Aristippus's Life

24 min

I. Aristippus was by birth a Cyrenean, but he came to Athens, as Æschines says, having been attracted thither by the fame of Socrates.

I. Aristippus was born in Cyrene, but he came to Athens. According to Æschines, he was drawn there by Socrates’ fame.

II. He, having professed himself a Sophist, as Phanias, of Eresus, the Peripatetic, informs us, was the first of the pupils of Socrates who exacted money from his pupils, and who sent money to his master. And once he sent him twenty drachmas, but had them sent back again, as Socrates said that his dæmon would not allow him to accept them; for, in fact, he was indignant at having them offered to him. And Xenophon used to hate him; on which account he wrote his book against pleasure as an attack upon Aristippus, and assigned the main argument to Socrates. Theodorus also, in his Treatise on Sects, has attacked him severely, and so has Plato in his book on the Soul, as we have mentioned in another place.

II. According to Phanias of Eresus, the Peripatetic, he called himself a Sophist. He was the first of Socrates’ pupils to charge his own pupils money and send money to his master. Once he sent Socrates twenty drachmas, but Socrates sent them back. Socrates said that his dæmon would not allow him to accept the money. In fact, he was indignant that it had been offered to him. Xenophon hated him, so he wrote his book against pleasure as an attack on Aristippus. He gave the main argument to Socrates. Theodorus also attacked Aristippus severely in his Treatise on Sects. So did Plato in his book on the Soul, as we have mentioned elsewhere.

III. But he was a man very quick at adapting himself to every kind of place, and time, and person, and he easily supported every change of fortune. For which reason he was in greater favour with Dionysius than any of the others, as he always made the best of existing circumstances. For he enjoyed what was before him pleasantly, and he did not toil to procure himself the enjoyment of what was not present. On which account Diogenes used to call him the king’s dog. And Timon used to snarl at him as too luxurious, speaking somewhat in this fashion:

III. But he was quick to adapt to any place, time, or person, and he easily bore every change in fortune. For that reason, Dionysius favored him more than any of the others. He always made the best of his circumstances. He enjoyed what was available to him and did not work hard to obtain pleasures that were out of reach. For this reason, Diogenes used to call him the king’s dog. Timon used to snarl at him for being too fond of luxury, saying something like this:

This is exactly how Horace describes him:

Like the effeminate mind of Aristippus, Who, as he said, by touch could judge of falsehood.

Like the unmanly mind of Aristippus, Who said he could tell what was false by touch.

They say that he once ordered a partridge to be bought for him at the price of fifty drachmas; and when some one blamed him, “And would not you,” said he, “have bought it if it had cost an obol?” And when he said he would, “Well,” replied Aristippus, “fifty drachmas are no more to me.” Dionysius once bade him select which he pleased of three beautiful courtesans; and he carried off all three, saying that even Paris did not get any good by preferring one beauty to the rest. However, they say, that when he had carried them as far as the vestibule, he dismissed them; so easily inclined was he to select or to disregard things. On which account Strato, or, as others will have it, Plato, said to him, “You are the only man to whom it is given to wear both a whole cloak and rags.” Once when Dionysius spit at him, he put up with it; and when some one found fault with him, he said, “Men endure being wetted by the sea in order to catch a tench, and shall not I endure to be sprinkled with wine to catch a sturgeon?”

They say that he once ordered a partridge to be bought for fifty drachmas. Someone criticized him, but Aristippus asked, “Wouldn’t you have bought it if it had cost an obol?” The man said he would. “Well,” Aristippus replied, “fifty drachmas are no more to me.” Once Dionysius told him to choose whichever he liked from three beautiful courtesans. Aristippus took all three, saying that even Paris gained nothing by choosing one beauty over the others. However, they say that he dismissed the courtesans after taking them as far as the entrance hall. He was just as ready to take things as to do without them. For this reason, Strato, or Plato according to others, said to him, “You are the only man who can wear both a whole cloak and rags.” Once Dionysius spat at him, and Aristippus put up with it. When someone criticized him for this, he said, “Men put up with getting wet in the sea to catch a tench. Shouldn’t I put up with being sprinkled with wine to catch a sturgeon?”

