The strongest argument in favour of Epicureanism is that the

development of the system does not pretend to rest upon an intellectual

platform. Epicurus sought in philosophy a path to happiness, a school

of practical wisdom. For him knowledge has only a secondary value,

because it contributes to this end; indeed, both the tone and the

results of his intellectual activity were determined by a reference to

this end. In the case of the Stoics, however, it has been already seen

that the comparative subordination of Logic and Natural Science to

Moral Science, the going back to the older view of nature, the

vindication of the truth of the senses and of the reality of matter,

grew out of their peculiarly one-sided view of the scope of philosophy.

In the case of Epicurus the same results appear, and all the more

markedly, since Epicurus did not, like the Stoics, look for happiness

in subordination to a universal law, but in individual gratification or

pleasure. For him the recognition of a universal law had not the same

importance as for the Stoics; and consequently Epicurus did not feel

the same need of a scientific method as they had done. He could

therefore more exclusively content himself with the impressions of the

senses, and regard them as the only unfailing source of knowledge. No

necessity compelled him to advance from pure materialism to a view of

matter in which it is described as possessing a soul, and made to be

the bearer of reason. In fact, the more exclusively everything was

referred by him to mechanical causes, the more easily could he regard

the individual as independent of all superhuman forces in his pursuit

of happiness, and left entirely to himself and his natural powers. No

system in ancient times has so consistently carried out the mechanical

view of nature as that of the Atomists. None, therefore, afforded such

a strong metaphysical support to the Epicurean views of the absolute

worth of the individual. It was as natural for Epicurus to build on the

teaching of Democritus as for the Stoics to build on that of

Heraclitus. But Epicurus, influenced probably more by practical than by

scientific considerations, allowed himself, by his theory of the

swerving aside of atoms, to destroy the consistency of the theory of

Democritus. [1378]

It is hardly necessary to notice here how the distinctive features of

the Epicurean morals were developed out of their theory of happiness,

in contrast to the Stoic teaching. The happiness of Epicurus, however,

does not depend upon sensual gratification as such, but upon repose of

mind and cheerfulness of disposition. His theory of morals, therefore,

notwithstanding its foundation in pleasure, bears a nobler character,

which is seen in its language as to the wise man’s relations to the

pains and passions of the body, to poverty and riches, to life and

death, quite as much as in the mild humanity and the warm and hearty

appreciation of friendship by the Epicurean School. The rationalising

spirit of that School was undoubtedly opposed to any religious belief

which supposed an intervention of God in the course of the world, or

the world’s influence on man for weal or woe; but its appeal to the

senses without criticism placed no objection in the way of admitting

divine beings, from whom no such intervention need be feared. Nay,

more, this belief seemed the most natural ground for explaining the

popular belief in Gods. It satisfied an inborn and apparently keenly

felt want by supplying an appropriate object of devotion, and a

standard by which to test the accuracy of moral ideas. Hence,

notwithstanding scientific defects and contradictions, the whole system

of Epicurus bears a definite stamp. All the essential parts of that

system are subservient to one and the same end. The consistent working

out of a scientific view of nature is looked for in vain; but there is

no lack of consistency arising from an undeniable reference of the

individual to a definite and practical standard.

[B. Historical position of Epicureanism.]

[(1) Relation to Stoicism.]

Looking to the wider historical relations of the Epicurean system, the

first point which calls for remark is the relation of that system to

Stoicism. The contrast between the two Schools is obvious; attention

having been already drawn to it on all the more important points. It is

likewise well known that a constant rivalry existed between the two

Schools during their whole careers, that the Stoics looked down on the

Epicureans, and circulated many calumnies with respect to their morals.

For these statements proofs may be found in the preceding pages.

Nevertheless, the two Schools are related in so many respects, that

they can only be regarded as parallel links connected in one chain,

their differences being varieties where the same main tendency

[(a) Points of agreement.]

exists. Both agree in the general character of their philosophy. In

both practical considerations prevail over speculation. Both treat

natural science and logic as sciences subsidiary to ethics—natural

science especially in view of its bearing on religion. Both attach more

importance to natural science than to logic. If the Epicurean neglect

of scientific rules forms a contrast to the care which the Stoics

devoted thereto, both Schools are at least agreed in one thing—in

displaying greater independence in investigating the question as to a

test of truth. By both this standard was placed in the senses; and to

all appearances both were led to take this view by the same cause;

appeals to the senses being a consequence of their purely practical way

of looking at things. Both, moreover, employed against scepticism the

same practical postulate—the argument that knowledge must be possible,

or no certainty of action would be possible. They even agree in not

being content with the phenomena supplied by the senses as such,

although Epicurus as little approved of the Stoic theory of

irresistible impressions as he did of their logical analysis of the

forms of thought. With such appeals to the senses how could there be

any other result than materialism both in the Stoic and Epicurean

systems? But it is strange that the materialism in both Schools should

be based on the same definition of reality, corresponding with their

practical way of looking at things. [1379]

[(b) Points of difference.]

In the unfolding and detailed exposition of their materialistic views

the systems diverge, more widely, perhaps, than the philosophers

themselves, whose leading they professed to follow. These divergencies

appear particularly on the subject of nature, the Stoics regarding

nature as a system of design, the Epicureans explaining it as a

mechanical product. Whilst the Stoics adhered to fatalism, and saw God

everywhere, the Epicureans held the theory of atoms, and the theory of

necessity. Whilst the Stoics were speculatively orthodox, the

Epicureans were irreligious freethinkers. Both meet again in that

branch of natural science which is most important in respect of

morals—the part dealing with man. Both hold that the soul is a fiery

atmospheric substance. Even the proof for this view, derived from the

mutual influence of body and soul, is common to both. Both distinguish

between the higher and the lower parts of the soul, and thus even the

Epicureans in their psychology allow a belief in the superiority of

reason to the senses, and in the divine origin of the soul.

The arena of the warmest dispute between the two Schools is, however,

ethics. Yet, even on this ground, they are more nearly related than

appears at first sight. No greater contrast appears to be possible than

that between the Epicurean theory of pleasure and the Stoic theory of

virtue; and true it is that the two theories are diametrically

opposite. Nevertheless, not only are both aiming at one and the same

end—the happiness of mankind—but the conditions of happiness are also

laid down by both in the same spirit. According to Zeno virtue,

according to Epicurus pleasure, is the highest and only good; but the

former in making virtue consist essentially in withdrawal from the

senses or insensibility; the latter in seeking pleasure in repose of

mind or imperturbability, are expressing the same belief. Man can only

find unconditional and enduring satisfaction, when by means of

knowledge he attains to a condition of mind at rest with itself, and

also to an independence of external attractions and misfortunes. The

same unlimited appeal to personal truth is the common groundwork of

both systems. Both have expanded this idea under the same form—that of

the ideal wise man—for the most part with the same features. The wise

man of Epicurus is, as we have seen, superior to pain and want; he

enjoys an excellence which cannot be lost; and he lives among men a

very God in intelligence and happiness. Thus, when worked out into

details, the difference in the estimate of pleasure and virtue by the

Stoics and Epicureans seems to vanish. Neither the Stoic can separate

happiness from virtue, nor the Epicurean separate virtue from

happiness.

But, whilst recommending a living for society, both systems take no

real interest in social life. The recognition of a natural society

amongst mankind, of certain positive relations to state and family,

above all, a clear enunciation of a citizenship of the world,

characterise the Stoics. The pursuit of friendship, and the gentle

humanity of their ethics, characterise the Epicureans. Together with

these peculiarities one common feature cannot be ignored. Both have

renounced the political character of the old propriety of conduct, and

diverting their attention from public life, seek to find a basis for

universal morality in the simple relation of man to man.

[(c) The relationship greater than the difference.]

The united weight of all these points of resemblance is sufficient to

warrant the assertion that, notwithstanding their differences, the

Stoics and Epicureans stand on the same footing, and that the sharpness

of the contrast between them is owing to their laying hold of opposite

sides of one and the same principle. Abstract personality, and

self-consciousness developed into a generic idea, is for both the

highest aim. Compared with it not only the state of the senses, but the

scientific knowledge of things, and the realisation of moral ideas in a

commonwealth, are of minor importance. In this self-consciousness

happiness consists. To implant it in man is the object of philosophy,

and knowledge is only of value when and in as far as it ministers to

this end. The point of difference between the two Schools is their view

of the conditions under which that certainty of consciousness is

attained. The Stoics hope to attain it by the entire subordination of

the individual to universal law. The Epicureans, on the other hand, are

of opinion that man can only then be content in himself when he is

restrained by nothing external to himself. The first condition of

happiness consists in liberating individual life from all dependence on

others, and all disturbing causes. The former, therefore, make virtue,

the latter make personal well-being or pleasure, the highest good. By

the Epicureans, however, pleasure is usually conceived as of a purely

negative character, as being freedom from pain, and is referred to the

whole of human life. Hence it is always made to depend on the

moderation of desires, on indifference to outward ills, and the state

of the senses, on intelligence and actions conformable with

intelligence, in short, on virtue and wisdom. Hence, too, the

Epicureans arrive by a roundabout course at the same result as the

Stoics—the conviction that happiness can only be the lot of those who

are altogether independent of external things, and enjoy perfect inward

harmony.

[(2) Relation to Aristippus.]

Towards the older philosophy Epicureanism bears nearly the same

relation as Stoicism. True it is that Epicurus and his School would not

recognise their obligation to either one or other of their

predecessors. [1380] But far from disproving the influence of previous

systems on his own, this conduct only shows the personal vanity of

Epicurus. Epicureanism, like Stoicism, starts with the object of

bringing down science from metaphysical speculation to the simpler form

of a practical science of life. Both systems of philosophy, therefore,

turn away from Plato and Aristotle, whose labours they notably neglect,

to Socrates and those Socratic Schools which, without more extensive

meddling with science, are content with ethics. Circumstances, however,

led Epicurus to follow Aristippus as Zeno had followed Antisthenes. Not

only in morals did Epicurus derive his principle of pleasure from the

Cyrenaics; he likewise derived from them his theory of knowledge, that

the sense-impressions are the only source of ideas, and that every

feeling is true in itself. Nor can he altogether deny that feelings

only furnish direct information respecting our personal states, and

respecting the relative properties of things. With the Cyrenaics, too,

he taught that true pleasure can only be secured by philosophic

intelligence, and that this intelligence aims, before all things, at

liberating the mind from passion, fear, and superstition. At the same

time, he is by no means prepared to follow the Cyrenaics unreservedly.

His theory of morals differs, as has already been seen, from the

Cyrenaic theory in this important particular, that not sensual and

individual pleasure, but mental repose and the whole state of the mind

is regarded as the ultimate end, and the highest good in life. It was

thus impossible for him to be content, as the Cyrenaics were, with

feelings only, with individual and personal impressions. He could not

help requiring conviction which reposed on a real knowledge of things,

since only on such conviction can an equable and certain tone of mind

depend.

[(3) Relation to Democritus.]

Epicurus, therefore, not only differed from Aristippus with regard to

feelings, by referring all feelings to impressions from without, of

which he considered them true representations, but he felt himself

called upon to oppose the Cyrenaic contempt for theories of nature,

just as the Stoics had opposed the Cynic contempt for science. To the

physics of Democritus he looked for a scientific basis for his ethics,

just as they had looked to the system of Heraclitus. But the closer he

clung to Democritus, owing to the weakness of his own interest in

nature, the more it becomes apparent that his whole study of nature was

subservient to a moral purpose, and hence of a purely relative value.

Accordingly, he had not the least hesitation in setting consistency at

defiance, by assuming the swerving aside of atoms and the freedom of

the will. It is not only altogether improbable that Epicurus was but a

second edition of Democritus—for history knows of no such

repetitions—but as a matter of fact it is false. Closer observation

proves that even when the two philosophers agree in individual

statements, the meaning which they attach to these assertions and the

whole spirit of their systems are widely divergent. Democritus aims at

explaining natural phenomena by natural causes. He wishes, in short,

for a science of nature purely for its own sake. Epicurus wishes for a

view of nature which shall be able to avert disturbing influences from

man’s inner life. Natural science stands with him entirely in the

service of ethics. If in point of substance his system is borrowed from

another system, yet its whole position and treatment supposes an

entirely new view of things. The Socratic introspection, and the

Sophistic resolution of natural philosophy into personal rationalising,

are its historical antecedents; and it owes its existence to that

general dislike for pure theory, which constitutes the common

peculiarity of all the post-Aristotelian systems.

[(4) Relation to Aristotle and Plato.]

Excepting the systems named, Epicureanism, so far as is known, is

connected with no other previous system. Even its attack upon those

systems appears to have consisted of general dogmatic and superficial

statements. Still it must not be forgotten that Epicureanism

presupposes the line of thought originated by Socrates, not only as

found in the collateral Cyrenaic branch, but as found in the main line

of regular development by Plato and Aristotle. The view of Plato and

Aristotle, which distinguishes the immaterial essence from the sensible

appearance of things, and attributes reality only to the former, is

undoubtedly attacked by Epicurus as by Zeno, on metaphysical grounds.

Practically, however, he approaches very much nearer to this view in

all those points in which his teaching deviates from the Cyrenaic and

resembles that of the Stoics.

It has been observed on a former occasion that the indifference to the

immediate conditions of the senses, the withdrawal of the mind within

itself, the contentment with itself of the thinking subject, which

Epicurus no less than the Stoics and cotemporary Sceptics required, is

itself a consequence of the idealism of Plato and Aristotle. Even the

materialism of the post-Aristotelian systems, it is said, was by no

means a going back to the old pre-Socratic philosophy of nature, but a

one-sided practical apprehension of that idealism. These systems deny a

soul in nature or a soul in man, because they look exclusively to

consciousness and to personal activity for independence of the senses.

The correctness of this observation may be easily proved from the

Epicurean teaching, notwithstanding the severity and harshness of its

materialism. Why was it that Epicurus relentlessly banished from nature

all immaterial causes and all idea of purpose? And why did he confine

himself exclusively to a mechanical explanation of nature? Was it not

because he felt afraid that the admission of any other than material

causes would imperil the certainty of consciousness; because he feared

to lose the firm groundwork of reality by admitting invisible forces,

and to expose human life to influences beyond calculation if he allowed

anything immaterial? Yet in his view of life, how little does he adhere

to present facts, since his wise man is made to enjoy perfect happiness

by himself alone, independent of everything external. The same ideal is

reproduced in the Epicurean Gods. In their isolated contemplation of

themselves, what else do they resemble but the God of Aristotle, who,

aloof from all intermeddling with the world, meditates on himself

alone? No doubt the independent existence of the thinking mind is held

by Aristotle in a clear and dignified manner. By Epicurus it is

pourtrayed in a sensuous, and, therefore, a contradictory form. But the

connection of the views of both cannot be ignored. There is a similar

general relation between the Epicurean philosophy and that of Plato and

Aristotle. [1381] Little as the former can be compared with the latter

in breadth and depth, it must not, therefore, be regarded as an

intellectual monstrosity. Epicureanism is a tenable though one-sided

expression of a certain stage in the development of the intellect of

Greece.

PART IV.

THE SCEPTICS—PYRRHO AND THE OLDER ACADEMY.

CHAPTER XXII.

PYRRHO.

[A. Historical position of Scepticism.]

