Anaxarchus's Life

I. Anaxarchus was a native of Abdera. He was a pupil of Diogenes, of Smyrna; but, as some say, of Metrodorus, of Chios; who said that he was not even sure that he knew nothing; and Metrodorus was a pupil of Nessus, of Chios; though others assert that he was a disciple of Democritus.

I. Anaxarchus came from Abdera. He was a pupil of Diogenes of Smyrna, though some say he studied under Metrodorus of Chios. Metrodorus said he was not even sure that he knew nothing. He was a pupil of Nessus of Chios, though others say he studied under Democritus.

II. Anaxarchus too enjoyed the intimacy of Alexander, and flourished about the hundred and tenth olympiad. He had for an enemy Nicocreon, the tyrant of Cyprus. And on one occasion, when Alexander, at a banquet, asked him what he thought of the entertainment, he is said to have replied, “O king, everything is provided very sumptuously; and the only thing wanting is to have the head of some satrap served up;” hinting at Nicocreon. And Nicocreon did not forget his grudge against him for this; but after the death of the king, when Anaxarchus, who was making a voyage, was driven against his will into Cyprus, he took him and put him in a mortar, and commanded him to be pounded to death with iron pestles. And then they say that he, disregarding this punishment, uttered that celebrated saying, “Beat the bag of Anaxarchus, but you will not beat Anaxarchus himself.” And then, when Nicocreon commanded that his tongue should be cut out, it is said that he bit it off, and spit it at him. And we have written an epigram upon him in the following terms:—

II. Anaxarchus was also a close companion of Alexander and flourished around the 110th Olympiad. His enemy was Nicocreon, the tyrant of Cyprus. Once, at a banquet, Alexander asked Anaxarchus what he thought of the meal. He is said to have replied, “O king, everything is provided very lavishly. The only thing missing is the head of a satrap served on a platter.” He was hinting at Nicocreon. Nicocreon never forgave him for this. After the king died, Anaxarchus was on a voyage when he was driven against his will to Cyprus. Nicocreon seized him, put him in a mortar, and ordered him to be pounded to death with iron pestles. They say Anaxarchus showed no regard for this punishment and spoke the famous words, “Beat the bag of Anaxarchus, but you will not beat Anaxarchus himself.” Then Nicocreon ordered his tongue to be cut out. Anaxarchus is said to have bitten it off and spat it at him. We have written an epigram about him as follows:

III. Anaxarchus, on account of the evenness of his temper and the tranquillity of his life, was called the Happy. And he was a man to whom it was very easy to reprove men and bring them to temperance. Accordingly, he produced an alteration in Alexander who thought himself a God, for when he saw the blood flowing from some wound that he had received, he pointed to him with his finger, and said, “This is blood, and not:—

III. Anaxarchus was called the Happy because of his even temper and peaceful life. He found it very easy to rebuke people and persuade them to show self-restraint. He even changed Alexander, who thought he was a god. When Anaxarchus saw blood flowing from a wound Alexander had received, he pointed at him and said, “This is blood, and not:

But Plutarch says that it was Alexander himself who quoted these lines to his friends.

But Plutarch says that Alexander himself quoted these lines to his friends.

They also tell a story that Anaxarchus once drank to him, and then showed the goblet, and said:—

They also tell a story that Anaxarchus once drank to him, then showed the goblet and said:

I. Pyrrho was a citizen of Elis, and the son of Pleistarchus, as Diocles informs us, and, as Apollodorus in his Chronicles asserts, he was originally a painter.

I. According to Diocles, Pyrrho was a citizen of Elis and the son of Pleistarchus. Apollodorus says in his Chronicles that Pyrrho was originally a painter.

II. And he was a pupil of Bryson, the son of Stilpon, as we are told by Alexander in his Chronicles. After that he attached himself to Anaxarchus, and attended him everywhere; so that he even went as far as the Gymnosophists, in India, and the Magi.

II. Alexander says in his Chronicles that he was a pupil of Bryson, the son of Stilpon. After that, he joined Anaxarchus and went everywhere with him. He even went as far as the Gymnosophists in India and the Magi.

III. Owing to which circumstance, he seems to have taken a noble line in philosophy, introducing the doctrine of incomprehensibility, and of the necessity of suspending one’s judgment, as we learn from Ascanius, of Abdera. For he used to say that nothing was honourable, or disgraceful, or just, or unjust. And on the same principle he asserted that there was no such thing as downright truth; but that men did everything in consequence of custom and law. For that nothing was any more this than that. And his life corresponded to his principles; for he never shunned anything, and never guarded against anything; encountering everything, even waggons for instance, and precipices, and dogs, and everything of that sort; committing nothing whatever to his senses. So that he used to be saved, as Antigonus the Carystian tells us, by his friends who accompanied him. And Ænesidemus says that he studied philosophy on the principle of suspending his judgment on all points, without however, on any occasion acting in an imprudent manner, or doing anything without due consideration. And he lived to nearly ninety years of age.