IV. Once Diogenes, who was washing vegetables, ridiculed him as he passed by, and said, “If you had learnt to eat these vegetables, you would not have been a slave in the palace of a tyrant.” But Aristippus replied, “And you, if you had known how to behave among men, would not have been washing vegetables.” Being asked once what advantage he had derived from philosophy, he said, “The power of associating confidently with every body.” When he was reproached for living extravagantly, he replied, “If extravagance had been a fault, it would not have had a place in the festivals of the Gods.” At another time he was asked what advantage philosophers had over other men; and he replied, “If all the laws should be abrogated, we should still live in the same manner as we do now.” Once when Dionysius asked him why the philosophers haunt the doors of the rich, but the rich do not frequent those of the philosophers, he said, “Because the first know what they want, but the second do not.”

IV. Once, as Aristippus passed by, Diogenes was washing vegetables and mocked him. “If you had learned to eat these vegetables, you would not be a slave in a tyrant’s palace.” Aristippus replied, “And if you knew how to behave among people, you would not be washing vegetables.” Once, someone asked Aristippus what he had gained from philosophy. He said, “The ability to mix confidently with everyone.” When someone criticized him for living extravagantly, he replied, “If extravagance were wrong, it would have no place in festivals honoring the gods.” Another time, someone asked what advantage philosophers had over other people. He replied, “If all the laws were abolished, we would still live as we do now.” Once Dionysius asked him why philosophers sought out the rich, but the rich did not seek out philosophers. Aristippus said, “Because philosophers know what they want, but the rich do not.”

On one occasion he was reproached by Plato for living in an expensive way; and he replied, “Does not Dionysius seem to you to be a good man?” And as he said that he did; “And yet,” said he, “he lives in a more expensive manner than I do, so that there is no impossibility in a person’s living both expensively and well at the same time.” He was asked once in what educated men are superior to uneducated men; and answered, “Just as broken horses are superior to those that are unbroken.” On another occasion he was going into the house of a courtesan, and when one of the young men who were with him blushed, he said, “It is not the going into such a house that is bad, but the not being able to go out.” Once a man proposed a riddle to him, and said, “Solve it.” “Why, you silly fellow,” said Aristippus, “do you wish me to loose what gives us trouble, even while it is in bonds?” A saying of his was, “that it was better to be a beggar than an ignorant person; for that a beggar only wants money, but an ignorant person wants humanity.” Once when he was abused, he was going away, and as his adversary pursued him and said, “Why are you going away?” “Because,” said he, “you have a license for speaking ill; but I have another for declining to hear ill.” When some one said that he always saw the philosophers at the doors of the rich men, he said, “And the physicians also are always seen at the doors of their patients; but still no one would choose for this reason to be an invalid rather than a physician.”

Once, Plato criticized him for living extravagantly. He replied, “Doesn’t Dionysius seem to you to be a good man?” Plato said he did. “And yet,” he said, “Dionysius lives more extravagantly than I do. So it is possible to live both extravagantly and well.” Once, he was asked how educated people are superior to uneducated people. He answered, “Just as trained horses are superior to untrained ones.” Another time, he was entering the house of a courtesan. When one of the young men with him blushed, he said, “It is not going into such a house that is bad, but being unable to leave.” Once, a man posed a riddle and said, “Solve it.” “Why, you silly fellow,” Aristippus said, “do you want me to untie what gives us trouble even while it is tied up?” He used to say, “It is better to be a beggar than an ignorant person. A beggar lacks only money, but an ignorant person lacks humanity.” Once, after someone insulted him, he started to walk away. His adversary followed him and asked, “Why are you walking away?” “Because,” he said, “you have the freedom to speak badly, but I have the freedom to refuse to listen.” Someone once said that he always saw philosophers at the doors of rich men. Aristippus replied, “Doctors, too, are always seen at the doors of their patients. But no one would choose to be sick rather than a doctor for that reason.”