Stoicism and Epicureanism are alike in one respect: they commence the

pursuit of happiness with definite dogmatic statements. The Sceptic

Schools, however, attempt to reach the same end by denying every

dogmatic position. Varied as the paths may be, the result is in all

cases the same; happiness is made to consist in the exaltation of the

mind above all external objects, in the withdrawal of man within his

own thinking self. Moving in the same sphere

[(1) Its relation to cotemporary dogmatic systems.]

as the cotemporary dogmatic systems, the post-Aristotelian Scepticism

takes a practical view of the business of philosophy, and estimates the

value of theoretical enquiries by their influence on the state and

happiness of man. It moreover agrees with cotemporary systems in its

ethical view of life; the object at which it aims is the same as that

at which those systems aim, viz. repose of mind, and imperturbability.

It differs from them, none the less; for the Epicureans and Stoics made

mental repose to depend on a knowledge of the world and its laws,

whereas the Sceptics are of opinion that it can only be obtained by

despairing of all knowledge. Hence, with the former morality depends on

a positive conviction as to the highest Good; with the latter, morality

consists in indifference to all that appears as Good to men. Important

as this difference may be, it must not therefore be forgotten that

Scepticism generally revolves in the same sphere as Stoicism and

Epicureanism, and that in renouncing all claim to knowledge, and all

interest in the external world, it is only pushing to extremes that

withdrawal of man into himself which we have seen to be the common

feature of these Schools. Not only, therefore, do these three lines of

thought belong to one and the same epoch, but such is their internal

connection that they may be regarded as three branches of a common

stock.

[(2) Causes producing it.]

More than one point of departure was offered to Scepticism by the

earlier philosophy. The Megarian criticism and the Cynic teaching had

taken up a position subversive of all connection of ideas, and of all

knowledge. Pyrrho, too, had received from the School of Democritus an

impulse to doubt. [1382] In particular, the development of the Platonic

and Aristotelian speculations by those who were not able to follow

them, had made men mistrustful of all speculation, until they at last

doubted the possibility of all knowledge. Not seldom do Sceptical

theories follow times of great philosophical originality. A stronger

impulse was given in the sequel by the Stoic and Epicurean systems.

Related to Scepticism by their practical tone, it was natural that

these systems should afford fuel to Scepticism. At the same time the

unsatisfactory groundwork upon which they were built, and the contrast

between their moral and physical teaching, promoted destructive

criticism. If, according to the Stoics and Epicureans, the particular

and the universal elements in the personal soul, the isolation of the

individual as an independent atom, and his being merged in a

pantheistic universe, are contrasted without being reconciled; among

the Sceptics this contrast has given place to neutrality. Neither the

Stoic nor the Epicurean theory can claim our adherence; neither the

unconditional value of pleasure, nor yet the unconditional value of

virtue; neither the truth of the senses nor the truth of rational

knowledge; neither the Atomist’s view of nature, nor the Pantheistic

view as it found expression in Heraclitus. The only thing which remains

certain amid universal uncertainty is abstract personality content with

itself, personality forming at once the starting-point and the goal of

the two contending systems.

The important back-influence of Stoicism and Epicureanism upon

Scepticism may be best gathered from the fact that Scepticism only

attained a wide extension and a more comprehensive basis in the New

Academy after the appearance of those systems. Before that time its

leading features had been indeed laid down by Pyrrho, but they had

never been developed into a permanent School of Scepticism, nor given

rise to an expanded theory of doubt.

[(3) Pyrrho and his followers.]

Pyrrho was a native of Elis, [1383] and may therefore have early made

the acquaintance of the Elean and Megarian criticism—that criticism, in

fact, which was the precursor of subsequent Scepticism. It can,

however, hardly be true that Bryso was his instructor. [1384] To

Anaxarchus, a follower of Democritus, he attached himself, and

accompanied that philosopher with Alexander’s army as far as India.

[1385] Perhaps, however, he is less indebted to Anaxarchus for the

sceptical than for the ethical parts of his teaching. [1386] At a later

period he resided in his native city, [1387] honoured by his

fellow-citizens, [1388] but in poor circumstances, [1389] which he bore

with his characteristic repose of mind. [1390] He died, it would

appear, at an advanced age, [1391] between 275 and 270 B.C., leaving no

writings behind. [1392] Even the ancients, therefore, only knew his

teaching by that of his pupils, among whom Timon of Phlius was the most

distinguished. [1393] Besides Timon several other of his pupils are

known by name. [1394] His School, however, was short-lived. [1395] Soon

after Timon it seems to have become extinct. [1396] Those who were

disposed to be sceptical now joined the New Academy, towards whose

founder even Timon made no secret of his grudge. [1397]

[B. Teaching of Pyrrho.]

[(1) Impossibility of knowledge.]

The little which is known of Pyrrho’s teaching may be summed up in the

three following statements: We can know nothing as to the nature of

things: Hence the right attitude towards them is to withhold judgment:

The necessary result of suspending judgment is imperturbability. He who

will live happily—for happiness is the starting-point with the

Sceptics—must, according to Timon, take these things into

consideration: What is the nature of things? What ought our attitude to

things to be? What is the gain resulting from these relations? [1398]

To the first of these three questions Pyrrho can only reply by saying

that things are altogether inaccessible to knowledge, and that whatever

property may be attributed to a thing, with equal justice the opposite

may be predicated. [1399] In support of this statement Pyrrho appears

to have argued that neither the senses nor reason furnish certain

knowledge. [1400] The senses do not show things as they are, but only

as they appear to be. [1401] Rational knowledge, even where it seems to

be most certain, in the sphere of morals, does not depend upon real

knowledge, but only upon tradition and habit. [1402] Against every

statement the opposite may be advanced with equal justice. [1403] If,

however, neither the senses nor reason alone can furnish trustworthy

testimony, no more can the two combined, and thus the third way is

barred, by which we might possibly have advanced to knowledge. [1404]

How many more of the arguments quoted by the later Sceptics belong to

Pyrrho it is impossible to say. The short duration and diffusion of

Pyrrho’s School renders it probable that with him Scepticism was not

far advanced. The same result appears to follow from its further

development in the Academy. The ten τρόποι, or aspects under which

sceptical objections were grouped, cannot with certainty be attributed

to any one before Ænesidemus. [1405] Portions of the arguments used at

a later day may be borrowed from Pyrrho and his pupils, [1406] but it

is impossible to discriminate these portions with certainty.

[(2) Withholding of judgment.]

Thus, if knowledge of things proves to be a failure, there only remains

as possible an attitude of pure Scepticism; and therein is contained

the answer to the second question. We know nothing whatever of the real

nature of things, and hence can neither believe nor assert anything as

to their nature. We cannot say of anything that it is or is not; but we

must abstain from every opinion, allowing that of all which appears to

us to be true, the opposite may with equal justice be true. [1407]

Accordingly, all our statements (as the Cyrenaics taught) only express

individual opinions, and not absolute realities. We cannot deny that

things appear to be of this or the other kind; but we can never say

that they are so. [1408] Even the assertion that things are of this or

the other kind is not an assertion, but a confession by the individual

of his state of mind. [1409] Hence, too, the universal rule of

indecision cannot be taken as an established principle, but only as a

confession, and, therefore, as only problematical. [1410] It must,

however, remain a matter of doubt how far the captious turns of

expression by which the Sceptics thought to parry the attacks of their

opponents come from Pyrrho’s School. The greater part, it is clear,

came into use in the struggle with the Dogmatists, and are not older

than the development of the Stoic theory of knowledge by Chrysippus,

and the criticism of Carneades to which it gave rise. In this

despairing of anything like certain conviction consists ἀφασία,

ἀκαταληψία, or ἐποχὴ, the withholding of judgment or state of

indecision which Pyrrho and Timon regard as the only true attitude in

speculation, [1411] and from which the whole School derived its

distinctive name. [1412]

[(3) Mental imperturbability.]

From this state of indecision, Timon, in reply to the third question,

argues that mental imperturbability or ἀταραξία proceeds, which can

alone conduct to true happiness. [1413] Men are disturbed by views and

prejudices which mislead them into the efforts of passion. Only the

Sceptic who has suspended all judgment is in a condition to regard

things with absolute calmness, unruffled by passion or desire. [1414]

He knows that it is a fond delusion to suppose that one external

condition is preferable to another. [1415] In reality only the tone of

mind or virtue possesses value. [1416] Thus, by withdrawing within

himself, man reaches happiness, which is the goal of all philosophy.

[1417] Absolute inactivity being, however, impossible, the Sceptic will

act on probabilities, and hence follow custom; [1418] but at the same

time he will be conscious that such conduct does not rest on a basis of

firm conviction. [1419] The province of uncertain opinion includes all

positive judgments respecting good and evil. Only in this conditional

form will Timon allow of goodness and divine goodness as standards of

conduct. [1420] The real object of Scepticism is, therefore, a purely

negative one—indifference. It cannot even be proved [1421] that

Pyrrho’s School so far accommodated itself to life, as to make

moderation rather than indifference the regulating principle for

unavoidable actions and desires. In this direction the School seems to

have done but little.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE NEW ACADEMY.

[A. Arcesilaus.]

Plato’s School was the first to put Scepticism on a firm footing, and

to cultivate it as a system. It has been already remarked that after

the time of Xenocrates this School gradually deserted speculative

enquiries, and limited itself to Ethics. To this new tendency it

consistently adhered, when, shortly after the beginning of the third

century before Christ,

[(1) Denial of knowledge.]

it took a fresh lease of life. Instead, however, of simply ignoring

theoretical knowledge, as it had hitherto done, it assumed towards

knowledge an attitude of opposition, hoping to arrive at security and

happiness in life by being persuaded of the impossibility of knowledge.

How far this result was due to the example set by Pyrrho it is

impossible to establish authoritatively. But it is not in itself

probable that the learned originator of this line of thought in the

Academy should have ignored the views of a philosopher whose work had

been carried on at Elis in his own lifetime, and whose most

distinguished pupil, a personal acquaintance of his own, was then

working at Athens as a prolific writer. [1422] The whole tone and

character, moreover, of the Scepticism of the New Academy betrays

everywhere the presence of Stoic influences. By the confidence of its

assertions it provokes contradiction and doubt, without its being

necessary to seek an explanation by improbable conjectures as to the

personal relations of Arcesilaus and Zeno. [1423]

This connection of the New Academy with Stoicism can be proved in the

case of its first founder, [1424] Arcesilaus. [1425] The doubts of this

philosopher are directed not only to knowledge derived from the senses,

but to rational knowledge as well. [1426] The principal object of his

attack was, however, the Stoic theory of irresistible impressions;

[1427] and in overthrowing that theory Arcesilaus, it would seem,

believed he had exploded every possibility of rational knowledge; for

the Stoic appeal to the senses he regarded as the only possible form of

a theory of knowledge, and the theories of Plato and Aristotle he

ignored altogether. Indeed, no peculiar arguments against knowledge are

referred to him. The old sceptical arguments of Plato and Socrates, of

Anaxagoras, Empedocles, Democritus, Heraclitus, and Parmenides, are

repeated, [1428] all of which apply only to the knowledge of the

senses, and not to rational knowledge. Nevertheless, Arcesilaus aimed

at overthrowing the latter along with the former. [1429] The opinion

that he only used doubt to prepare for or to conceal genuine Platonism,

[1430] is opposed to all credible authorities. It appears, however,

established that he deemed it unnecessary to refute the theory of a

knowledge existing independently of the senses.

The Stoic arguments in favour of irresistible impressions Arcesilaus

met by asserting that an intermediate something between knowledge and

opinion, a kind of conviction common to the wise and the unwise, such

as the Stoic κατάληψις, is inconceivable; the wise man’s conviction is

always knowledge, that of the fool is always opinion. [1431] Going then

farther into the idea of φαντασία καταληπτική, he endeavoured to show

that it contained an internal contradiction; for to conceive

(κατάληψις) is to approve (συγκατάθεσις), and approval never applies to

sensation, but only to thoughts and general ideas. [1432] Lastly, if

the Stoics regarded force of conviction as the distinctive mark of a

true or irresistible conception, and as belonging to it in distinction

from every other, the Sceptic rejoined that such conceptions do not

exist, and that no true conception is of such a nature, but that a

false one may be equally irresistible. [1433] If no certainty of

perception is possible, no knowledge is possible. [1434] And since the

wise man—for on this point Arcesilaus agrees with the Stoics—must only

consider knowledge, and not opinion, nothing remains for him but to

abstain from all and every statement, and to despair of any certain

conviction. [1435] It is therefore impossible to know anything, nor can

we even know for certain that we do not know anything. [1436] It was

quite in accordance with this theory for Arcesilaus to lay down no

definite view in his lectures, but only to refute the views of others.

[1437] Even his disparaging remarks on dialectic, [1438] supposing them

to be genuine, [1439] are not at variance with this conduct. He might

consider the arguments of the Stoics and the sophisms of the Megarians

as useless, whilst, at the same time, he was convinced that no real

knowledge could be attained by any other means. He might even have

inferred from their sterility, that thought leads to truth quite as

little as the senses. There is no real difference between the result at

which he arrived and that of Pyrrho. [1440]

If opponents asserted that by denying knowledge all possibility of

action is denied, [1441] Arcesilaus declined to accede to this

statement. No firm conviction is, as he maintained, necessary for a

decision of the will; for an action to come about a perception

influences the will immediately, leaving the question as to its truth

entirely out of sight. [1442] In order to act sensibly

[(2) Probability.]

we need no knowledge; for this purpose probability is quite enough; any

one can follow probability, even though he is conscious of the

uncertainty of all knowledge. Thus probability is the highest standard

for practical life. [1443] We are but scantily informed how Arcesilaus

applied this principle to the sphere of morals, but a few of his

utterances are on record. [1444] All bear witness to the beautiful

spirit of moderation in the moral theory of the Academy, which was

otherwise exemplified in his own life. [1445]

[B. Carneades.]

Comparing with the theory of Arcesilaus that which was propounded by

Carneades a century later, the same leading features are found to be

underlying; but the points have been more carefully worked out, and the

theory placed on a wider footing. Of the immediate followers of

Arcesilaus [1446] it can only be stated that they clung to their

teacher. It may be presumed that they did little in the way of

expansion, since the ancients are silent as to their labours; Carneades

[1447] is only mentioned as the continuer of the Academic Scepticism.

The importance of Carneades is therefore very great, whence he is in

consequence called the founder of the third or New Academy; [1448] and

it is justly great, witness the admiration which his talents called

forth among cotemporaries and posterity, [1449] and the flourishing

condition in which he left his School. [1450] Himself a pupil of

Chrysippus, and resembling him in tone of mind, [1451] Carneades

expanded not only the negative side of the Sceptical theory in all

directions with an acuteness entitling him to the first place among the

ancient Sceptics, but he was also the first to investigate the positive

side of Scepticism, the doctrine of probability, and to determine the

degrees and conditions of probability. By his labours in both ways he

brought the philosophy of Scepticism to its greatest scientific

perfection.

[(1) Negative side of his teaching.]

As regards the negative side of these investigations, or the refutation

of dogmatism, the attacks of Carneades were directed partly against the

formal possibility of knowledge, and partly against the chief actual

results of the knowledge of his day. In both respects he had mainly to

do with the Stoics, [1452] though he did not confine himself to them.

[(a) Denial of possibility of formal knowledge.]