III. Because of this circumstance, he seems to have taken a noble approach to philosophy. He introduced the doctrine that things cannot be understood and that judgment must be suspended, as Ascanius of Abdera tells us. He used to say that nothing was honorable or disgraceful, just or unjust. On the same principle, he asserted that there was no absolute truth. Rather, people did everything because of custom and law. For nothing was any more one thing than another. His life matched his principles. He avoided nothing and took no precautions. He faced everything, including wagons, cliffs, dogs, and dangers of that sort, without trusting his senses at all. As a result, his friends who accompanied him used to save him, according to Antigonus the Carystian. Ænesidemus says that he practiced philosophy by suspending judgment on every point. However, he never acted imprudently or did anything without due consideration. He lived to be nearly ninety years old.

IV. And Antigonus, of Carystus, in his account of Pyrrho, mentions the following circumstances respecting him; that he was originally a person of no reputation, but a poor man, and a painter; and that a picture of some camp-bearers, of very moderate execution, was preserved in the Gymnasium at Elis, which was his work; and that he used to walk out into the fields and seek solitary places, very rarely appearing to his family at home; and that he did this in consequence of having heard some Indian reproaching Anaxarchus for never teaching any one else any good, but for devoting all his time to paying court to princes in palaces. He relates of him too, that he always maintained the same demeanour, so that if any one left him in the middle of his delivery of a discourse, he remained and continued what he was saying; although, when a young man, he was of a very excitable temperament. Often too, says Antigonus, he would go away for a time, without telling any one beforehand, and taking any chance persons whom he chose for his companions. And once, when Anaxarchus had fallen into a pond, he passed by without assisting him; and when some one blamed him for this, Anaxarchus himself praised his indifference and absence of all emotion.

IV. Antigonus of Carystus gives the following account of Pyrrho. At first, Pyrrho was unknown, poor, and a painter. A painting of camp-bearers by Pyrrho, of only moderate quality, was kept in the Gymnasium at Elis. Pyrrho used to walk into the fields and seek out solitary places. He appeared at home with his family very rarely. He did this because he had heard an Indian reproach Anaxarchus. The Indian said that Anaxarchus never taught anyone else anything good, but spent all his time courting princes in their palaces. Antigonus also says that Pyrrho always kept the same manner. If someone left while he was speaking, he would stay and continue his discourse. Yet as a young man, he had been very excitable. Antigonus says that Pyrrho would often go away for a time without telling anyone beforehand. He would take as companions any chance people he chose. Once, when Anaxarchus fell into a pond, Pyrrho passed by without helping him. Someone blamed Pyrrho for this, but Anaxarchus himself praised his indifference and lack of emotion.

On one occasion he was detected talking to himself, and when he was asked the reason, he said that he was studying how to be good. In his investigations he was never despised by any one, because he always spoke explicitly and straight to the question that had been put to him. On which account Nausiphanes was charmed by him even when he was quite young. And he used to say that he should like to be endowed with the disposition of Pyrrho, without losing his own power of eloquence. And he said too, that Epicurus, who admired the conversation and manners of Pyrrho, was frequently asking him about him.

Once, he was caught talking to himself. When asked why, he said he was studying how to be good. No one ever looked down on him during his inquiries, because he always answered questions clearly and directly. For this reason, Nausiphanes was charmed by him even when he was very young. Nausiphanes used to say that he wished he had Pyrrho’s disposition without losing his own eloquence. He also said that Epicurus admired Pyrrho’s conversation and manners and often asked him about Pyrrho.

V. He was so greatly honoured by his country, that he was appointed a priest; and on his account all the philosophers were exempted from taxation. He had a great many imitators of his impassiveness; in reference to which Timon speaks thus of him in his Python, and in his Silli:—

V. His country honoured him so greatly that he was appointed a priest. Because of him, all philosophers were exempted from taxes. Many people imitated his impassiveness. Timon refers to this in his Python and his Silli:

And again, in his Images, he says:—

And again, in his Images, he says:

And the Athenians presented him with the freedom of their city, as Diocles tells us, because he had slain Cotys, the Thracian.

According to Diocles, the Athenians granted him citizenship because he had killed Cotys, the Thracian.

VI. He also lived in a most blameless manner with his sister, who was a midwife, as Eratosthenes relates, in his treatise on Riches and Poverty; so that he himself used to carry poultry, and pigs too if he could get any, into the market-place and sell them. And he used to clean all the furniture of the house without expressing any annoyance. And it is said that he carried his indifference so far that he even washed a pig. And once, when he was very angry about something connected with his sister (and her name was Philista), and some one took him up, he said, “The display of my indifference does not depend on a woman.” On another occasion, when he was driven back by a dog which was attacking him, he said to some one who blamed him for being discomposed, “That it was a difficult thing entirely to put off humanity; but that a man ought to strive with all his power to counteract circumstances with his actions if possible, and at all events with his reason.” They also tell a story that once, when some medicines of a consuming tendency, and some cutting and cautery was applied to him for some wound, that he never even contracted his brow. And Timon intimates his disposition plainly enough in the letters which he wrote to Python. Moreover, Philo, the Athenian, who was a friend of his, said that he was especially fond of Democritus; and next to him of Homer; whom he admired greatly, and was continually saying:—