Once it happened, that when he was sailing to Corinth, he was overtaken by a violent storm; and when somebody said, “We common individuals are not afraid, but you philosophers are behaving like cowards;” he said, “Very likely, for we have not both of us the same kind of souls at stake.” Seeing a man who prided himself on the variety of his learning and accomplishments, he said, “Those who eat most, and who take the most exercise, are not in better health than they who eat just as much as is good for them; and in the same way it is not those who know a great many things, but they who know what is useful who are valuable men.” An orator had pleaded a cause for him and gained it, and asked him afterwards, “Now, what good did you ever get from Socrates?” “This good,” said he, “that all that you have said in my behalf is true.” He gave admirable advice to his daughter Arete, teaching her to despise superfluity. And being asked by some one in what respect his son would be better if he received a careful education, he replied, “If he gets no other good, at all events, when he is at the theatre, he will not be one stone sitting upon another.” Once when some one brought his son to introduce to him, he demanded five hundred drachmas; and when the father said, “Why, for such a price as that I can buy a slave.” “Buy him then,” he replied, “and you will have a pair.”

Once, while he was sailing to Corinth, a violent storm overtook him. Someone said, “We ordinary people are not afraid, but you philosophers are acting like cowards.” He replied, “Very likely, since we do not both have the same kind of souls at stake.” He saw a man who was proud of his wide learning and accomplishments. He said, “Those who eat and exercise the most are not healthier than those who eat only what is good for them. In the same way, valuable people are not those who know many things, but those who know what is useful.” An orator had argued a case for him and won it. Afterward, the orator asked him, “Now, what good did you ever get from Socrates?” He replied, “This good: everything you said on my behalf is true.” He gave his daughter Arete excellent advice, teaching her to despise excess. Someone asked how his son would be better off if he received a careful education. He replied, “If he gains nothing else, at least when he is at the theater, he will not be one stone sitting on another.” Once, a man brought his son to him, and he demanded five hundred drachmas. The father said, “Why, for that price I can buy a slave.” He replied, “Buy him, then, and you will have a pair.”

It was a saying of his that he took money from his acquaintances not in order to use it himself, but to make them aware in what they ought to spend their money. On one occasion, being reproached for having employed a hired advocate in a cause that he had depending: “Why not,” said he; “when I have a dinner, I hire a cook.” Once he was compelled by Dionysius to repeat some philosophical sentiment; “It is an absurdity,” said he, “for you to learn of me how to speak, and yet to teach me when I ought to speak:” and as Dionysius was offended at this, he placed him at the lowest end of the table; on which Aristippus said, “You wish to make this place more respectable.” A man was one day boasting of his skill as a diver; “Are you not ashamed,” said Aristippus, “to pride yourself on your performance of the duty of a dolphin?” On one occasion he was asked in what respect a wise man is superior to one who is not wise; and his answer was, “Send them both naked among strangers, and you will find out.” A man was boasting of being able to drink a great deal without being drunk; and he said, “A mule can do the very same thing.” When a man reproached him for living with a mistress, he said, “Does it make any difference whether one takes a house in which many others have lived before one, or one where no one has ever lived?” and his reprover said, “No.” “Well does it make any difference whether one sails in a ship which ten thousand people have sailed before one, or whether one sails in one in which no one has ever embarked?” “By no means,” said the other. “Just in the same way,” said he, “it makes no difference whether one lives with a woman with whom numbers have lived, or with one with whom no one has lived.” When a person once blamed him for taking money from his pupils, after having been himself a pupil of Socrates: “To be sure I do,” he replied, “for Socrates too, when some friends sent their corn and wine, accepted a little, and sent the rest back; for he had the chief men of the Athenians for his purveyors. But I have only Eutychides, whom I have bought with money.” And he used to live with Lais the courtesan, as Sotion tells us in the Second Book of his Successions. Accordingly, when some one reproached him on her account, he made answer, “I possess her, but I am not possessed by her; since the best thing is to possess pleasures without being their slave, not to be devoid of pleasures.” When some one blamed him for the expense he was at about his food, he said, “Would you not have bought those things yourself if they had cost three obols?” And when the other admitted that he would, “Then,” said he, “it is not that I am fond of pleasure, but that you are fond of money.” On one occasion, when Simus, the steward of Dionysius, was showing him a magnificent house, paved with marble (but Simus was a Phrygian, and a great toper), he hawked up a quantity of saliva and spit in his face; and when Simus was indignant at this, he said, “I could not find a more suitable place to spit in.”