To prove the impossibility of knowledge in general, he appeals

sometimes to experience. There is no kind of conviction which does not

sometimes deceive us; consequently there is none which guarantees its

own truth. [1453] Going then further into the nature of our notions, he

argues, that since notions consist in the change produced on the soul

by impressions from without, they must, to be true, not only furnish

information as to themselves, but also as to the objects producing

them. Now, this is by no means always the case, many notions avowedly

giving a false impression of things. Hence the note of truth cannot

reside in an impression as such, but only in a true impression. [1454]

It is, however, impossible to distinguish with certainty a true

impression from one that is false. For independently of dreams,

visions, and the fancies of madmen, in short, of all the unfounded

chimeras which force themselves on our notice under the guise of truth,

[1455] it is still undeniable that many false notions closely resemble

true ones. The transition, too, from truth to falsehood is so gradual,

the interval between the two is occupied by intermediate links so

innumerable, and gradations so slight, that they imperceptibly pass one

into the other, and it becomes impossible to draw a boundary line

between the two opposite spheres. [1456] Not content with proving this

assertion in regard to impressions of the senses, Carneades went on to

prove it with regard to general notions based on experience and

intellectual conceptions. [1457] He showed that it is impossible for us

to distinguish objects so much alike as one egg is to another; that at

a certain distance the painted surface seems raised, and a square tower

seems round; that an oar in the water seems broken, and the

neck-plumage of a pigeon assumes different colours in the sun; that

objects on the shore seem to be moving as we sail by, and so forth;

[1458] in all these cases the same strength of conviction belongs to

the false as to the true impressions. [1459] He showed further that

this applies equally to purely intellectual ideas; that many logical

difficulties cannot be solved; [1460] that no absolute distinction can

be drawn between much and little, in short between all differences in

quantity; and that it is the most natural course in all such cases to

follow Chrysippus, and to avoid the dangerous inferences which may be

drawn by withholding judgment. [1461] Arguing from these facts,

Carneades concluded at first in regard to impressions of the senses,

that there is no such thing as φαντασία καταληπτικὴ in the Stoic sense

of the term, in other words, that no perception contains in itself

characteristics, by virtue of which its truth may be inferred with

certainty. [1462] This fact being granted, the possibility is in his

opinion precluded of there residing in the understanding a standard for

the distinction of truth from falsehood. The understanding—and this

belief was shared by his opponents—must derive its material from the

senses. [1463] Logic tests the formal accuracy of combinations of

thought, but gives no insight into their import. [1464] Direct proofs

of the uncertainty of intellectual convictions are not therefore

needed. The same result may also be attained in a more personal way, by

raising the question, how individuals obtain their knowledge. He can

only be said to know a thing who has formed an opinion respecting it.

In the mean time, until he has decided in favour of some definite

opinion, he has still no knowledge. And what dependence can be placed

on the judgment of one who has no knowledge? [1465]

[(b) Attack on the scientific knowledge of the time.]

[(α) The physical views of the Stoics attacked.]

In these formal enquiries into the possibility of knowledge, Carneades

had chiefly to deal with the Stoics, with whom he holds a common ground

in his appeal to the senses. The Stoics were also his chief opponents

in his polemic against the material results of the dogmatic philosophy.

Natural science having throughout the period of the post-Aristotelian

philosophy been subordinated to ethics, ethics likewise engaged more

attention at the hands of Carneades than science. [1466] In as far as

he studied Natural science, he appears to have been entirely opposed to

the Stoic treatment of the subject, and to this circumstance we owe it,

that better information is forthcoming regarding his scientific, or

rather his theological, investigations than regarding his moral views.

The Stoic theories of God and of final causes [1467] afforded ample

scope for the exercise of his ingenuity, and from the ground he

occupied it was not difficult for him to expose the weak points of that

theory. The Stoics had appealed in support of the belief in God to the

consensus gentium. How close at hand was the answer, [1468] that the

universality of this belief was neither proved to exist, nor as a

matter of fact did it exist, but that in no case could the opinion of

an ignorant multitude decide anything. The Stoics thought to find a

proof of divine providence in the manner in which portents and

prophecies come true. To expose this delusion, no very expanded

criticism of divination was necessary. [1469] Going beyond this,

Carneades proceeded to call in question the cardinal point of the Stoic

system—the belief in God, the doctrine of the soul and reason of the

universe, and of the presence of design in its arrangements. How, he

asks, is the presence of design manifested? Whence all the things which

cause destruction and danger to men if it be true that God has made the

world for the sake of man? [1470] If reason is praised as the highest

gift of God, is it not manifest that the majority of men only use it to

make themselves worse than brutes? In bestowing such a gift God must

have been taking but little care of this majority. [1471] Even if we

attribute to man direct blame for the misuse of reason, still, why has

God bestowed on him a reason which can be so much abused? [1472] The

Stoics themselves say that a wise man can nowhere be found. They admit,

too, that folly is the greatest misfortune. How, then, can they speak

of the care bestowed by God on men, when, on their own confession, the

whole of mankind is sunk in the deepest misery? [1473] But allowing

that the Gods could not bestow virtue and wisdom upon all, they could,

at least, have taken care that it should go well with the good. Instead

of this, the experience of hundreds of cases shows that the upright man

comes to a miserable end; that crime succeeds; and that the criminal

can enjoy the fruits of his misdeeds undisturbed. Where, then, is the

agency of Providence? [1474] The facts being entirely different from

what the Stoics suppose, what becomes of their inferences? Allowing the

presence of design in the world, and granting that the world is as

beautiful and good as possible, why is it inconceivable that nature

should have formed the world according to natural laws without the

intervention of God? Admitting, too, the connection of parts in the

universe, why should not this connection be the result simply of

natural forces, without a soul of the universe or a deity? [1475] Who

can pretend to be so intimately acquainted with the powers of nature,

as to be able to prove the impossibility of this assumption? Zeno

argued that rational things are better than things irrational, that the

world is the best possible, and must therefore be rational. Man, says

Socrates, can only derive his soul from the world; therefore the world

must have a soul. But what, replies the Academician, [1476] is there to

show that reason is best for the world, if it be the best for us? or

that there must be a soul in nature for nature to produce a soul? What

man is not able to produce, that, argues Chrysippus, must have been

produced by a higher being—by deity. But to this inference the same

objection was raised by the Academicians as to the former one, viz.

that it confounds two different points of view. There may, indeed, be a

Being higher than man. But why must there needs be a rational man-like

Being? Why a God? Why not nature herself? [1477] Nor did the argument

seem to an Academician more conclusive, that as every house is destined

to be inhabited, so, too, the world must be intended for the habitation

of God. To this there was the obvious reply: [1478] If the world were a

house, it might be so; but the very point at issue is whether it is a

house constructed for a definite purpose, or whether it is simply an

undesigned result of natural forces.

[(β) Theological views of the Stoics attacked.]

Not content with attacking the conclusiveness of the arguments upon

which the Stoics built their belief in a God, the scepticism of the

Academy sought to demonstrate that the idea of God itself is an

untenable one. The line of argument which Carneades struck out for this

purpose is essentially the same as that used in modern times to deny

the personality of God. The ordinary view of God regards Him as an

infinite, but, at the same time, as a separate Being, possessing the

qualities and living the life of an individual. To this view Carneades

objected, on the ground that the first assertion contradicts the

second; and argues that it is impossible to apply the characteristics

of personal existence to God without limiting His infinite nature.

Whatever view we may take of God, we must regard Him as a living Being;

and every living being is composite, having parts and passions, and is

therefore destructible. [1479] Moreover, every living being has a

sense-nature. Far, therefore, from refusing such a nature to God,

Carneades attributed to Him, in the interest of omniscience, other

organs of sense than the five we possess. Now, everything capable of

impressions through the senses is also liable to change, sensation,

according to the definition of Chrysippus, being nothing more than a

change of soul. Every such being must therefore be capable of pleasure

and pain, without which sensation is inconceivable. Whatever is capable

of change is liable to destruction; whatever is susceptible to pain is

also liable to deterioration, pain being caused by deterioration, and

is also liable to destruction. [1480] As the capacity for sensation, so

too the desire for what is in harmony with nature, and the dislike of

what is opposed to nature, belong to the conditions of life. Whatever

has the power of destroying any being is opposed to the nature of that

being, everything that lives being exposed to annihilation. [1481]

Advancing from the conception of a living being to that of a rational

being, all virtues would have to be attributed to God as well as bliss.

But how, asks Carneades, can any virtue be ascribed to God? Every

virtue supposes an imperfection, in overcoming which it consists. He

only is continent who might possibly be incontinent, and persevering

who might be indulgent. To be brave, a man must be exposed to danger;

to be magnanimous, he must be exposed to misfortunes. A being not

feeling attraction for pleasure, nor aversion for pain and

difficulties, dangers and misfortunes, would not be capable of virtue.

Just as little could we predicate prudence of a being not susceptible

of pleasure and pain; prudence consisting in knowing what is good, bad,

and morally indifferent. But how can there be any such knowledge where

there is no susceptibility to pleasure or pain? Or how can a being be

conceived of capable of feeling pleasure, but incapable of feeling

pain, since pleasure can only be known by contrast with pain, and the

possibility of increasing life always supposes the possibility of

lessening it? Nor is it otherwise with intelligence (εὐβουλία). He only

is intelligent who always discovers what will subserve his purpose. If,

however, he must discover it, it cannot have been previously known to

him. Hence intelligence can only belong to a being who is ignorant

about much. Such a being can never feel sure that sooner or later

something will not cause his ruin. He will therefore be exposed to

fear. A being susceptible of pleasure and exposed to pain, a being who

has to contend with dangers and difficulties, and who feels pain and

fear, must inevitably, so thought Carneades, be finite and

destructible. If, therefore, we cannot conceive of God except in this

form, we cannot conceive of Him at all, our conception being

self-destructive. [1482]

There is yet another reason, according to Carneades, why God cannot

have any virtue; because virtue is above its possessor, and there can

be nothing above God. [1483] Moreover, what is the position of God in

regard to speech? It was easy to show the absurdity of attributing

speech to Him, [1484] but to call him speechless (ἄφωνος) seemed also

to be opposed to the general belief. [1485] Quite independently,

however, of details, the inconceivableness of God appears, so soon as

the question is raised, whether the deity is limited or unlimited,

material or immaterial. God cannot be unlimited; for what is unlimited

is necessarily immovable because it has no place, and soulless because

by virtue of its boundlessness it cannot form a whole permeated by a

soul; but God we ordinarily think of both as moving and as endowed with

a soul. Nor can God be limited; for all that is limited is incomplete.

Moreover, God cannot be immaterial, for Carneades, like the Stoics,

held that what is immaterial possesses neither soul, feeling, nor

activity. Neither can he be material, all composite bodies being liable

to change and destruction, and simple bodies, fire, water, and the

like, possessing neither life nor reason. [1486] If, then, all the

forms under which we think of God are impossible, His existence cannot

be asserted.

[(γ) Polytheistic views attacked.]

Easier work lay before the Sceptics in criticising polytheistic views

of religion and their defence by the Stoics. Among the arguments

employed by Carneades to overthrow them, certain chain-arguments are

prominent, by means of which he endeavoured to show that the popular

belief has no distinctive marks for the spheres of God and man. If Zeus

is a God, he argues, his brother Poseidon must likewise be one, and if

he is one, the rivers and streams must also be Gods. If Helios is a

God, the appearance of Helios above the earth, or day, must be a God;

and, consequently, month, year, morning, midday, evening, must all be

Gods. [1487] Polytheism is here refuted by establishing an essential

similarity between what is accepted as God and what is avowedly not a

God. It may readily be supposed that this was not the only proof of the

acuteness of Carneades’ reasoning. [1488]

Divination, to which the Stoics attached especial importance, [1489]

was vigorously assailed. Carneades proved that no peculiar range of

subjects belonged thereto, but that in all cases which admit

professional judgment experts pass a better judgment than diviners.

[1490] To know accidental events beforehand is impossible; it is

useless to know those that are necessary and unavoidable, nay, more, it

would even be harmful. [1491] No causal connection can be conceived of

between a prophecy and the ensuing realisation. [1492] If the Stoics

met him by pointing to fulfilled prophecies, he replied that the

coincidence was accidental, [1493] at the same time declaring many such

stories to be without doubt false. [1494]

[(δ) Moral views of the Stoics attacked.]

Connected probably with these attacks on divination was the defence by

Carneades of the freedom of the will. The Stoic fatalism he refuted by

an appeal to the fact that our decision is free; and since the Stoics

appealed in support of their view to the law of causality, he likewise

attacked this law. [1495] In so doing his intention was not to assert

anything positive respecting the nature of the human will, but only to

attack the Stoic assertion, and if for his own part he adhered to the

old Academic doctrine of a free will, he still regarded that doctrine

as only probable.

Less information exists as to the arguments by which Carneades sought

to assail the current principles of morality. Nevertheless, enough is

known to indicate the course taken by his Scepticism in relation

thereto. In the second of the celebrated speeches which he delivered at

Rome in the year 156 B.C., [1496] he denied that there is such a thing

as natural right: all laws are only positive civil institutions devised

by men for the sake of safety and advantage, and for the protection of

the weak; and hence he is regarded as foolish who prefers justice to

interest, which after all is the only unconditional end. In support of

these statements he appealed to the fact that laws change with

circumstances, and are different in different countries. He pointed to

the example of great nations, such as the Romans, all of whom attained

to greatness by unrighteous means. He impressed into his service the

many casuistical questions raised by the Stoics, expressing the opinion

that in all these cases it is better to commit the injury which brings

advantage—for instance, to murder another to save one’s own life—than

to postpone advantage to right, and hence inferred that intelligence is

a state of irreconcileable opposition to justice. [1497]

This free criticism of dogmatic views could not fail to bring Carneades

to the same result as his predecessors. Knowledge is absolutely

impossible. A man of sense will look at everything from all sides and

invariably withhold judgment, thus guarding himself against error.

[1498] And to this conviction he clings so persistently that he

altogether refuses to listen to the objection that the wise man must be

at least convinced of the impossibility of any firm conviction. [1499]

The earlier Sceptics, far from attributing on this ground an equal

value to all notions, had not dispensed with reasons for actions and

[(2) Positive side of the teaching of Carneades.]

[(a) Theory of probabilities.]

thoughts. This point was now taken up by Carneades, who, in attempting

to establish the conditions and degrees of probability, hoped to obtain

a clue to the kind of conviction which might be still permitted in his

system. However much we may despair of knowledge, some stimulus and

groundwork for action is needed. Certain things must therefore be

assumed, from which the pursuit of happiness must start. [1500] To

these so much weight must be attached that they are allowed to decide

our conduct, but we must be on our guard against considering them to be

true, or to be something really known and conceived. Nor must we forget

that even the nature of true ideas is similar to that of false ones,

and that the truth of ideas can never be known with certainty. Hence we

should withhold all assent, not allowing any ideas to be true, but only

to have the appearance of truth (ἀληθῆ φαίνεσθαι) or probability

(ἔμφασις, πιθανότης). [1501] In every notion two things need to be

considered, the relation to the object represented which makes it

either true or false, and the relation to the subject who has the

notion, which makes it seem either true or false. The former relation

is, for the reasons already quoted, quite beyond the compass of our

judgment; the latter, the relation of a notion to ourselves, falls

within the sphere of consciousness. [1502] So long as a notion

seemingly true is cloudy and indistinct, like an object contemplated

from a distance, it makes no great impression on us. When, on the

contrary, the appearance of truth is strong, it produces in us a belief

[1503] strong enough to determine us to action, although it does not

come up to the impregnable certainty of knowledge. [1504]

Belief, however, like probability, is of several degrees. The lowest

degree of probability arises when a notion produces by itself an

impression of truth, without being taken in connection with other

notions. The next higher degree is when that impression is confirmed by

the agreement of all notions which are related to it. The third and

highest degree is when an investigation of all these notions results in

producing the same corroboration for all. In the first case a notion is

called probable (πιθανή); in the second probable and undisputed (πιθανὴ

καὶ ἀπερίσπαστος); in the third probable, undisputed, and tested

(πιθανὴ καὶ ἀπερίσπαστος καὶ περιωδευμένη). [1505] Within each one of

these three classes different gradations of probability are again

possible. [1506] The distinguishing marks, which must be considered in

the investigation of probability, appear to have been investigated by

Carneades in the spirit of the Aristotelian logic. [1507] In proportion

to the greater or less practical importance of a question, or to the

accuracy of investigation which the circumstances allow, we must adhere

to one or the other degree of probability. [1508] Although no one of

them is of such a nature as to exclude the possibility of error, this

circumstance need not deprive us of certainty in respect to actions,

provided we have once convinced ourselves that the absolute certainty

of our practical premisses is not possible. [1509] Just as little

should we hesitate to affirm or deny anything in that conditional way

which is alone possible after what has been stated. Assent will be

given to no notion in the sense of its being absolutely true, but to

many notions in the sense that we consider them highly probable. [1510]

[(b) Moral and religious view of life.]