VI. He also lived a blameless life with his sister, who was a midwife. Eratosthenes relates this in his treatise on Riches and Poverty. He himself would take poultry, and pigs too if he could get any, to the marketplace and sell them. He cleaned all the household furniture without showing any annoyance. He is said to have carried his indifference so far that he even washed a pig. Once he became very angry about something connected with his sister, whose name was Philista. When someone challenged him about it, he said, “My display of indifference does not depend on a woman.” On another occasion, a dog attacked him and drove him back. Someone criticized him for being upset, and he replied, “It is difficult to put off our humanity entirely. But a man should do all he can to counteract circumstances through his actions, if possible, and in any case through his reason.” They also tell a story about a time when he was treated for a wound with corrosive medicines, cutting, and cautery. He did not even frown. Timon makes his character clear enough in the letters he wrote to Python. Philo, the Athenian, who was his friend, said that he was especially fond of Democritus. After Democritus, he was most fond of Homer. He greatly admired Homer and was continually saying:

He used also, as it is said, to compare men to wasps, and flies, and birds, and to quote the following lines:—

He is also said to have compared men to wasps, flies, and birds, and to have quoted the following lines:

And so he would quote anything that bore on the uncertainty and emptiness and fickleness of the affairs of man. Posidonius tells the following anecdote about him: that when some people who were sailing with him were looking gloomy because of a storm, he kept a calm countenance, and comforted their minds, exhibiting himself on deck eating a pig, and saying that it became a wise man to preserve an untroubled spirit in that manner. Numenius is the only writer who asserts that he used to deliver positive dogmas.

And so he would quote anything that showed how uncertain, empty, and changeable human affairs are. Posidonius tells this story about him. During a storm, some people sailing with him looked gloomy. He remained calm and reassured them by showing himself on deck eating a pig. He said that a wise man should keep his mind at peace in the same way. Numenius is the only writer who claims that he taught definite doctrines.

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

VII. He had many distinguished disciples, including Eurylochus, who is said to have had a bad temper. Once, they say, Eurylochus became so angry that he picked up a spit with meat on it. He chased the cook with it as far as the marketplace. Another time, in Elis, people kept interrupting his talks with questions. They harassed him so much that he threw down his cloak and swam across the Alpheus. As Timon tells us, Eurylochus was a fierce enemy of the Sophists. Philo, by contrast, was very fond of arguing. For this reason, Timon speaks of him as follows:

Besides these disciples, Pyrrho also had Hecateus of Abdera, and Timon the Phliasian, who wrote the Silli, and whom we shall speak of hereafter; and also Nausiphanes, of Teos, who, as some say, was the master of Epicurus.

Besides these disciples, Pyrrho also had Hecateus of Abdera and Timon the Phliasian, who wrote the Silli. We will speak of Timon later. Pyrrho also had Nausiphanes of Teos, who, some say, was Epicurus’s teacher.

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

VIII. All these men were called Pyrrhoneans after their teacher. They were also called doubters, sceptics, ephectics, or suspenders of judgment, and investigators, because of their principles. Their philosophy was called investigatory because they investigated or sought the truth from every angle. It was called sceptical because they were always doubting (σκέπτομαι) and never finding the truth. It was called ephectic because they encouraged a particular attitude after investigation. That attitude was the suspension of judgment (ἐποχὴ). It was called doubting because they claimed that dogmatic philosophers only doubted, and that they themselves did the same. [And they were called Pyrrhoneans after Pyrrho himself.]

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

But Theodosius argues in his Chapters on Scepticism that we should not call the Pyrrhonean school sceptical. He says that no one can understand the movements and disturbances of another person’s mind. So we cannot know Pyrrho’s state of mind. And if we do not know it, we should not call ourselves Pyrrhoneans. He adds that Pyrrho did not invent Scepticism and had no particular doctrine of any kind. So, he says, it can be called Pyrrhonism only because of some resemblance to Pyrrho’s views. Some say that Homer founded this school. They say that he gave different accounts of the same event at different times, as much as anyone ever did. They also say that he never made definite assertions as matters of doctrine. They say, too, that the maxims of the seven wise men were sceptical. These included “Seek nothing in excess,” and “Suretyship is near calamity.” The latter shows that calamity follows a man who has given a firm and certain guarantee. They also argue that Archilochus and Euripides were Sceptics. Archilochus says:

And Euripides says:—

And Euripides says:

Moreover, Xenophanes, and Zeno the Eleatic, and Democritus were also Sceptics; of whom Xenophanes speaks thus:—

Moreover, Xenophanes, Zeno the Eleatic, and Democritus were also Sceptics. Xenophanes says:

And Zeno endeavours to put an end to the doctrine of motion by saying: “The object moved does not move either in the place in which it is, or in that in which it is not.” Democritus, too, discards the qualities, where he says: what is cold is cold in opinion, and what is hot is hot in opinion; but atoms and the vacuum exist in reality. And again he says: “But we know nothing really; for truth lies in the bottom.” Plato, too, following them, attributes the knowledge of the truth to the Gods and to the sons of the Gods, and leaves men only the investigation of probability. And Euripides says:—

