or to keep

him according to vice.

They also assert, that things indifferent are so spoken of in a twofold

manner; firstly, those things are called so, which have no influence in

producing either happiness or unhappiness; such for instance, as riches,

glory, health, strength, and the like; for it is possible for a man to

be happy without any of these things; and also, it is upon the character

of the use that is made of them, that happiness or unhappiness depends.

In another sense, those things are called indifferent, which do not

excite any inclination or aversion, as for instance, the fact of a man’s

having an odd or an even number of hairs on his head, or his putting

out or drawing back his finger; for it is not in this sense that the

things previously mentioned are called indifferent, for they do excite

inclination or aversion. On which account some of them are chosen, though

there is equal reason for preferring or shunning all the others.