Among questions about which the greatest possible certainty is felt to

be desirable, Carneades, true to his whole position, gave a prominent

place to principles of morals; [1511] life and action being the

principal things with which the theory of probability has to do. [1512]

We hear, therefore, that he thoroughly discussed the fundamental

questions of Ethics, the question as to the highest Good. [1513] On

this subject he distinguished six, or relatively four, different views.

If the primary object of desire can in general only consist of those

things which correspond with our nature, and which consequently call

our emotions into exercise, the object of desire must be either

pleasure, or absence of pain, or conformity with nature. In each of

these three cases two opposite results are possible: either the highest

Good may consist in the attainment of a purpose, or else in the

activity which aims at its attainment. The latter is the view of the

Stoics only, and arises from regarding natural activity or virtue as

the highest Good. Hence the six possible views are practically reduced

to four, which taken by themselves, or else in combination, include all

existing views respecting the highest Good. [1514] But so ambiguously

did Carneades express himself as to his particular preference of any

one view, that even Clitomachus declared he was ignorant as to his real

opinion. [1515] It was only tentatively and for the purpose of refuting

the Stoics, that he propounded the statement that the highest Good

consists in the enjoyment of such things as afford satisfaction to the

primary impulses of nature. [1516] Nevertheless, the matter has often

been placed in such a light as though Carneades had propounded this

statement on his own account; and the statement itself has been quoted

to prove that he considered the satisfaction of natural impulses apart

from virtue as an end in itself. [1517] It is also asserted that he

approximated to the view of Callipho, which does not appear to have

been essentially different from that of the older Academy. [1518] The

same leaning to the older Academy and its doctrine of moderation

appears in other recorded parts of the Ethics of Carneades. The pain

caused by misfortune he wished to lessen by thinking beforehand of its

possibility; [1519] and after the destruction of Carthage he

deliberately asserted before Clitomachus that the wise man would never

allow himself to be disturbed, not even by the downfall of his country.

[1520]

Putting all these statements together, we obtain a view not unworthy of

Carneades, and certainly quite in harmony with his position. That

philosopher could not, consistently with his sceptical principles,

allow scientific certainty to any of the various opinions respecting

the nature and aim of moral action; and in this point he attacked the

Stoics with steady home-thrusts. Their inconsistency in calling the

choice of what is natural the highest business of morality, and yet not

allowing to that which is according to nature a place among goods,

[1521] was so trenchantly exposed by him that Antipater is said to have

been brought to admit that not the objects to which choice is directed,

but the actual choice itself is a good. [1522] He even asserted that

the Stoic theory of Goods only differed in words from that of the

Peripatetics; to this assertion he was probably led by the fact that

the Stoic morality appeals to nature only, or perhaps by the theory

therewith connected of things to be desired and things to be eschewed.

[1523] If there were any difference between the two, Stoicism, he

thought, ignored the real wants of nature. The Stoics, for instance,

called a good name a thing indifferent; Carneades, however, drove them

so much into a corner because of this statement that they ever after

(so Cicero assures us) qualified their assertion, attributing to a good

name at least a secondary value among things to be desired (προηγμένα).

[1524] Chrysippus, again, thought to find some consolation for the ills

of life in the reflection that no man is free from them. Carneades was,

however, of opinion that this thought could only afford consolation to

a lover of ill; it being rather a matter for sorrow that all should be

exposed to so hard a fate. [1525] Believing, too, that man’s happiness

does not depend on any theory of ethics, [1526] he could avow without

hesitation that all other views of morality do not go beyond

probability; and thus the statement of Clitomachus, as far as it refers

to a definite decision as to the highest good, is without doubt

correct. But just as the denial of knowledge does not, according to the

view of Carneades, exclude conviction in general on grounds of

probability, no more does it in the province of ethics. Here, then, is

the intermediate position which was attributed to him—a position not

only suggested by the traditions of the Academic School, but remaining

as a last resource to the sceptical destroyer of systems so opposite as

Stoicism and the theory of pleasure. The inconsistency of at one time

identifying the satisfaction of natural instincts with virtue, and at

another time distinguishing it from virtue, which is attributed to

Carneades, is an inconsistency for which probably Cicero is alone

responsible. The real meaning of Carneades can only be that virtue

consists in an activity directed towards the possession of what is

according to nature, and hence that it cannot as the highest Good be

separated from accordance with nature. [1527] For the same reason,

virtue supplies all that is requisite for happiness. [1528] Hence, when

it is stated that, notwithstanding his scepticism on moral subjects,

Carneades was a thoroughly upright man, [1529] we have not only no

reason to doubt this statement as to his personal character, but we can

even discern that it was a practical and legitimate consequence of his

philosophy. It may appear to us inconsistent to build on a foundation

of absolute doubt the certainty of practical conduct; nevertheless, it

is an inconsistency deeply rooted in all the scepticism of

post-Aristotelian times. That scepticism Carneades brought to

completeness, and in logically developing his theory, even its

scientific defects came to light.

For the same reason we may also give credit to the statement that

Carneades, like the later Sceptics, notwithstanding his severe

criticisms on the popular and philosophic theology of his age, never

intended to deny the existence of divine agencies. [1530] On this point

he acted like a true Sceptic. He expressed doubts as to whether

anything could be known about God, but for practical purposes he

accepted the belief in God as an opinion more or less probable and

useful.

Taking all things into account, the philosophic importance of Carneades

and the School of which he was the head cannot be estimated at so low a

value as would be the case were the New Academy merely credited with

entertaining shallow doubts, and Carneades’ theory of probabilities

deduced from rhetorical rather than from philosophical considerations.

[1531] For the last assertion there is no ground whatever; Carneades

distinctly avowed that a conviction resting on probabilities seemed

indispensable for practical needs and actions. On this point he is

wholly in accord with all the forms of Scepticism, not only with the

New Academy, but also with Pyrrho and the later Sceptics. He differs

from them in the degree of accuracy with which he investigates the

varieties and conditions of probability; but a question of degree can

least of all be urged against a philosopher. Nor should doubts be

called shallow which the ancients even in later times could only very

inadequately dissipate, and which throw light on several of the deepest

problems of life by the critical investigations they occasioned. No

doubt, in the despair of attaining to knowledge at all, and in the

attempt to reduce everything to opinion more or less certain,

indications may be seen of the exhaustion of the intellect, and of the

extinction of philosophic originality. Nevertheless it must never be

forgotten that the scepticism of the New Academy was not only in

harmony with the course naturally taken by Greek philosophy as a whole,

but that it was pursued with an acuteness and a scientific vigour

leaving no doubt that it was a really important link in the chain of

philosophic development.

[C. School of Carneades.]

In Carneades this Scepticism attained its highest growth. The successor

of Carneades, Clitomachus, [1532] is known as the literary exponent of

the views taught by Carneades. [1533] At the same time we hear of his

being accurately acquainted with the teaching of the Peripatetics and

Stoics; and although it was no doubt his first aim to refute the

dogmatism of these Schools, it would appear that Clitomachus entered

into the connection of their doctrines more fully than is usually the

case with opponents. [1534] As to his fellow-pupil, Charmidas (or

Charmadas), [1535] one wholly unimportant utterance is our only guide

for determining his views. [1536] For ascertaining the philosophy of

the other pupils of Carneades, [1537] nothing but the scantiest

fragments have been preserved. The statement of Polybius that the

Academic School degenerated into empty subtleties, and thereby became

an object of contempt, [1538] may deserve no great amount of belief;

but it does seem probable that the School made no important advance on

the path marked out by himself and Arcesilaus. It did not even continue

true to that path for very long. Not a generation after the death of

its most celebrated teacher, and even among his own pupils, [1539] that

eclecticism began to appear, the general and simultaneous spread of

which ushered in a new period in the history of the post-Aristotelian

philosophy.

NOTES

[1] Zeller’s Philosophie der Griechen. Part I. 96.

[2] Conf. Arist. Metaph. I. 2, 282 b, 19.

[3] For the life of Zeno, Diogenes is the chief authority, who appears

to be indebted for his information chiefly to Antigonus of Carystus,

who lived about 250 B.C. In proof of this, compare the account of

Diogenes with the extracts given by Athenæus (viii. 345, d; xiii. 563,

e; 565, d; 603, e; 607, e; and, in particular, ii. 55, f) from

Antigonus’ life of Zeno. Of modern authorities, consult Wagenmann, in

Pauly’s Realencyclop.

[4] Diog. vii. 1. Suid. Ζήνων. Plut. Plac. i. 3, 29. Pausan. ii. 8, 4.

He is called by others Demeas.

[5] Citium, which the ancients unanimously call the native city of

Zeno, was, according to Diog. vii. 1, a πόλισμα Ἑλληνικὸν Φοίνικας

ἐποίκους ἐσχηκὸς, i.e. Phœnician immigrants had settled there by the

side of the old Greek population, whence its inhabitants are sometimes

called ‘e Phœnicia profecti’ (Cic. Fin. iv. 20, 56), and Zeno is

himself called a Phœnician (Diog. vii. 3; 15; 25; 30; ii. 114. Suid.

Ζήν. Athen. xiii. 563, e. Cic. l.c.). A continuous connection between

Citium and Phœnicia is implied in Diog. vii. 6; οἱ ἐν Σιδῶνι Κιτιεῖς.

[6] The details are differently given by Diog. 2–5; 31; Plut. Inimic.

Util. 2, p. 87; and Sen. Tranq. An. 14, 3. Most accounts say that he

came to Athens for trading purposes, and accidentally became acquainted

with Crates and philosophy after being shipwrecked. According to other

accounts, he remained at Athens, after disposing of his merchandise,

and devoted himself to philosophy. Demetrius of Magnesia (Themist. Or.

xxiii. 295, D) further relates that he had already occupied himself

with philosophy at home, and repaired to Athens to study it more

fully—a view which seems most likely, because the least sensational.

[7] The dates in Zeno’s life are very uncertain. He is said to have

been thirty when he first came to Athens (Diog. 2). Persæus, however

(Ibid. 28), his pupil and countryman, says twenty-two. These statements

are of little use, since the date of his coming to Athens is unknown.

If it is true that after reading with Crates he was for ten years a

pupil of Xenocrates, who died 314 B.C. (Timocrates in Diog. 2), he must

have come to Athens not later than 328 B.C. But this fact may be

doubted. For his whole line of thought resembles that of Crates and

Stilpo. How then can he have been for ten years a pupil in the Academy,

and in addition have enjoyed Polemo’s teaching? Altogether he is said

to have frequented the schools of different philosophers for twenty

years before opening his own (Diog. 4). According to Apollon. in Diog.

28, he presided over his own school for fifty-eight years, which is

hardly reconcileable with the above data, even if he attained the age

of ninety-eight (Diog. 28; Lucian, Macrob. 19). According to Persæus

(Diog. 28), he only attained the age of seventy-two (Clinton, Fast.

Hell. II. 368 capriciously suggests 92), and was altogether only fifty

years in Athens. On the other hand, in his own letter to Antigonus

(Diog. 9), he distinctly calls himself an octogenarian, but the

genuineness of this letter, borrowed by Diogenes from Apollonius the

Tyrian about 50 B.C., may perhaps be doubted. The year of Zeno’s death

is likewise unknown. His relations to Antigonus Gonatas prove at least

that he was not dead before the beginning of his reign in 278 B.C., and

probably not till long afterwards. It would appear from the calculation

of his age, that his death did not take place till 260 B.C. He may,

then, have lived circa 350 to 260 B.C.; but these dates are quite

uncertain.

[8] Diog. vii. 2; vi. 105.

[9] Diog. 3: ἐντεῦθεν ἤκουσε τοῦ Κράτητος, ἄλλως μὲν εὔτονος πρὸς

φιλοσοφίαν, αἰδήμων δὲ ὡς πρὸς τὴν κυνικὴν ἀναισχυντίαν.

[10] Conf., besides what immediately follows, Diog. 25 and 15: ἦν δὲ

ζητητικὸς καὶ περὶ πάντων ἀκριβολογούμενος.

[11] Diog. vii. 2; 4; 16; 20; 24; ii. 114; 120. Numen. in Eus. Pr. Ev.

xiv. 5, 9; 6, 6. Polemo is called his teacher by Cic. Fin. iv. 16, 45;

Acad. i. 9, 35. Strabo, xiii. 1. 67, p. 614. On Xenocrates compare p.

37, 1. How ready he was to learn from others is proved by the saying in

Diog. 25; Plut. Fragm. in Hesiod. ix. T. V. 511. W.

[12] Diog. 5, according to whom he gave instruction walking to and fro,

like Aristotle, but never to more than two or three at a time (Diog.

14). It is not probable that he gave any formal lectures.

[13] Which, however, must be judged by the standard of that time and of

Greek customs. Conf. Diog. 13; and the quotations in Athen. xiii. 607,

e; 563, e, from Antigonus of Carystus.

[14] See Musonius in Stob. Serm. 17, 43. His outward circumstances also

appear to have been very simple. According to one account (Diog. 13),

he brought to Athens the fabulous sum of 1000 talents, and put it out

to interest. Themist. Or. xxi., p. 252, says that he forgave a debtor

his debt. He is said to have paid a logician 200 drachmas, instead of

the 100 which he asked for (Diog. 25). Nor is there any mention of a

Cynical life or of poverty. But, according to Diog. 5, Plut. and Sen.,

he had lost his property almost entirely. According to Sen. Consol. ad

Helv. 12, 5 (contradicted by Diog. 23), he owned no slave. Had he been

well to do, he would hardly have accepted the presents of Antigonus.

That Zeno was unmarried appears from Diog. 13.

[15] Conf. Diog. 13; 16; 24; 26; Athen. in the passage quoted p. 36, 2;

Suid.; Clem. Strom. 413, A. It is mentioned as a peculiarity of Zeno,

that he avoided all noise and popular display (Diog. 14); that, though

generally grave, he relaxed over his wine, and that too much; that he

could not tolerate many words, and was very fond of epigrams. See Diog.

16; 20; 24; Athen. l.c. Stob. Serm. 34; 10; 36; 19; 23. He is said to

have carried his parsimoniousness too far. In this respect he was a

thorough Phœnician (Diog. 16). The presents of Antigonus he never

sought, and broke with an acquaintance who asked for his interest with

the king. Still he did not despise them, without abating from his

dignity. The loss of his property he bore with the greatest composure

(Diog. 3; Plut. and Sen.).

[16] Antigonus (conf. Athen. xiii. 603, e; Arrian, Diss. Epict. ii. 13,

14; Simpl. in Epict. Enchir. 283, c; Æl. V. H. ix. 26) was fond of his

society, attended his lectures, and wished to have him at court—but

Zeno declined the offer, sending two of his pupils instead. The

Athenians, to whom, according to Ælian’s untrustworthy account V. H.

vii. 14, he had rendered political services, honoured him with a public

panegyric, a golden crown, a statue, and burial in the Ceramicus. That

the keys of the city were left in his keeping is not probable. The

offer of Athenian citizenship he declined (Plut. Sto. Rep. 4, 1, p.