Zeno tries to refute the doctrine of motion by saying: “A moving object moves neither in the place where it is nor in the place where it is not.” Democritus, too, rejects qualities when he says that cold and heat exist only in opinion, but atoms and the vacuum exist in reality. He also says: “But we know nothing for certain, because truth lies at the bottom.” Following them, Plato says that the Gods and the sons of the Gods know the truth. He leaves humans only the search for what is probable. And Euripides says:

And Empedocles speaks thus:—

And Empedocles says:

And in a preceding passage he says:—

And in an earlier passage, he says:

Heraclitus, too, says, “Let us not form conjectures at random, about things of the greatest importance.” And Hippocrates delivers his opinion in a very doubtful manner, such as becomes a man; and before them all Homer has said:—

Heraclitus also says, “Let us not make random guesses about the most important matters.” Hippocrates expresses his opinion with great uncertainty, as befits a human being. And before them all, Homer said:

And immediately after:—

And immediately afterward:

Intimating the equal vigour and antithetical force of words. And the Sceptics persevered in overthrowing all the dogmas of every sect, while they themselves asserted nothing dogmatically; and contented themselves with expressing the opinions of others, without affirming anything themselves, not even that they did affirm nothing; so that even discarded all positive denial; for to say, “We affirm nothing,” was to affirm something. “But we,” said they, “enunciate the doctrines of others, to prove our own perfect indifference; it is just as if we were to express the same thing by a simple sign.” So these words, “We affirm nothing,” indicate the absence of all affirmation, just as other propositions, such as, “Not more one thing than another,” or, “Every reason has a corresponding reason opposed to it,” and all such maxims indicate a similar idea. But the phrase, “Not more one thing,” &c., has sometimes an affirmative sense, indicating the equality of certain things, as for instance, in this sentence, “A pirate is not worse than a liar.” But by the sceptics this is said not positively, but negatively, as for instance, where the speaker contests a point and says, “It was not Scylla, any more than it was Chimæra.” And the word “more,” itself, is sometimes used to indicate a comparison, as when we say, “That honey is more sweet than grapes.” And at other times it is used positively, and at the same time negatively, as when we say, “Virtue profits us more than hurts us;” for in this phrase we intimate that virtue does profit, and does not hurt us. But the Sceptics abolish the whole expression, “Not more than it;” saying, that “Prudence has not existence, any more than it has no existence.” Accordingly, then, expression, as Timon says in his Python, indicates nothing more than an absence of all affirmation, or of all assent of the judgment.

Indicating that words have equal and opposing force. The Sceptics continued to challenge all the doctrines of every school, while asserting nothing as certain themselves. They were content to express the opinions of others without affirming anything themselves, not even that they affirmed nothing. They even rejected all definite denials, because saying, “We affirm nothing,” would itself be an affirmation. “But we,” they said, “state the doctrines of others to show our own complete indifference. It is as if we expressed the same thing with a simple sign.” Thus the words “We affirm nothing” indicate an absence of all affirmation. Other statements express a similar idea, such as “Not more one thing than another” and “Every argument has a corresponding argument against it.” But “Not more one thing than another” sometimes has an affirmative meaning. It can indicate that certain things are equal, as in “A pirate is no worse than a liar.” The Sceptics, however, use the phrase negatively, not affirmatively. For example, someone disputing a point might say, “It was not Scylla, any more than it was Chimæra.” The word “more” itself sometimes indicates a comparison, as when we say, “Honey is sweeter than grapes.” At other times it is both affirmative and negative, as when we say, “Virtue helps us more than it harms us.” This suggests that virtue does help us and does not harm us. But the Sceptics do away with the whole expression “Not more than it.” They say that “Prudence exists no more than it does not exist.” So, as Timon says in his Python, the expression indicates nothing more than an absence of all affirmation or assent of the judgment.

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

The expression “Every reason has a corresponding reason,” and so on, likewise indicates a suspension of judgment. For if the facts differ but the statements are equally convincing, a person must be completely ignorant of the real truth.

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

Besides this, an opposing assertion is set against this assertion. After destroying all the others, the opposing assertion turns against itself and destroys itself. It resembles a purgative medicine that clears the stomach and is then expelled itself. The dogmatic philosophers therefore say that these arguments, far from overturning the authority of reason, confirm it. The Sceptics reply that they use reason only as an instrument. They do so because it is impossible to overturn the authority of reason without using reason. In the same way, if we assert that space does not exist, we must use the word “space.” But we use it to demonstrate our point, not to assert a dogma. And if we assert that nothing exists out of necessity, we cannot avoid using the word “necessity.” The Sceptics interpreted things in the same way. They maintained that facts are not by nature as they appear, but only seem to be so. They said they did not doubt their own thoughts, since their thoughts were clear to them. What they doubted was the reality of the things known to them only through their senses.

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

The Pyrrhonean system is a simple explanation of appearances or ideas of every kind. By comparing one thing with another, it leads to the conclusion that all these ideas contain nothing but contradiction and confusion. This is what Ænesidemus says in his Introduction to Pyrrhonism. As for the contradictions found in these speculations, the Pyrrhoneans first show how each fact is convincing. Then, by the same means, they remove all belief in it. They say that we regard certain things as certain: those that always produce similar impressions on the senses, those arising from habit or established by law, and those that give pleasure or inspire wonder. They also prove that the reasons opposed to those on which our agreement rests are equally worthy of belief.

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

IX. They raise difficulties about whether what the senses perceive agrees with what the intellect understands. These difficulties fall into ten modes of argument. According to these modes, both the subject and the object of our knowledge are constantly changing. Pyrrho sets out the ten modes as follows.

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

The first point concerns the differences between animals in how they experience pleasure and pain, and what is harmful or beneficial. From these differences, we conclude that the same things do not always produce the same impressions. These differences should therefore give us reason to suspend judgment. Some animals are produced without sexual reproduction, such as those that live in fire, the Arabian Phœnix, and worms. Others are produced through mating, such as humans and animals of that kind. Some are made one way and others another. For this reason, their senses also differ. Hawks, for example, have very sharp eyesight, while dogs have a highly developed sense of smell. Clearly, then, the same things produce different visual impressions on animals whose eyesight differs. Similarly, goats eagerly eat young branches, but people find them bitter. Hemlock nourishes quail but is deadly to humans. Pigs eat their own dung, but horses do not.

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

The second mode concerns human nature and individual differences. According to Demophon, Alexander’s steward used to feel warm in the shade and shiver in the sun. Aristotle tells us that Andron, the Argive, traveled through the dry parts of Libya without drinking once. One person enjoys medicine, another farming, and another commerce. The same activities are good for one person and harmful to another. For this reason, we should suspend our judgments.

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

The third mode concerns the differences between the sense organs. For example, an apple looks yellow, tastes sweet, and smells fragrant. The same shape also looks very different in different mirrors. So what we see is just as likely to be something other than what it really is.

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

The fourth concerns a person’s condition and the changes people undergo in general. These include health, sickness, sleep, waking, joy, grief, youth, old age, courage, fear, poverty, abundance, hatred, friendship, warmth, cold, easy breathing, difficulty breathing, and so on. Objects appear different to us according to our condition at the time. Even people who are mad are not in a state contrary to nature. Why should we say that they are, any more than we are? After all, we too see the sun as if it stood still. Theon of Tithora, the Stoic, used to walk in his sleep. A slave of Pericles used to walk on the roof while asleep.

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

The fifth mode concerns laws, established customs, belief in mythical traditions, artistic conventions, and dogmatic opinions. It covers all matters of vice and virtue, truth and falsehood, good and evil, the Gods, and the creation and destruction of all visible things. So the same action is just for some people and unjust for others. It is good for some and bad for others. For example, the Persians do not consider it unnatural for a man to marry his daughter. Among the Greeks, however, it is unlawful. Eudoxus tells us in the first book of his Travels over the World that the Massagetæ share their women in common, but the Greeks do not. The Cilicians delight in piracy, but the Greeks avoid it. Different nations also worship different Gods. Some believe in the providence of God, and others do not. The Egyptians embalm their dead and then bury them. The Romans burn their dead, while the Pæonians throw theirs into lakes. All these considerations show that we ought to suspend judgment.

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

The sixth mode concerns the mixing and confusion of objects. We never see anything simply on its own. We see it combined with air, light, moisture, solidity, heat, cold, motion, evaporation, or some other force. For example, purple looks different in sunlight, moonlight, and lamplight. Our own complexions also look different at noon and at sunset. A stone too heavy to lift in the air can easily be moved in water. This may be because the stone is heavy in itself and the water makes it light. Or it may be because the stone is light in itself and the air makes it heavy. So we cannot know for certain the distinctive qualities of anything, just as we cannot distinguish oil in ointment.

The seventh mode has reference to distances, and position, and space, and to the objects which are in space. In this mode one establishes the fact that objects which we believe to be large, sometimes appear small; that those which we believe to be square, sometimes appear round; that those which we fancy even, appear full of projections; those which we think straight, seem bent; and those which we believe to be colourless, appear of quite a different complexion. Accordingly, the sun, on account of its distance from us, appears small. The mountains too, at a distance,¹³⁵ appear airy masses and smooth, but when beheld close, they are rough. Again, the sun has one appearance at his rise, and quite a different one at midday. And the same body looks very different in a wood from what it does on plain ground. So too, the appearance of an object changes according to its position as regards us; for instance, the neck of a dove varies as it turns. Since then, it is impossible to view these things irrespectively of place and position, it is clear that their real nature is not known.