1034). Nor did his countrymen in Citium fail to show their appreciation

(Diog. 6; Plin. H. N. xxxiv. 19, 32) of him, and Zeno always insisted

on being a Citian (Diog. 12; Plut. l.c.).

[17] He himself (Diog. vii. 18) compares the λόγοι ἀπηρτισμένοι of the

ἀσόλοικοι to the elegant Alexandrian coins, which, instead of being

better, were often lighter than those of Athens. He is charged in

particular with using words in a wrong sense, and with inventing new

words, whence Cic. Tusc. v. 11, 34, calls him ‘ignobilis verborum

opifex,’ and Chrysippus, in a treatise περὶ τοῦ κυρίως κεχρῆσθαι Ζήνωνα

τοῖς ὀνόμασιν, disparages this καινοτομεῖν ἐν τοῖς ὀνόμασι (Galen.

Diff. Puls. III. 1., vol. viii. 642, K.). He is also charged with

maintaining that nothing ought to be concealed, but that even the most

indelicate things should be called by their proper names. He is further

charged with having propounded no new system, but with having

appropriated the thoughts of his predecessors, and having concealed his

plagiarism by the use of new terms. In Diog. vii. 25, Polemo says:

κλέπτων τὰ δόγματα Φοινικῶς μεταμφιεννύς; and Cicero frequently repeats

the charge (Fin. v. 25, 74; iii. 2, 5; iv. 2, 3; 3, 7; 26; 72; v. 8,

22; 29, 88. Acad. ii. 5, 15. Legg. 1, 13, 38; 20; 53. Tusc. ii. 12,

29).

[18] Diog. 28, 1. The statement that he was ἄνοσος must be taken with

some limitation, according to Diog. vii. 162; Stob. Floril. 17, 43.

[19] Diog. 28; 31. Lucian, Macrob. 19. Lactant. Inst. iii. 18. Stob.

Floril. 7, 45. Suid.

[20] The list of them in Diog. 4, to which additions are made Diog. 34;

39; 134. The Διατριβαὶ (Diog. 34; Sext. Pyrrh. iii. 205; 245; Math. xi.

90) may perhaps be identical with the Ἀπομνημονεύματα Κράτητος (Diog.

4), the Τέχνη ἐρωτικὴ (Diog. 34) with Τέχνη (Diog. 4). An exposition of

Hesiod, which had been inferred to exist, from Cic. N. D. i. 14, 36,

Krische, Forsch. 367, rightly identifies with the treatise περὶ τοῦ

ὅλου, and this with the treatise περὶ τῆς φύσεως (Stob. Ecl. i. 178).

Other authorities are given by Fabric. Bibl. Gr. iii. 580.

[21] This appears at least probable from Diog. 4: ἕως μὲν οὖν τινὸς

ἤκουσε τοῦ Κράτητος· ὅτε καὶ τὴν πολιτείαν αὐτοῦ γράψαντος, τινὲς

ἔλεγον παίζοντες ἐπὶ τῆς τοῦ κυνὸς οὐρᾶς αὐτὴν γεγραφέναι.

[22] Mohnike, Cleanthes d. Sto.: Greifsw. 1814. Cleanthis Hymn. in

Jovem, ed. Sturz, ed. nov. cur. Merzdorf.: Lips. 1835.

[23] Strabo, xiii. 1, 57, p. 610. Diog. vii. 168. Ælian, Hist. Anim.

vi. 50. How Clemens, Protrept. 47, A, comes to call him Πισαδεὺς, it is

hard to say, nor is it of any moment. Mohnike, p. 67, offers

conjectures. Mohnike also rightly maintains, p. 77, that Cleanthes ὁ

Ποντικὸς in Diog. ix. 15 must be the same as this Cleanthes, and Cobet

strikes out the words ὁ Ποντικὸς after Κλεάνθης.

[24] According to Antisthenes (the Rhodian), in Diog. l.c., Cleanthes

was a pugilist, who came to Athens with four drachmæ, and entered the

school of Zeno (according to Hesych. v. Suid., that of Crates, which is

impossible for chronological reasons. Conversely, Valer. Max. viii. 7,

ext. 11, makes him a pupil of Chrysippus, confounding the relations of

pupil and teacher, as we have met with elsewhere), in which he studied

for nineteen years (Diog. 176), gaining a maintenance by working as a

labourer (Diog. 168; 174; Plut. Vit. Ær. Al. 7, 5, p. 830; Sen. Ep. 44,

3; Krische, Forsch.). A public maintenance, which was offered him, Zeno

induced him to refuse, and, in other ways, tried his power of will by

the severest tests. It is, therefore, all the more improbable that

Antigonus gave him 3000 minæ (Diog. 169). On the simplicity of his

life, his constant application, his adherence to Zeno, &c., see Diog.

168; 170; 37; Plut. De Audi. 18, p. 47; Cic. Tusc. ii. 25, 60. He also

refused to become an Athenian citizen (Plut. Sto. Rep. 4, p. 1034). He

died of self-imposed starvation (Diog. 176; Lucian, Macrob. 19; Stob.

Floril. 7, 54). His age is stated by Diog. 176, at eighty; by Lucian

and Valer. Max. viii. 7, ext. 11, at ninety-nine. Diog. 174, gives a

list of his somewhat numerous writings, mostly on moral subjects, which

is supplemented by Fabric. Bibl. iii. 551, Harl. and Mohnike, p. 90.

Cleanthes was held in great esteem in the Stoic School, even in the

time of Chrysippus (Diog. vii. 179; 182; Cic. Acad. ii. 41, 126). At a

later time, the Roman Senate erected a statue to him at Assos (Simpl.

in Epict. Enchir. c. 53, 329, b).

[25] Aristo, son of Miltiades, a Chian, discussed most fully by

Krische, Forsch. 405, known as the Siren, because of his persuasive

powers, and also as the Baldhead, was a pupil of Zeno (Diog. 37; 160;

Cic. N. D. i. 14, 37; Acad. ii. 42, 130; Sen. Ep. 94, 2), but is said,

during Zeno’s illness, to have joined Polemo (Diocl. in Diog. 162).

Although it may be objected that his teaching does not diverge in the

direction of Platonism, but rather in the opposite direction, still

Polemo’s contempt (Diog. iv. 18) for dialectic may at one time have had

its attractions for him. It is a better established fact that his

attitude towards pleasure was less indifferent than it ought to have

been, according to his principles (Eratos and Apollophanes in Athen.

vii. 281, c); but the charge of flattery towards his fellow-pupil

Persæus appears not to be substantiated (Athen. vi. 251, c). His

letters show that he was on intimate terms with Cleanthes (Themist. Or.

xxi. p. 255, b). His loquacity is said to have been displeasing to Zeno

(Diog. vii. 18). He appeared as a teacher in the Cynosarges,

Antisthenes’ old locality (Diog. 161), thus claiming descent from

Cynicism. Of his numerous pupils (Diog. 182; Plut. C. Princ. Philos. i.

4. p. 776), two are mentioned by Diogenes, 161; Miltiades and Diphilus.

Athenæus names two more: Apollophanes, and the celebrated Alexandrian

sage, Eratosthenes, both of whom wrote an ‘Aristo.’ The latter is also

named by Strabo, i. 2, 2, p. 15, Suid. Ἐρατοσθ. Apollophanes, whilst

adopting Aristo’s views of virtue in Diog. vii. 92, did not otherwise

adopt his ethics. His natural science is mentioned by Diog. vii. 140,

his psychology by Tertull. De An. 14. Since Eratosthenes was born 276

B.C., Aristo must have been alive in 250 B.C., which agrees with his

being called a cotemporary and opponent of Arcesilaus (Strabo, l.c.;

Diog. vii. 162; iv. 40, and 33). According to Diog. vii. 164, he died

of sunstroke. Not only had his School disappeared in the time of Strabo

and Cicero (Cic. Legg. i. 13, 38; Fin. ii. 11, 35; v. 8, 23; Tusc. v.

30, 85; Off. i. 2, 6; Strabo, l.c.), but no traces of it are found

beyond the first generation. The writings enumerated by Diog. vii. 163,

with the single exception of the letter to Cleanthes, are said to have

been attributed by Panætius and Sosicrates to the Peripatetic; but

Krische’s remarks, p. 408, particularly after Sauppe’s demurrer

(Philodemi de Vit. Lib. X. Weimar, 1853, p. 7), raise a partial doubt

as to the accuracy of this statement. The fragments, at least, of

Ὁμοιώματα preserved by Stobæus seem to belong to a Stoic. Perhaps from

the Ὅμοια come the statements in Sen. Ep. 36, 3; 115, 8; Plut. De Aud.

8, p. 42; De Sanit. 20, p. 133; De Exil. 5, p. 600; Præc. Ger. Reip. 9,

4, p. 804; Aqua an Ign. Util. 12, 2, p. 958.

[26] Herillus’s native place was Carthage (Diog. vii. 37; 165). If

Χαλχηδόνιος is read by Cobet in the last passage, we have again the

same confusion between Καλχηδὼν and Καρχηδὼν, which made Xenocrates a

Καρχηδόνιος. He came as a boy under Zeno (Diog. 166; Cic. Acad. ii. 42,

129). Diog. l.c. enumerates the writings of Herillus, calling them,

however, ὀλιγόστιχα μὲν δυνάμεως δὲ μεστά. Cic. De Orat. iii. 17. 62,

speaks of a School bearing his name, but no pupil belonging to it is

known.

[27] Citium was his birthplace. His father’s name was Demetrius (Diog.

6; 36), and his own nickname Dorotheus (Suid. Περσ.). According to

Diog. 36; Sotion and Nicias in Athen. iv. 162, d; Gell. ii. 18, 8;

Orig. C. Cels. iii. 483, d; he was first a slave of Zeno’s, which

agrees with his being a pupil and inmate of his house (Diog. 36; 13;

Cic. N. D. i. 15, 38; Athen. xiii. 607, e; Pausan. ii. 8, 4). It is

less probable that he was presented by Antigonus to Zeno as a copyist

(Diog. 36). He subsequently lived at the court of Antigonus (Athen. vi.

251, c; xiii. 607, a; Themist. Or. xxxii., p. 358), whose son

Halcyoneus (Ælian, V. H. iii. 17, says falsely himself) he is said to

have instructed (Diog. 36), and with whom he stood in high favour

(Plut. Arat. 18; Athen. vi. 251, c). He, however, allowed the

Macedonian garrison in Corinth to be surprised by Aratus, in 243 B.C.,

and, according to Pausan. ii. 8, 4; vii. 8, 1, perished on that

occasion. The contrary is asserted by Plut. Arat. 23, and Athen. iv.

162, c. In his teaching and manner of life, he appears to have taken a

very easy view of the Stoic principles (Diog. 13; 36; Athen. iv. 162,

b; xiii. 607, a). It is therefore probable that he did not agree with

Aristo’s Cynicism (Diog. vii. 162), and his pupil Hermagoras wrote

against the Cynics (Suid. Ἑρμαγ.). Political reasons were at the bottom

of Menedemus’ hatred for him (Diog. ii. 143). Otherwise, he appears as

a genuine Stoic (Diog. vii. 120; Cic. N. D. i. 15, 38; Minuc. Felix

Octav. 21, 3; Philodem. De Mus., Vol. Herc. i. col. 14). Compare p. 39,

2. The treatises mentioned by Diog. 36 are chiefly ethical and

political. In addition to these, there was a treatise on Ethics (Diog.

28); the συμποτικὰ ὑπομνήματα, or συμποτικοὶ διάλογοι, from which

Athen. (iv. 162, b; xiii. 607, a) gives some extracts; and the Ἱστορία

(in Suid.). Whether Cicero’s statement is taken from a treatise omitted

by Diogenes, or from that περὶ ἀσεβείας, it is hard to say.

[28] According to the sketch of his life in Buhle (Arat. Opp. i. 3),

Aratus was a pupil of Persæus at Athens, in company with whom he

repaired to Antigonus in Macedonia, which can only mean that he was,

together with Persæus, a pupil of Zeno. Another writer in Buhle (ii.

445) calls him so, mentioning one of his letters addressed to Zeno.

Other accounts (Ibid. ii. 431; 442; 446) describe him as a pupil of

Dionysius of Heraclea, or of Timon and Menedemus. A memorial of his

Stoicism is the introduction to his ‘Phænomena,’ a poem resembling the

hymn of Cleanthes. Asclepiades (Vita in Buhle, ii. 429), in calling him

a native of Tarsus, is only preferring a better-known Cilician town to

one less known.

[29] Hence his name ὁ Μεταθέμενος. On his writings, consult Diog. vii.

166; 37; 23; v. 92; Athen. vii. 281, d; x. 437, e; Cic. Acad. ii. 22,

71; Tusc. ii. 25, 60; Fin. v. 31, 94. Previously to Zeno, he is said to

have studied under Heraclides ὁ Ποντικὸς, Alexinus, and Menedemus.

[30] Diog. 177; Plut. Cleomen. 2; 11; Athen. viii. 354, e. Sphærus’

presence in Egypt seems to belong to the time before he became

connected with Cleomenes. He was a pupil of Cleanthes (Diog. vii. 185;

Athen. l.c.) when he went to Egypt, and resided there at the court of

Ptolemy for several years. He had left Egypt by 221 B.C., but was then

himself no longer a member of the Stoic School at Athens. It is

possible that Sphærus may first have come to Cleomenes on a commission

from the Egyptian king. In that case, the Ptolemy referred to must have

been either Ptolemy Euergetes or Ptolemy Philadelphus—certainly not

Philopator, as Diog. 177 says. If, however, the view is taken that it

was Ptolemy Philopator, it may be supposed that Sphærus repaired to

Egypt with Cleomenes in 221 B.C. Sphærus’ numerous writings (Diog. 178:

Λακωνικὴ πολιτεία also in Athen. iv. 141, 6) refer to all parts of

philosophy, and to some of the older philosophers. According to Cic.

Tusc. iv. 24, 53, his definitions were in great esteem in the Stoic

School.

[31] Athenodorus, a native of Soli (Diog. vii. 38; 100); Callippus of

Corinth (Diog. 38); Philonides of Thebes, who went with Persæus to

Antigonus (Diog. 9; 38); Posidonius of Alexandria (Diog. 38); Zeno of

Sidon, a pupil of Diodorus Cronus, who joined Zeno (Diog. 38; 16;

Suid.).

[32] Baguet, De Chrysippo. Annal. Lovan. vol. iv. Lovan. 1822.

[33] Εἰ μὴ γὰρ ἦν Χρύσιππος οὐκ ἂν ἦν στοά (Diog. 183). Cic. Acad. ii.

24, 75: Chrysippum, qui fulcire putatur porticum Stoicorum, Athen.

viii. 335, b.: Χρύσιππον τὸν τῆς στοᾶς ἡγεμόνα. See Baguet, p. 16.

[34] It is recorded (Diog. 179) that he was brought up in early life as

a racer, which is an exceedingly suspicious statement, (confer D, 168);

and that his paternal property was confiscated (Hecato in Diog. 181).

Subsequently, his domestic establishment was scanty, consisting of one

old servant (Diog. 185; 181; 183); but whether this was the result of

Stoicism or of poverty is not known. The Floril. Monac. (in Stob.

Floril. ed. Mein. iv. 289) 262 calls him λιτὸς, ἔχων χρήματα πολλά.

[35] According to Apollodorus in Diog. 184, he died c. 205 B.C., in his

73rd year, which would make 281 to 276 the year of his birth. According

to Lucian, Macrob. 20, he attained the age of 81, and, according to

Valer. Max. viii. 7 ext. 10, completed the 39th book of his logic in

his eightieth year.