The seventh mode concerns distance, position, space, and the objects within space. This mode shows that objects we believe to be large sometimes appear small. Objects we believe to be square sometimes appear round. Objects we think are even appear to have protrusions. Objects we think are straight appear bent, and objects we believe to be colorless appear to have a different color. For example, the sun appears small because it is far from us. Mountains, too, at a distance,¹³⁵ appear to be airy, smooth masses, but up close they look rough. The sun also looks different at sunrise than it does at midday. And the same object looks very different in a wood than it does on open ground. An object’s appearance also changes according to its position relative to us. For example, a dove’s neck changes in appearance as the dove turns. We cannot observe these things without regard to place and position. Therefore, it is clear that their true nature is unknown.

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

The eighth mode concerns the size or quantity of things. It also concerns their heat or cold, speed or slowness, and pale or varied colors. For example, a moderate amount of wine gives strength, but too much weakens. The same is true of food and other similar things.

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

The ninth depends on how common, rare, or strange the thing being considered is. For example, earthquakes cause no wonder among people in countries where they occur often. Nor does the sun cause wonder, because people see it every day.

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

Phavorinus calls the ninth mode the eighth, while Sextus and Ænesidemus call it the tenth. Sextus calls the tenth mode the eighth, while Phavorinus counts the tenth as ninth.

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

The tenth mode concerns comparisons between things, such as light and heavy, strong and weak, greater and smaller, above and below. For example, something is not on the right by its own nature. It is considered to be on the right because of its relation to something else. If that other thing is moved, the first thing will no longer be on the right. In the same way, a man is called a father, brother, or relative in relation to someone else. Day is also called day in relation to the sun. And everything has its distinctive name in relation to human thought. Therefore, things known in relation to others are unknown in themselves.

And these are the ten modes.

These are the ten modes.

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

X. But Agrippa adds five other modes to them. One comes from disagreement among opinions. Another comes from the need to proceed ad infinitum from one argument to another. A third comes from relation, a fourth from hypothesis, and the last from proofs that depend on each other.

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

The point about disagreements shows that all questions philosophers pose or people generally discuss are full of uncertainty and contradiction.

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

The need to move endlessly from one line of reasoning to another shows that no one can ever reach undeniable truth through inquiry. This is because one truth can only be established by another truth, and so on, ad infinitum.

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

The mode based on relation holds that no object is ever perceived entirely on its own. It is always perceived in relation to something else. So it is impossible to know an object's true nature.

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

The argument based on hypothesis is directed against those who claim that basic principles must be accepted outright. They say we must believe these principles without examining them. This is absurd, because one may just as well put forward the opposite principles.

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

The fifth mode concerns circular proofs. It applies whenever a proof of the truth we are seeking requires us to believe that truth first. For example, we might prove that bodies are porous by their evaporation, then prove their evaporation by their porosity.

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

XI. These Sceptics deny the existence of demonstration, any test of truth, signs, causes, motion, and learning. They also deny that anything is intrinsically or naturally good or bad. They say every demonstration depends either on things that demonstrate themselves or on principles that cannot be demonstrated. If it depends on things that demonstrate themselves, then those things themselves require demonstration, and so on ad infinitum. If it depends on principles that cannot be demonstrated, the whole demonstration falls apart as soon as either all the principles or even one of them is wrongly put forward. But if anyone thinks some principles need no demonstration, the Sceptics add, that person is badly mistaken. He fails to see that he must first establish that those principles contain their own proof. For a person cannot prove that there are four elements simply by saying that there are four elements.

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

Besides, if particular proofs in a complex demonstration are rejected, the whole demonstration must also be incorrect. Again, to know that an argument is really a demonstration, we need a test of truth. But to establish a test of truth, we need a demonstration. Neither can have any certainty, since each depends on the other.

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

How can anyone be certain about obscure matters if they do not even know how to try to prove them? For what we want to understand is not how things appear, but their nature and essence.

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

They also show that dogmatic philosophers are very naive. The conclusions they draw from their assumed principles are not scientific truths, but mere suppositions. In the same way, one could establish the most improbable claims. They also criticize those who say that things should be judged by their nature, not by their surroundings or associated features. These people claim to give the exact measure and definition of everything. Yet they fail to see that the appearance of objects depends solely on their position and arrangement relative to one another. From this, they conclude that everything must be said to be either true or false. For if only some things are true, how can we recognize them? Clearly, the senses cannot judge the objects they perceive, since all appearances are equal to the senses. Nor can the intellect judge them, for the same reason. And apart from these two faculties, there seems to be no other test or criterion. So, they say, if we want certainty about anything perceived by the senses or the intellect, we must first establish the opinions previously put forward about it. For some people have denied one doctrine, while others have overturned another. These opinions must therefore be judged by either the senses or the intellect. But the authority of both faculties is disputed. So it is impossible to make a definite judgment about how the senses and the intellect work. And if the conflict between different opinions forces us to remain neutral, the standard that seemed suitable for judging all these objects is also abolished. We must then give everything the same value.

Perhaps our opponent will say, “Are then appearances trustworthy or deceitful?”¹³⁶ We answer that, if they are trustworthy, the other side has nothing to object to those to whom the contrary appearance presents itself. For, as he who says that such and such a thing appears to him is trustworthy, so also is he who says that the contrary appears to him. And if appearances are deceitful, then they do not deserve any confidence when they assert what appears to them to be true. We are not bound then to believe that a thing is true, merely because it obtains assent. For all men do not yield to the same reasons; and even the same individual does not always see things in the same light. Persuasion often depends on external circumstances, on the authority of the speaker, on his ability, on the elegance of his language, on habit, or even on pleasure.

Perhaps our opponent will ask, “Are appearances trustworthy or deceptive?”¹³⁶ We answer that, if appearances are trustworthy, the other side has no grounds to object to those who see things differently. A person who says something appears a certain way to him is trustworthy. So is a person who says the opposite appears true to him. And if appearances are deceptive, they deserve no trust when they assert that what appears to them is true. So we do not have to believe something is true merely because people accept it. Not all people are persuaded by the same reasons. Even the same person does not always see things in the same way. Persuasion often depends on outside circumstances, the speaker’s authority or ability, the elegance of the speaker’s language, habit, or even pleasure.

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

They also use this reasoning to reject the criterion of truth. Either the criterion has been decided on, or it has not. If it has not, it deserves no confidence. It cannot help us distinguish truth from falsehood at all. If it has been decided on, it belongs among the particular things that require a criterion. In that case, judging and being judged amount to the same thing. The criterion that judges is itself judged by another criterion. That criterion is judged by a third, and so on ad infinitum. They add that people do not even agree on the nature of the criterion of truth. Some say that man is the criterion, while others say it is the senses. Some put reason first, while others rely on cataleptic perception.

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

People themselves disagree both with themselves and with others, as the variety of laws and customs shows. The senses deceive us, and reason disagrees with itself. The intellect judges cataleptic perception, but the intellect changes in various ways. So we can never find a definite standard for judging what is true. As a result, truth itself completely escapes our search.

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

They also claim that signs do not exist. They argue that if signs exist, they must be understood through either the senses or the intellect. But no signs are understood through the senses. Everything understood through the senses is general, while a sign is particular. Also, any object understood through the senses has an existence of its own, while signs exist only in relation to something else. Nor are signs understood through the intellect. If they were, a sign would have to be a visible manifestation of a visible thing, an invisible manifestation of an invisible thing, an invisible sign of a visible thing, or a visible sign of an invisible thing. But none of these is possible. Therefore, signs do not exist at all.

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

Therefore, there is no such thing as a visible sign of a visible thing. A visible thing needs no sign. Nor is there an invisible sign of an invisible thing. When something is revealed by means of another thing, it must become visible. For the same reason, there is no invisible sign of a visible object. Anything that helps us perceive something else must be visible. Finally, there is no visible sign of an invisible thing. A sign exists only in relation to something else. It must therefore be perceived in the thing it signifies, and this is not the case. It follows that nothing invisible in itself can be perceived. For signs are understood to help us perceive what is not evident in itself.

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

They also completely reject the idea of cause and, as far as they can, overturn it using the same reasoning. A cause is relative to the thing it causes. But anything relative exists only as an idea and has no real existence. The idea of a cause, then, is purely conceptual. A cause must be the cause of something, or it would not be a cause at all. Similarly, a man cannot be a father unless there is someone whose father he is. The same is true of a cause. Suppose there is nothing in relation to which we can speak of a cause. Then, since nothing is produced or destroyed and nothing of that kind happens, there can be no cause either. However, let us grant that causes exist. In that case, either a body must cause a body, or something incorporeal must cause something incorporeal. Neither is possible, so there is no such thing as cause. One body cannot cause another, since both bodies must have the same nature. If one body is said to be a cause because it is a body, then the other must also be a cause for the same reason. In that case, each would be the cause of the other. Both would act, but neither would be acted upon.

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

For the same reason, one incorporeal thing cannot cause another incorporeal thing. Nor can an incorporeal thing cause a body, because nothing incorporeal can produce a body. On the other hand, a body cannot cause anything incorporeal. Every act of production requires some material that can be acted upon. But an incorporeal thing cannot, by its nature, be acted upon. So nothing can produce an incorporeal thing. Therefore, there is no such thing as a cause. It follows from all this that the first principles of all things are not real. For if such a principle existed, it would have to be both the agent and the efficient cause.

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

Again, there is no such thing as motion. For anything that moves must move either in the place where it is or where it is not. It certainly does not move in the place where it is. And it cannot move in a place where it is not. Therefore, there is no such thing as motion at all.

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

They also denied that learning was possible. They argued that if anything is taught, it must be either something that exists or something that does not exist. If it exists, it must be taught as existing. If it does not exist, it must be taught as not existing. But something that exists cannot be taught as existing. This is because the nature of everything that exists is visible to everyone and known by everyone. Nor can something that does not exist be taught as not existing. Nothing can happen to something that does not exist, so it cannot be taught.

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

They also say that nothing is produced. What exists cannot be produced, because it already exists. Nor can what does not exist be produced, because it does not exist at all. What has no being or existence at all cannot be produced.