[36] This is the view of Diog. 179; Plut. De Exil. 14, p. 605; Strabo,

xiii. 1. 57, p. 610; xiv. 4, 8, p. 671, and most writers. Alexander

Polyhistor, however, in Diog. and Suid. Ζήν. call him a native of

Tarsus; and since his father Apollonius migrated from Tarsus to Soli

(Strabo, p. 671), it is possible that Chrysippus may have been born in

Tarsus.

[37] On this point all authorities are agreed. When and how he came to

Athens is not recorded. He subsequently obtained the rights of

citizenship there (Plut. Sto. Rep. 4, 2, p. 1034).

[38] Diog. 179. This statement cannot be tested by chronology.

Authorities, however, do not look promising.

[39] Diog. Pro. 15. Strabo, xiii. 1, 57, 610.

[40] Diog. vii. 183. It is possible, as Ritter, iii. 524, supposes,

that he was for some time doubtful about Stoicism, whilst he was under

the influence of the Academic Scepticism, and that during this time he

wrote the treatise against συνήθεια. This is possible, but not

probable. But that he should have separated from Cleanthes, and have

set up a school in the Lyceum in opposition to him, is unlikely, and

does not follow from the words of Diog. 179; 185.

[41] Diog. 184; iv. 62. Cic. Acad. ii. 27, 87. Plut. Sto. Rep. p. 10,

3, 1036. These passages refer particularly to Chrysippus’ six books

κατὰ τῆς συνηθείας. On the other hand, his pupil Aristocreon, in Plut.

l.c. 2, 5, commends him as being τῶν Ἀκαδημιακῶν στραγγαλίδων κοπίδα.

(Conf. Plut. Comm. Not. i. 4, p. 1059).

[42] When a learner, he is said to have used these words to Cleanthes:

‘Give me the principles; the proofs I can find myself.’ Subsequently it

was said of him: ‘If the Gods have any logic, it is that of Chrysippus’

(Diog. 179). See Cic. N. D. i. 15, 30, where the Epicurean calls him

Stoicorum somniorum vaferrimus interpres: ii. 6, 16; iii. 10, 25:

Divin. i. 3, 6: Chrysippus acerrimo vir ingenio. Senec. Benefic. i. 3,

8; 4, 1, complains of his captiousness. Dionys. Hal. Comp. Verb. 68,

calls him the most practical logician, but the most careless writer.

Krische, Forsch. i. 445.

[43] Diog. 180. Athen. xiii. 565, a. Damasc. V. Isid. 36. Cic. Tusc. i.

45, 108.

[44] Diog. 179; 183.

[45] Diog. 185, mentions it as deserving of especial notice, that he

refused the invitation of Ptolemy to court, and dedicated none of his

numerous writings to a prince.

[46] Cic. Acad. ii. 47, 143. Diog. 179. Plut. Sto. Rep. 4, 1, p. 1034.

According to the latter passage, Antipater had written a special

treatise περὶ τῆς Κλεάνθους καὶ Χρυσίππου διαφορᾶς.

[47] Quid enim est a Chrysippo prætermissum in Stoicis? Cic. Fin. i. 2,

6.

[48] According to Diog. 180, there were not fewer than 750. Conf.

Valer. Max. viii. 7, ext. 10; Lucian, Hermotim. 48.

[49] This appeared to the Epicureans disparaging to the honour of their

master. Hence the charge that Chrysippus had written against Epicurus

in rivalry (Diog. x. 26, and the criticism of Apollodorus in Diog. vii.

181).

[50] Baguet, pp. 114–357, discusses the subject very fully, but omits

several fragments. As to his logical treatises, of which alone there

were 311 (Diog. 198), see Nicolai, De logicis Chrysippi libris:

Quedlinb. 1859. Prantl, Gesch. d. Log. i. 404. Petersen (Philosoph.

Chrysip. Fundamenta: Hamburg, 1827, 321) attempts a systematic

arrangement of all the known books.

[51] See Cic. De Orat. i. 11, 50; Dionys. Hal. See above 46, 3; Diog.

vii. 180; x. 27. Galen, Differ. Puls. ii. 10; vol. viii. 631 K;

Hippocr. et Plat. Plac. ii. 2; iii. 2; vol. v. 213, 295, 308, 312, 314,

and Baguet, 26. See also Plut. Sto. Rep. 28, 2; and Bergk, Commentat.

de Chrys. lib. περὶ ἀποφατικῶν: Cassel, 1841.

[52] The circumstances of his death are related differently in Diog.

184; but both stories are untrustworthy. The story of the ass is also

told in Lucian, Macrob. 25 of Philemon; the other version in Diog. iv.

44; 61 of Arcesilaus and Lacydes. On the statue of Chrysippus in the

Ceramicus see Diog. vii. 182; Cic. Fin. i. 11, 39; Pausan. i. 17, 2;

Plut. Sto. Rep. 2, 5.

[53] In Stob. Floril. 40, 8, mention is made of the honourable position

enjoyed by the Athenian Chremonides, who had been banished from his

country. The banishment of Chremonides being placed in the year 263

B.C., Teles’ treatise περὶ φυγῆς must have been written between 260 and

250 B.C. This is further proved by the fact that there is no reference

in the fragments preserved to persons or circumstances later than this

date. The philosophers to whom reference is made are the Cynics

Diogenes, Crates, Metrocles, Stilpo, Bio the Borysthenite, Zeno, and

Cleanthes (95, 21), the latter being called ὁ Ἄσσιος.

[54] Floril. 5, 67; 40, 8; 91, 33; 93, 31; 98, 72; 108, 82 and 83.

[55] According to Suid., he was born c. 275 B.C., and died in his 80th

year.

[56] See p. 41, 2.

[57] Conf. Diog. 54: ὁ δὲ Χρύσιππος διαφερόμενος πρὸς αὐτόν ...

κριτήριά φησιν εἶναι αἴσθησιν καὶ πρόληψιν. That he was junior to

Aratus appears by his commentary on Aratus’ poem. See Appendix to

Geminus, Elem. Astron. (Petavii Doctr. Temp. III. 147). The Vita Arati

(Von Buhle’s Aratus, vol. ii. 443), probably confounding him with the

Peripatetic Boëthus, calls him a native of Sidon.

[58] We shall have occasion to prove this in speaking of his views of a

criterion, and of his denial of a conflagration and destruction of the

world. Nevertheless, he is frequently appealed to as an authority among

the Stoics. Philo, Incorruptib. M. 947, C, classes him among ἄνδρες ἐν

τοῖς Στωϊκοῖς δόγμασιν ἰσχυκότες.

[59] This follows from the great importance of Chrysippus, and the

esteem in which he was held from the very first, and is confirmed by

the number of persons to whom he wrote treatises. See the list from

Diog. 189 in Fabric. Bibl. iii. 549. It is, however, ambiguous whether

πρὸς means to or against.

[60] Aristocreon, the nephew of Chrysippus, is the only pupil who can

be definitely mentioned by name. See Diog. vii. 185; Plut. Sto. Rep. 2,

5, p. 1033.

[61] What is known of this philosopher is limited to the statements in

Diog. 35; Suid. Ζήν. Διοσκ.; Eus. Pr. Ev. xv. 13, 7; Arius Didymus,

Ibid. xv. 17, 2; that he was a native of Tarsus (in Suid. τινὲς say of

Sidon, evidently confounding him with the Zeno mentioned p. 44, 3);

that he was the son of Dioscorides, the pupil and follower of

Chrysippus; that he left many pupils, but few writings; and that he

doubted a conflagration of the world.

[62] According to Diog. vi. 81; Lucian, Macrob. 20, he was a native of

Seleucia on the Tigris; but he is sometimes called a native of Babylon

(Diog. vii. 39; 55; Cic. N. D. i. 15, 41; Divin. i. 3, 6; Plut. De

Exil. 14, p. 605). Cic. Divin. i. 3, 6, calls him a pupil of

Chrysippus; and Acad. ii. 30, 98, the instructor of Carneades in

dialectic. Plut. Alex. Virt. 5, p. 328, calls him a pupil of Zeno (of

Tarsus). Zeno, he says, Διογένη τὸν Βαβυλώνιον ἔπεισε φιλοσοφεῖν. Diog.

vii. 71, mentions a διαλεκτικὴ τέχνη of his; and, vii. 55 and 57, a

τέχνη περὶ φωνῆς. Cic. Divin. i. 3, 6, speaks of a treatise on

divination. Athen. iv. 168, e, of a treatise περὶ εὐγενείας, xii. 526.

d, of a work περὶ νόμων—the same work probably which, according to Cic.

Legg. iii. 5, 14, was written ‘a Dione Stoico.’ Cic. Off. iii. 12, 51,

calls him ‘magnus et gravis Stoicus;’ Seneca, De Ira, iii. 38, 1,

mentions a trait showing great presence of mind. Diogenes was, without

doubt, aged in 156 B.C. (Cic. De Senec. 7, 23). According to Lucian, he

attained the age of 88, and may therefore have died 150 B.C.

[63] It was often supposed, on the strength of Cic. N. D. i. 15, 41,

Divin. i. 3, 6, that Diogenes was the immediate successor of

Chrysippus. The words, however, consequens or subsequens, by no means

necessarily imply it. On the authority of Arius, Eusebius, and Suidas,

it would seem that Zeno was the successor of Chrysippus, and that

Diogenes followed Zeno.

[64] Cic. Off. iii. 12, 51, only calls him his pupil; but it is clear

that he taught in Athens from Plut. Ti. Gracch. c. 8, as Zumpt, Ueber

die philos. Schulen in Athen. Abh. d. Berl. Acad. 1842, Hist. phil. kl.

p. 103, already remarks; and Plut. Tranq. An. 9, p. 469, seems to imply

that he continued to live at Athens after leaving Cilicia. The same

fact is conveyed by the mention of Diogenists and Panætiasts at Athens

(Athen. v. c. 2, p. 186, a); by the charge brought against Antipater

(Plut. Garrul. c. 23, p. 514; Numen. in Eus. Pr. Ev. xiv. 8, 6; Cic.

Acad ii. 6, 17, and the fragment from Acad. Post. I. in Non. p. 65),

that he never ventured to dispute with Carneades; and by Diog. iv. 65;

Stob. Floril. 119, 19. According to these two authorities, he

voluntarily put an end to his own life. In Acad. ii. 47, 143, Cicero

calls him and Archedemus ‘duo vel principes dialecticorum,

opiniosissimi homines.’ It appears from Off. iii. 12, 51, where he is

also called ‘homo acutissimus,’ that he pronounced a severer judgment

on several moral questions than Diogenes. Sen. Ep. 92, 5, reckons him

among the magnos Stoicæ sectæ auctores. Epictet. Diss. iii. 21, 7,

speaks of the φορὰ Ἀντιπάτρου καὶ Ἀρχεδήμου. See Van Lynden, De

Panætio, 33; and Fabric. Biblioth. iii. 538 for his numerous lost

treatises.

[65] Cic. l.c.; Strabo xiv. 4, 14, p. 674, Epictet. l.c.; Diog. vii.

55. It does not follow that they were cotemporaries, but only that

their writings and philosophy were the same. We have otherwise no

accurate information as to the date of Archedemus. Passages where he is

mentioned may be found in Fabric. Bibl. III. 540. He also appears to be

meant in Simpl. De Cœlo, Schol. in Arist. 505, a, 45. In Diog. 134, he

appears to be placed between Chrysippus and Posidonius. In Plut. De

Exil. 14, 605, he follows Antipater. According to this authority he

established a school in Babylon, and because he came there from Athens,

Plutarch appears to have considered him an Athenian.

[66] Apollodorus of Athens, the compiler of the Βιβλιοθήκη, a

well-known grammarian, is also mentioned as a pupil of Diogenes

(Scymnus, Chius Perieges. v. 20). His chronicle, dedicated to Attalus

II., Philadelphus of Pergamum (158–138 B.C.), and probably drawn up 144

B.C., would seem to corroborate this assertion. Panætius, whose pupil

he is elsewhere called (Suid. Ἀπολλόδ.), was himself a pupil of

Diogenes’ successor, Antipater (Cic. Divin. i. 3, 6), and can hardly

have been older than Apollodorus.

Another grammarian belonging to the School of Diogenes is Zenodotus

(Diog. vii. 30), supposing him to be identical with the Alexandrian

Zenodotus (Suid. Ζηνόδ.). A third is perhaps the celebrated

Aristarchus, whom Scymnus calls a fellow-disciple of Apollodorus. A

fourth, Crates of Mallos, called by Strabo, xiv. 5, 16, p. 676, the

instructor of Panætius, by Suid. a Stoic philosopher, who in Varro,

Lat. ix. 1, appeals to Chrysippus against Aristarchus.

Antipater’s pupils are Heraclides of Tarsus (Diog. vii. 121); Sosigenes

(Alex. Aphr. De Mixt. 142); C. Blossius of Cumæ (Plut. Ti. Gracch. 8,

17 and 20; Val. Max. iv. 7, 1; Cic. Læl. 11, 37). Eudromus, mentioned

by Diog. vii. 39, appears to belong to the time between Chrysippus and

Panætius. Between Zeno of Tarsus and Diogenes, Diog. vii. 84, names a

certain Apollodorus, the author, probably, of the fragments in Stob.

Ecl. i. 408 and 520. Possibly, however, he may be identical with the

Apollodorus mentioned by Cic. N. D. i. 34, 93, and consequently a

cotemporary of Zeno. In Diog. vii. 39, he is called Ἀπολλόδωρος ὁ

Ἔφιλλος, instead of which Cobet reads Ἀπολλόδωρος καὶ Σύλλος.

Apollodorus the Athenian, mentioned by Diog. vii. 181, is without doubt

the Epicurean, known to us also from Diog. x. 2 and 25. Krische,

Forsch. 26, thinks even that the passages in Cicero refer to him.

The age of Diogenes of Ptolemais (Diog. vii. 41), of Œnopides mentioned

by Stob. Ecl. i. 58; Macrob. Sat. i. 17, together with Diogenes and

Cleanthes, and of Nicostratus, mentioned by Philodemus περὶ θεῶν

διαγωγῆς Tab. I. 2 and perhaps by Artemidorus Oneirocrit. I. 2 Sch. is

quite unknown. Nicostratus, however, must have written before the

middle of the first century before Christ. He is probably distinct from

the Nicostratus who wrote on the Aristotelian categories in an adverse

spirit, and is referred to by Simpl. in Categ. Schol. in Arist. 40, a;

24, b, 16; 41, b, 27; 47, b, 23; 49, b, 43; 72, b, 6; 74, b, 4; 81, b,

12; 83, a, 37; 84, a, 28; 86, b, 20; 87, b, 30; 88, b, 3 and 11; 89, a,

1; 91, a, 25; b, 21. For this Nicostratus used the treatise of a

certain Roman Lucius, whereas Roman treatises on the Categories can

hardly have existed before the time of Philodemus, a cotemporary of

Cicero. However, both Lucius and Nicostratus appear to have been

Stoics.

[67] Already Simpl. in Cat. Schol. in Arist. 49, a, 16, says: παρὰ τοῖς

Στωϊκοῖς, ὧν ἐφ’ ἡμῶν καὶ ἡ διδασκαλία καὶ τὰ πλεῖστα τῶν συγγραμμάτων

ἐπιλέλοιπεν.

[68] Plut. Plac. Pro. 2: οἱ μὲν οὖν Στωϊκοὶ ἔφασαν, τὴν μὲν σοφίαν

εἶναι θείων τε καὶ ἀνθρωπίνων ἐπιστήμην· τὴν δὲ φιλοσοφίαν ἄσκησιν

τέχνης ἐπιτηδείου· ἐπιτήδειον δ’ εἶναι μίαν καὶ ἀνωτάτω τὴν ἀρετήν·

ἀρετὰς δὲ τὰς γενικωτάτας τρεῖς, φυσικὴν, ἠθικὴν, λογικὴν, κ.τ.λ. See

also Diog. vii. 92.

[69] In Seneca, Ep. 89, 4, wisdom is the highest good for the human

mind, and philosophy is a striving after wisdom: wisdom is defined to

be the knowledge of things human and divine; philosophy to be studium

virtutis, or studium corrigendæ mentis. This striving after virtue

cannot be distinguished from virtue itself: Philosophia studium

virtutis est, sed per ipsam virtutem. Seneca further observes (Fr. 17,

in Lactant. Inst. iii. 15): Philosophia nihil aliud est quam recta

vivendi ratio, vel honeste vivendi scientia, vel ars rectæ vitæ agendæ.

Non errabimus, si dixerimus philosophiam esse legem bene honesteque

vivendi, et qui dixerit illam regulam vitæ, suum illi [nomen] reddidit.

Plut. see previous note.

[70] See Diog. vii. 46: αὐτὴν δὲ τὴν διαλεκτικὴν ἀναγκαίαν εἶναι καὶ

ἀρετὴν ἐν εἴδει περιέχουσαν ἀρετὰς, κ.τ.λ.

[71] Chrys. in Plut. Sto. Rep. 9, 6: δεῖ γὰρ τούτοις [sc. τοῖς

φυσικοῖς] συνάψαι τὸν περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν λόγον, οὐκ οὔσης ἄλλης

ἀρχῆς αὐτῶν ἀμείνονος οὐδ’ ἀναφορᾶς, οὐδ’ ἄλλου τινὸς ἕνεκεν τῆς

φυσικῆς θεωρίας παραληπτῆς οὔσης ἢ πρὸς τὴν περὶ ἀγαθῶν ἢ κακῶν

διάστασιν.

[72] Chrys. in Plut. Sto. Rep. 3, 2: ὅσοι δὲ ὑπολαμβάνουσι φιλοσόφοις

ἐπιβάλλειν μάλιστα τὸν σχολαστικὸν βίον ἀπ’ ἀρχῆς, οὗτοί μοι δοκοῦσι

διαμαρτάνειν ὑπονοοῦντες διαγωγῆς τινος ἕνεκεν δεῖν τοῦτο ποιεῖν ἢ

ἄλλου τινὸς τούτῳ παραπλησίου, καὶ τὸν ὅλον βίον οὕτω πως διελκύσαι·

τοῦτο δ’ ἔστιν, ἂν σαφῶς θεωρηθῇ, ἡδέως. Διαγωγὴ had, it is true, been

treated by Aristotle, whose school is here referred to, as an end in

itself; but Aristotle had carefully distinguished διαγωγὴ from ἡδονή.

[73] p. 19.

[74] Cic. Acad. ii. 42, 129: Herillum, qui in cognitione et scientia

summum bonum ponit: qui cum Zenonis auditor esset, vides quantum ab eo

dissenserit, et quam non multum a Platone. Fin. ii. 13, 43: Herillus

autem ad scientiam omnia revocans unum quoddam bonum vidit. iv. 14, 36:

In determining the highest good, the Stoics act as one-sidedly, as if

ipsius animi, ut fecit Herillus, cognitionem amplexarentur, actionem

relinquerent. v. 25, 73: Sæpe ab Aristotele, a Theophrasto mirabiliter

est laudata per se ipsa rerum scientia. Hoc uno captus Herillus

scientiam summum bonum esse defendit, nec rem ullam aliam per se

expetendam. Diog. vii. 165: Ἥριλλος ... τέλος εἶπε τὴν ἐπιστήμην. Ibid.

vii. 37. With less accuracy, it is asserted by Iambl. in Stob. Ecl. i.

918, that we are raised to the society of the gods, κατὰ Ἥριλλον,

ἐπιστήμῃ.

[75] Sen. Ep. 89, 8: Nam nec philosophia sine virtute est nec sine

philosophia virtus. Ibid. 53, 8: We all lie in the slumber of error:

sola autem nos philosophia excitabit ... illi te totum dedica.

[76] Lact. Inst. vii. 7: Ad virtutem capessendam nasci homines, Ariston

disseruit. See Stob. Ecl. 4, 111.

[77] Plut. De Audiendo, c. 8, p. 42: οὔτε γὰρ βαλανείου, φησὶν ὁ

Ἀρίστων, οὔτε λόγου μὴ καθαίροντος ὄφελός ἐστιν.

[78] Stob. Floril. 82, 15. Diog. vii. 161.

[79] Stob. Floril. 82, 11.

[80] Ibid. 7.

[81] Diog. vii. 162: μάλιστα δὲ προσεῖχε Στωϊκῷ δόγματι τῷ τὸν σόφον

ἀδόξαστον εἶναι.

[82] See Diog. vii. 163.

[83] Aristo (in the Ὁμοιώματα) in Stob. Floril. 82, 16: ὁ ἐλλέβορος

ὁλοσχερέστερος μὲν ληφθεὶς καθαίρει, εἰς δὲ πάνυ σμικρὰ τριφθεὶς

πνίγει· οὕτω καὶ ἡ κατὰ φιλοσοφίαν λεπτολογία.

[84] Stob. l.c. 4, 110.

[85] See following note and Cic. Acad. ii. 39, 123: Aristo Chius, qui

nihil istorum (sc. physicorum) sciri putat posse.

[86] Diog. vii. 160: τόν σε φυσικὸν τόπον καὶ τὸν λογικὸν ἀνῄρει, λέγων

τὸν μὲν εἶναι ὑπὲρ ἡμᾶς, τὸν δ’ οὐδὲν πρὸς ἡμᾶς, μόνον δὲ τὸν ἠθικὸν

εἶναι πρὸς ἡμᾶς. Stob. Floril. 80, 7: Ἀρίστων ἔφη τῶν ζητουμένων παρὰ

τοῖς φιλοσόφοις τὰ μὲν εἶναι πρὸς ἡμᾶς, τὰ δὲ μηδὲν πρὸς ἡμᾶς, τὰ δ’

ὑπὲρ ἡμᾶς. πρὸς ἡμᾶς μὲν τὰ ἠθικὰ, μὴ πρὸς ἡμᾶς δὲ τὰ διαλεκτικά· μὴ

γὰρ συμβάλλεσθαι πρὸς ἐπανόρθωσιν βίου· ὑπὲρ ἡμᾶς δὲ τὰ φυσικά· ἀδύνατα

γὰρ ἐγνῶσθαι καὶ οὐδὲ παρέχειν χρείαν. Minuc. Fel. Octav. 13, and

Lactant. Ins. iii. 20, attribute this utterance to Socrates. According

to Cic. De Nat. De. I. 14, 37, Aristo expressed doubts about the

existence of a God.

[87] Sext. Math. vii. 13: καὶ Ἀρίστων δὲ ὁ Χῖος οὐ μόνον, ὥς φασι,

παρῃτεῖτο τήν τε φυσικὴν καὶ λογικὴν θεωρίαν διὰ τὸ ἀνωφελὲς καὶ πρὸς

κακοῦ τοῖς φιλοσοφοῦσιν ὑπάρχειν, ἀλλὰ καὶ τοῦ ἠθικοῦ τόπου τινὰς

συμπεριέγραψε καθάπερ τόν τε παραινετικὸν καὶ τὸν ὑποθετικὸν τόπον·

τούτους γὰρ εἰς τίτθας ἂν καὶ παιδαγωγοὺς πίπτειν·—(almost a literal

translation is given of these words by Seneca, Ep. 89, 13)—ἀρκεῖσθαι δὲ

πρὸς τὸ μακαρίως βιῶναι τὸν οἰκειοῦντα μὲν πρὸς ἀρετὴν λόγον,

ἀπαλλοτριοῦντα δὲ κακίας, κατατρέχοντα δὲ τῶν μεταξὺ τούτων, περὶ ἃ οἱ

πολλοὶ πτοηθέντες κακοδαιμονοῦσιν. Seneca, Ep. 94, 1: Eam partem

philosophiæ, quæ dat propria cuique personæ præcepta ... quidam solam

receperunt ... sed Ariston Stoicus e contrario hanc partem levem

existimat et quæ non descendat in pectus usque; at illam habentem

præcepta [? ad vitam beatam] plurimum ait proficere ipsa decreta

philosophiæ constitutionemque summi boni, quam qui bene intellexit ac

didicit, quid in quaque re faciendum sit, sibi ipse præcepit. This is

then further expanded following Aristo.

[88] Seneca, § 12, asks for whom should such exhortations be

necessary—for him who has right views of good and evil, or for him who

has them not? Qui non habet, nihil a te adjuvabitur; aures ejus

contraria monitionibus tuis fama possedit; qui habet exactum judicium

de fugiendis petendisque, scit, quid sibi faciendum sit, etiam te

tacente; tota ergo pars ista philosophiæ submoveri potest. In § 17, he

continues: A madman must be cured, and not exhorted; nor is there any

difference between general madness and the madness which is treated

medically.

[89] Diog. vii. 39.

[90] Logical treatises, those περὶ λέξεων, λύσεις καὶ ἔλεγχοι, περὶ

λόγου—and if there were a rhetoric (see p. 40, 3) the τέχνη—physical

treatises, those περὶ ὅλου and περὶ οὐσίας. Diog. 4, 39.

[91] Plut. Sto. Rep. 8, 2: ἔλυε δὲ σοφίσματα καὶ τὴν διαλεκτικὴν, ὡς

τοῦτο ποιεῖν δυναμένην, ἐκέλευε παραλαμβάνειν τοὺς μαθητάς. That he

occasionally not only solved but propounded sophisms is proved by the

fallacy quoted Ibid. i. Conf. Diog. vii. 25

[92] See above p. 36.

[93] According to Diog. 32, he declared at the beginning of his Polity

the ἐγκύκλιος παιδεία to be useless—a testimony worth very little; for

it is a moot point, in what sense Zeno made this statement. Perhaps he

was only anxious to exclude those studies from the narrower sphere of

philosophy (as Sen. Ep. 88). Perhaps his Polity was nearer Cynicism

than any other of his writings.

[94] Proofs will be given later.

[95] The Catalogue in Diog. 174, περὶ λόγου 3 B. (Mohnike Cleanth. 102,

believes this work was a treatise on life according to reason. The

title is against this view, and it is also improbable, inasmuch as

treatises by Sphærus and Chrysippus bearing the same title, are

exclusively logical), mentions logical treatises περὶ λόγου, περὶ

ἐπιστήμης, περὶ ἰδίων, περὶ τῶν ἀπόρων, περὶ διαλεκτικῆς, περὶ

κατηγορημάτων. To these may be added, from Athen. 467, d; 471, b, the

rhetorical treatises περὶ τρόπων and περὶ μεταλήψεως. Of greater

importance were the physical and theological treatises: περὶ τῆς τοῦ

Ζήνωνος φυσιολογίας (2 B.); τῶν Ἡρακλείτου ἐξηγήσεις (4 B.); πρὸς

Δημόκριτον, περὶ θεῶν, περὶ μαντικῆς (Cic. Divin. i. 3, 6); περὶ

γιγάντων (in Plut. De Flum. 5, 3); and the μυθικὰ (Athen. xiii. 572,

e), which is probably identical with the ἀρχαιολογία of Diogenes.

[96] Diog. 41.

[97] Diog. vii. 178, mentions (1) logical and rhetorical writings: περὶ

τῶν Ἐρετρικῶν φιλοσόφων, περὶ ὁμοίων, περὶ ὅρων, περὶ ἕξεως, περὶ τῶν

ἀντιλεγομένων (3 B.), περὶ λόγου, τέχνη διαλεκτική (2 B.), περὶ

κατηγορημάτων, περὶ ἀμφιβολιῶν; (2) treatises on science: περὶ κόσμου

(2 B.), περὶ στοιχείων, περὶ σπέρματος, περὶ τύχης, περὶ ἐλαχίστων,

πρὸς τὰς ἀτόμους καὶ τὰ εἴδωλα, περὶ αἰσθητηρίων, περὶ Ἡρακλείτου (5

B.), περὶ μαντικῆς. That Sphærus’ definitions were particularly valued,

has been already seen, 44, 2.

[98] Chrys. in the 3rd B., περὶ θεῶν (in Plut. Sto. Rep. 9, 4); οὐ γάρ

ἐστιν εὑρεῖν τῆς δικαιοσύνης ἄλλην ἀρχὴν οὐδ’ ἄλλην γένεσιν ἢ τὴν ἐκ

τοῦ Διὸς καὶ τὴν ἐκ τῆς κοινῆς φύσεως· ἐντεῦθεν γὰρ δεῖ πᾶν τὸ τοιοῦτον

τὴν ἀρχὴν ἔχειν, εἰ μέλλομέν τι ἐρεῖν περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν. The same

writer, in φυσικαὶ θέσεις (Ibid. 5): οὐ γάρ ἐστιν ἄλλως οὐδ’

οἰκειότερον ἐπελθεῖν ἐπὶ τὸν τῶν ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν λόγον οὐδ’ ἐπὶ τὰς

ἀρετὰς οὐδ’ ἐπὶ εὐδαιμονίαν, ἀλλ’ ἢ ἀπὸ τῆς κοινῆς φύσεως καὶ ἀπὸ τῆς

τοῦ κόσμου διοικήσεως. Further details above p. 47, 2.

[99] Sext. Math. vii. 17; Diog. 40.

[100] The chief divisions of the logic of the Stoics (Diog. 42, 46) are

considered important for special purposes. The doctrine περὶ κανόνων

καὶ κριτηρίων is of use, helping us to truth, by making us examine our

notions; ὁρικὸν, because it leads to the knowledge of things by means

of conceptions; διαλεκτικὴ (which includes the whole of formal logic),

because it produces ἀπροπτωσία (= ἐπιστήμη τοῦ πότε δεῖ συγκατατίθεσθαι

καὶ μὴ), ἀνεικαιότης (= ἰσχυρὸς λόγος πρὸς τὸ εἰκὸς, ὥστε μὴ ἐνδιδόναι

αὐτῷ), ἀνελεγξία (= ἰσχὺς ἐν λόγῳ, ὥστε μὴ ἀπάγεσθαι ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ εἰς τὸ

ἀντικείμενον), ἀματαιότης (= ἕξις ἀναφέρουσα τὰς φαντασίας ἐπὶ τὸν

ὀρθὸν λόγον). Its value is therefore chiefly negative, as a

preservative from error. See Seneca, Ep. 89, 9: Proprietates verborum

exigit et structuram et argumentationes, ne pro vero falsa subrepant.

Sext. Math. vii. 23: ὀχυρωτικὸν δὲ εἶναι τῆς διανοίας τὸν διαλεκτικὸν

τόπον; Pyrrh. ii. 247: ἐπὶ τὴν τέχνην τὴν διαλεκτικήν φασιν ὡρμηκέναι

οἱ διαλεκτικοὶ (the Stoics), οὐχ ἁπλῶς ὑπὲρ τοῦ γνῶναί τι ἐκ τίνος

συνάγεται, ἀλλὰ προηγουμένως ὑπὲρ τοῦ δι’ ἀποδεικτικῶν λόγων τὰ ἀληθῆ

καὶ τὰ ψευδῆ κρίνειν ἐπίστασθαι.

[101] This may be seen in Sext. Pyrrh. ii. 134–203, 229; Math. viii.