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

Another of their doctrines is that nothing is good or evil by nature. If anything were naturally good or evil, it would be good or evil for everyone, just as snow is cold to everyone. But nothing is good or evil for all beings. Therefore, nothing is good or evil by nature. Either we must declare good everything that anyone considers good, or we must say that something is not necessarily good just because someone thinks it is. We cannot say that everything considered good is good. The same thing may be considered good by one person and evil by another. For example, Epicurus considers pleasure good, while Antisthenes considers it evil. By this principle, pleasure would be both good and evil. If, on the other hand, we say that something is not necessarily good just because someone thinks it is, we must judge between the different opinions. But we cannot do that, because the reasons offered in support of them are equally strong. It follows that we cannot recognize anything as good by nature.

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

We may also get an overview of their whole system from the writings some of them left behind. Pyrrho himself left nothing. But his friends Timon, Ænesidemus, Numenius, Nausiphanes, and others of their kind left books. The dogmatic philosophers argue against them, saying that they too adopt false dogmas and make definite assertions. They say that when the skeptics think they are refuting others, they expose their own fault. For in refuting others, they make definite assertions and lay down dogmas themselves. When they say that they define nothing and that every argument has an opposing argument, they give a definite definition and assert a dogma. But the skeptics reply to these objections: We admit that you are right about what we experience as human beings. We certainly know that it is day and that we are alive. We also admit that we know many other things as they appear in life. But we suspend judgment about things that the dogmatic philosophers claim to understand and make definite assertions about. We do this because such things are uncertain, and we know only our experiences. For we admit that we see, and we are aware that we understand that this is so. But we do not know how we see or how we understand. We also say, by way of description, that something appears white. We do not assert that it really is white. As for the statement “We define nothing,” and others like it, we do not put them forward as dogmas. Such a statement is different from saying that the world is spherical. For the shape of the world is not evident, while these other statements are merely admissions.

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

So, when we say that we define nothing, we do not mean this as a definition either.

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

The dogmatic philosophers also say that the Sceptics undermine all of life by denying everything life consists of. But the Sceptics say this is a mistake. They do not deny that they see. They deny that they know how they see. They say that they state what is actually the case, but do not describe its nature. They feel that fire burns, but suspend judgment on whether fire has a burning nature. They also see whether a person moves, and see that a man dies. But they do not know how these things happen. The Sceptics say, therefore, that they challenge only the uncertain conclusions drawn alongside evident facts. When they say that an image has projections, they simply state what is evident. But when they say that it has no projections, they no longer state what is evident. They say something else. For this reason, Timon says in his Python that Pyrrho does not undermine the authority of custom. And in his Images he says:

And in his treatise on the Senses, he says, “The reason why a thing is sweet I do not declare, but I confess that the fact of sweetness is evident.” So too, Ænesidemus, in the first book of his Pyrrhonean Discourses, says that Pyrrho defines nothing dogmatically, on account of the possibility of contradiction, but that he is guided by what is evident. And he says the same thing in his book against Wisdom, and in his treatise on Investigation.

In his treatise on the Senses, he says, “I do not say why something is sweet, but I admit that its sweetness is evident.” Similarly, in the first book of his Pyrrhonean Discourses, Ænesidemus says that Pyrrho makes no dogmatic definitions because they could be contradicted. Instead, Pyrrho is guided by what is evident. Ænesidemus says the same thing in his book against Wisdom and in his treatise on Investigation.

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

Likewise, Zeuxis, a friend of Ænesidemus, says nothing beyond what is evident in his treatise on Twofold Arguments. Antiochus of Laodicea and Apellas in his Agrippa do the same. For the Sceptics, then, the criterion is what is evident. Ænesidemus and Epicurus also say this.

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

But Democritus says that there is no test for appearances and that appearances are not criteria of truth. The dogmatic philosophers also challenge appearances as a criterion of truth. They say that the same objects sometimes appear different. For example, a town may appear square at one time and round at another. So, they argue, if a Sceptic does not distinguish between different appearances, he does nothing at all. But if he favors one appearance over another, they say he no longer gives equal weight to all appearances. The Sceptics reply that, when faced with different appearances, they simply say that there are many appearances. They affirm that appearances exist precisely because things appear in different ways.

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

Finally, the Sceptics say that the highest good is suspending judgment. As Timon and Ænesidemus say, peace of mind follows this suspension like a shadow. For we need not choose some things or avoid others when they all depend on us. But we cannot avoid things that do not depend on us and arise from necessity, such as hunger, thirst, and pain. Reason cannot put an end to them.

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

The dogmatic philosophers object that, by his own principles, a Sceptic would not refuse to kill his own father if ordered to do so. The Sceptics reply that they can live quite well without worrying about the theories of the dogmatic philosophers. They suspend judgment on all matters that do not concern living and preserving life. Accordingly, they say, they avoid some things and pursue others, following custom in doing so. They also obey the laws.

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

Some writers say that the Stoics' highest good is freedom from emotion. Others say it is gentleness and peace of mind.