300; as well as from the catalogue of the writings of Chrysippus in

Diogenes.

[102] The only part which is censured by Chrysippus (in Plut. Sto. Rep.

10, 1) is the sceptical logic, which leaves contradictions unsolved:

τοῖς μὲν γὰρ ἐποχὴν ἄγουσι περὶ πάντων ἐπιβάλλει, φησὶ, τοῦτο ποιεῖν,

καὶ συνεργόν ἐστι πρὸς ὃ βούλονται· τοῖς δ’ ἐπιστήμην ἐνεργαζομένοις,

καθ’ ἣν ὁμολογουμένως βιωσόμεθα τὰ ἐναντία στοιχειοῦν.

[103] Cic. Parad. Proœm.: Cato autem perfectus mea sententia Stoicus

... in ea est hæresi, quæ nullum sequitur florem orationis neque

dilatat argumentum: minutis interrogatiunculis, quasi punctis, quod

proposuit efficit. Cic. Fin. iv. 3, 7: Pungunt quasi aculeis

interrogatiunculis angustis, quibus etiam qui assentiuntur nihil

commutantur animo. See also Diog. vii. 18, 20.

[104] In Sextus Empiricus, Διαλεκτικοὶ is their ordinary name. It is

also found in Plut. Qu. Plat. x. 1, 2, p. 1008. Cic. Top. 2, 6; Fin.

iv. 3, 6.

[105] After the example of the Megarians, the Stoics were in the habit

of putting their arguments in the form of questions. Hence the terms

λόγον ἐρωτᾶν (Diog. vii. 186), interrogatio (Sen. Ep. 82, 9; 85, 1; 87,

11), interrogatiuncula (Cic.), which are employed even when the

arguments were not in this form.

[106] See p. 48, 1.

[107] Called μέρη, according to Diog. 39 also τόποι, εἴδη, γένη.

[108] Diog. 39: τριμερῆ φασιν εἶναι τὸν κατὰ φιλοσοφίαν λόγον· εἶναι

γὰρ αὐτοῦ τὸ μέν τι φυσικὸν, τὸ δὲ ἠθικὸν, τὸ δὲ λογικόν. οὕτω δὲ

πρῶτος διεῖλε Ζήνων ὁ Κιτιεὺς ἐν τῷ περὶ λόγου καὶ Χρύσιππος ἐν τῷ αʹ

περὶ λόγου καὶ ἐν τῇ αʹ τῶν φυσικῶν, καὶ Ἀπολλόδωρος ὁ Ἔφιλλος ἐν τῷ

πρώτῳ τῶν εἰς τὰ δόγματα εἰσαγωγῶν, καὶ Εὔδρομος ἐν τῇ ἠθικῇ

στοιχειώσει, καὶ Διογένης ὁ Βαβυλώνιος, καὶ Ποσειδώνιος. Sext. Math.

vii. 16. Sen. Ep. 89, 9; 14. The six divisions enumerated by Cleanthes

(Diog. 41)—Dialectic, Rhetoric, Ethics, Politics, Physics, Theology

(Diog. 41) may be easily reduced to three.

[109] According to Diog. 40, the first place was assigned to Logic, the

second to Science, the third to Ethics, by Zeno, Chrysippus,

Archedemus, Eudemus, and others. The same order, but inverted, is found

in Diogenes of Ptolemais, and in Seneca, Ep. 89, 9. The latter,

however, observes (Nat. Qu. Prol. 1) that the difference between that

part of philosophy which treats about God, and that which treats about

man, is as great as the difference between philosophy and other

departments, or even as between God and man. On the other hand,

Apollodorus places Ethics in the middle, as also Cleanthes does, and

likewise Panætius and Posidonius, if it is certain that they began with

science. This appears, however, only to have reference to their order

in discussion (see Sext. Math. vii. 22, probably on the authority of

Posidonius). A few (Diog. 40) asserted that the parts could be so

little separated, that they must be always treated together. The

statement of Chrysippus (in Plut. Sto. Rep. 9, 1), that Logic must come

first, and be followed by Ethics and Science, so that the theological

part may form the conclusion, only refers to the order in which they

ought to be taught.

[110] In Diog. 39; Sext. Math. vii. 17; Philo, Mut. Nom. p. 1055, E.

Hösch. (589 M); De Agricul. 189, D (302), philosophy is compared to an

orchard, Logic represents the fence, Science the trees. Ethics the

fruit; so that Ethics are the end and object of the whole. Philosophy

is also compared to a fortified town, in which the walls are

represented by Logic, but in which the position of the other two is not

clear; to an egg, Logic being the shell, and, according to Sextus,

Science being the white and Ethics the yolk, but the reverse according

to Diogenes. Dissatisfied with this comparison, Posidonius preferred to

compare philosophy to a living creature, in which Logic constitutes the

bones and muscles, Science the flesh and blood, and Ethics the soul.

But Diogenes has another version of this simile, according to which

Science represents the soul; and Ritter iii. 432, considers the version

of Diogenes to be the older of the two.

[111] See Sext. Pyrrh. ii. 13.

[112] Diog. 41: τὸ δὲ λογικὸν μέρος φασὶν ἔνιοι εἰς δύο διαιρεῖσθαι

ἐπιστήμας, εἰς ῥητορικὴν καὶ διαλεκτικήν ... τήν τε ῥητορικὴν ἐπιστήμην

οὖσαν τοῦ εὖ λέγειν περὶ τῶν ἐν διεξόδῳ λόγων καὶ τὴν διαλεκτικὴν τοῦ

ὀρθῶς διαλέγεσθαι περὶ τῶν ἐν ἐρωτήσει καὶ ἀποκρίσει λόγων. Sen. Ep.

89, 17: Superest ut rationalem partem philosophiæ dividam: omnis oratio

aut continua est aut inter respondentem et interrogantem discissa; hanc

διαλεκτικὴν, illam ῥητορικὴν placuit vocari. Cic. Fin. ii. 6, 17; Orat.

32, 113. Quintil. Inst. ii. 20, 7. According to these passages,

Rhetoric was by Zeno compared to the palm of the hand, and Dialectic to

the fist: quod latius loquerentur rhetores, dialectici autem

compressius. The Stoics agree with Aristotle in calling rhetoric

ἀντίστροφος τῇ διαλεκτικῇ (Sop. in Hermog. v. 15, Walz.). See Prantl,

Gesch. der Log. i. 413.

[113] Diog. 41: Some divide logic into rhetoric and dialectic: τινὲς δὲ

καὶ εἰς τὸ ὁρικὸν εἶδος, τὸ περὶ κανόνων καὶ κριτηρίων· ἔνιοι δὲ τὸ

ὁρικὸν περιαιροῦσι. (We have no reason to read as Ménage does

περιδιαιροῦσι, or to conjecture, as Meibom and Nicolai, De Log. Chrys.,

Lib. 23, do, παραδιαιροῦσι.) According to this passage, ὁρικὸν must be

identical with the doctrine of a criterium. In a subsequent passage,

however, the two are distinguished; the doctrine of a criterium is said

to be useful for the discovery of truth: καὶ τὸ ὁρικὸν δὲ ὁμοίως πρὸς

ἐπίγνωσιν τῆς ἀληθείας· διὰ γὰρ τῶν εὐνοιῶν τὰ πράγματα λαμβάνεται. We

may therefore suppose that in the passage first quoted the words should

be τὸ ὁρικὸν εἶδος καὶ τὸ περὶ κανόνων, κ.τ.λ. In this case, we may

understand by ὁρικὸν not only the theory of definition—a theory to

which Aristotle devoted a separate section at the end of his Analytics

(Anal. Post. ii.)—but besides a theoretical disquisition on the

formation of definitions, a collection of definitions of various

objects. Such collections are found in the treatises of Chrysippus

(Diog. 199, 189): περὶ τῶν ὅρων ζʹ. ὅρων διαλεκτικῶν στʹ. ὅρων τῶν κατὰ

γένος ζʹ. ὅρων τῶν κατὰ τὰς ἄλλας τέχνας αβʹ. ὅρων τῶν τοῦ ἀστείου βʹ.

ὅρων τῶν τοῦ φαύλου βʹ. ὅρων τῶν ἀναμέσων βʹ; besides the further

treatises περὶ τῶν οὐκ ὀρθῶς τοῖς ὅροις ἀντιλεγομένων ζʹ. Πιθανὰ εἰς

τοὺς ὅρους βʹ. The treatise περὶ εἰδῶν καὶ γενῶν βʹ may also be

included here; perhaps also that περὶ τῶν κατηγορημάτων πρὸς Μητρόδωρον

ιʹ. πρὸς Πάσυλον περὶ κατηγορημάτων δʹ, Diog. 191.

[114] No description of their system can dispense with this fundamental

enquiry, which had been already instituted by Zeno. It appears,

however, to have been treated by several writers as a branch of

dialectic. Diog. 43 says that the branch of dialectic which treats of

σημαινόμενα may be divided εἴς τε τὸν περὶ τῶν φαντασιῶν τόπον καὶ τῶν

ἐκ τούτων ὑφισταμένων λεκτῶν. (See Nicolai p. 23.) Compare with this

the words of Diocles, in Diog. 49: ἀρέσκει τοῖς Στωϊκοῖς περὶ φαντασίας

καὶ αἰσθήσεως προτάττειν λόγον, καθότι τὸ κριτήριον ᾧ ἡ ἀλήθεια τῶν

πραγμάτων γινώσκεται, κατὰ γένος φαντασία ἐστὶ καὶ καθότι ὁ περὶ

συγκαταθέσεως καὶ ὁ περὶ καταλήψεως καὶ νοήσεως λόγος προάγων τῶν ἄλλων

οὐκ ἄνευ φαντασίας συνίσταται. According to this passage, the branch of

dialectic which treated of φαντασία included the theory of knowledge.

Diog. 53, Petersen’s conjecture is singular (Phil. Chrys. Fund. p. 25)

that the theory of knowledge may have been understood by Chrysippus

under the name rhetoric.

[115] Our information on this head is very small. In the words:

ῥητορικὴ verba curat et sensus et ordinem, a division of rhetoric is

implied by Seneca, which differs in little, except in the position of

the chief parts, from that of Aristotle. A fourth part is added to the

three others by Diog. 43—on Delivery—εἶναι δ’ αὐτῆς τὴν διαίρεσιν εἴς

τε τὴν εὕρεσιν καὶ εἰς τὴν φράσιν, καὶ εἰς τάξιν καὶ εἰς τὴν ὑπόκρισιν.

Diogenes also claims for the Stoics the Aristotelian distinction

between three ways of speaking—συμβουλευτικὸς, δικανικὸς,

ἐγκωμιαστικός—and four parts in a speech: προοίμιον, διήγησις, τὰ πρὸς

τοὺς ἀντιδίκους, ἐπίλογος. Definitions of διήγησις and παράδειγμα are

given from Zeno by the anonymous author in Spengel, Rhet. Gr. i. 434,

23; 447, 11. The same author (Ibid. 454, 4) says that, according to

Chrysippus, the ἐπίλογος must be μονομερής. The Stoic definition of

rhetoric has been already given, p. 70, 1. Another—τέχνη περὶ κόσμου

καὶ εἰρημένου λόγου τάξιν—is attributed to Chrysippus by Plut. Sto.

Rep. 28, 1. Cic. Fin. iv. 3, 7, observes, in reference to the Stoic

rhetoric, and in particular to that of Chrysippus, that such was its

nature that si quis obmutescere concupierit, nihil aliud legere

debeat—that it dealt in nothing but words, being withal scanty in

expressions, and confined to subtleties. This neglect of the truly

rhetorical element appears already in the quotations from Plut. Sto.

Rep. 28, 2. We have not the slightest reason to complain, as Prantl

does, p. 413, of the purely rhetorical value of dialectic with the

Stoics.

[116] See p. 70, 1, Alex. Aphr. Top. 3: οἱ μὲν ἀπὸ τῆς Στοᾶς ὁριζόμενοι

τὴν διαλεκτικὴν ἐπιστήμην τοῦ εὖ λέγειν ὁρίζονται, τὸ δὲ εὖ λέγειν ἐν

τῷ ἀληθῆ καὶ προσήκοντα λέγειν εἶναι τιθέμενοι, τοῦτο δὲ ἴδιον

ἡγούμενοι τοῦ φιλοσόφου, κατὰ τῆς τελεωτάτης φιλοσοφίας φέρουσιν αὐτὸ

καὶ διὰ τοῦτο μόνος ὁ φιλόσοφος κατ’ αὐτοὺς διαλεκτικός. Aristotle had

used the term dialectic in another sense, but with Plato it expressed

the mode of procedure peculiar to a philosopher.

[117] See Anon. Prolegg. ad Hermog. Rhet. Gr. vii. 8, W.: οἱ Στωϊκοὶ δὲ

τὸ εὖ λέγειν ἔλεγον τὸ ἀληθῆ λέγειν.

[118] Diog. 42: ὅθεν καὶ οὕτως αὐτὴν [τὴν διαλεκτικὴν] ὁρίζονται,

ἐπιστήμην ἀληθῶν καὶ ψευδῶν καὶ οὐδετέρων. (The same, p. 62, quoted

from Posidonius, and in Sext. Math. xi. 187, and Suid. Διαλεκτική.)

οὐδετέρων being probably used, because dialectic deals not only with

judgments, but with conceptions and interrogations. Conf. Diog. 68.

[119] This is the meaning of the Stoic distinction between λόγος

ἐνδιάθετος and προφορικὸς, a distinction subsequently employed by Philo

and the Fathers, and really identical with that of Aristotle (Anal.

Post i. 10, 76 b, 24): οὐ πρὸς τὸν ἔξω λόγον, ἀλλὰ πρὸς τὸν ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ.

On this distinction see Heraclit. Alleg. Hom. c. 72, p. 142: διπλοῦς ὁ

λόγος· τούτων δ’ οἱ φιλόσοφοι (the Stoics are meant) τὸν μὲν ἐνδιάθετον

καλοῦσι, τὸν δὲ προφορικόν. ὁ μὲν οὖν τῶν ἔνδον λογισμῶν ἐστιν

ἐξάγγελος, ὁ δ’ ὑπὸ τοῖς στέρνοις καθεῖρκται. φασὶ δὲ τούτῳ χρῆσθαι καὶ

τὸ θεῖον. Sext. Math. viii. 275 (conf. Pyrrh. i. 76): οἱ δὲ Δογματικοὶ

... φασὶν ὅτι ἄνθρωπος οὐχὶ τῷ προφορικῷ λόγῳ διαφέρει τῶν ἀλόγων ζῴων

... ἀλλὰ τῷ ἐνδιαθέτῳ. The Stoics alone can be meant by the νεώτεροι in

Theo. Smyrn. Mus. c. 18, who are contrasted with the Peripatetics for

using the terms λόγος ἐνδιάθετος and προφορικός. They are also referred

to by Plut. C. Prin. Phil. 2, 1, p. 777: τὸ δὲ λέγειν, ὅτι δύο λόγοι

εἰσὶν, ὁ μὲν ἐνδιάθετος, ἡγεμόνος Ἑρμοῦ δῶρον, ὁ δ’ ἐν προφορᾷ,

διάκτορος καὶ ὀργανικὸς ἕωλόν ἐστι. The double form of Hermes is

explained by Heraclitus as referring to the twofold λόγος—Ἑρμῆς Χθόνιος

represents λόγον ἐνδιάθετον, and the heavenly Hermes (διάκτορος)

represents the προφορικόν. The distinction passed from the Stoics to

others, like Plut. Solert. An. 19, 1, p. 973; Galen, Protrept. i. 1.