He used to say that he took money from his acquaintances not to use it himself, but to show them how they ought to spend it. Once, someone criticized him for hiring a lawyer to represent him in a pending case. “Why not?” he said. “When I give a dinner, I hire a cook.” Once, Dionysius forced him to repeat a philosophical saying. “It is absurd,” Aristippus said, “for you to learn from me how to speak, yet tell me when I should speak.” Dionysius took offense and seated him at the lowest end of the table. Aristippus said, “You want to make this place more respectable.” One day, a man boasted about his skill as a diver. “Aren’t you ashamed,” Aristippus asked, “to be proud of doing what a dolphin does?” Once, someone asked him how a wise man was superior to an unwise man. He answered, “Send them both naked among strangers, and you will find out.” A man boasted that he could drink a great deal without getting drunk. Aristippus said, “A mule can do the same thing.” When a man criticized him for living with a mistress, Aristippus asked, “Does it matter whether you take a house where many others have lived before you, or one where no one has ever lived?” The man said, “No.” “Well, does it matter whether you sail in a ship that ten thousand people have sailed in before you, or one in which no one has ever sailed?” “Not at all,” the man said. “In the same way,” Aristippus said, “it makes no difference whether you live with a woman with whom many men have lived, or with one with whom no one has lived.” Once, someone criticized him for taking money from his pupils, since he had been a pupil of Socrates. “Of course I do,” he replied. “When friends sent Socrates grain and wine, he too accepted a little and sent the rest back. The leading men of Athens provided for him. But I have only Eutychides, whom I bought with money.” As Sotion tells us in the Second Book of his Successions, Aristippus lived with Lais the courtesan. When someone criticized him for this, he answered, “I possess her, but I am not possessed by her. The best thing is to enjoy pleasures without being their slave, not to have no pleasures at all.” When someone criticized the amount he spent on food, he said, “Wouldn’t you have bought those things yourself if they had cost three obols?” The man admitted that he would have. “Then,” Aristippus said, “it is not that I am fond of pleasure, but that you are fond of money.” Once, Simus, the steward of Dionysius, was showing him a magnificent house with marble floors. Simus was a Phrygian and a heavy drinker. Aristippus gathered a mouthful of saliva and spat in his face. Simus was indignant, but Aristippus said, “I could not find a more suitable place to spit.”

Charondas, or as some say, Phædon, asked him once, “Who are the people who use perfumes?” “I do,” said he, “wretched man that I am, and the king of the Persians is still more wretched than I; but, recollect, that as no animal is the worse for having a pleasant scent, so neither is a man; but plague take those wretches who abuse our beautiful unguents.” On another occasion, he was asked how Socrates died; and he made answer, “As I should wish to die myself.” When Polyxenus, the Sophist, came to his house and beheld his women, and the costly preparation that was made for dinner, and then blamed him for all this luxury, Aristippus after a while said, “Can you stay with me to day?” and when Polyxenus consented, “Why then,” said he, “did you blame me? it seems that you blame not the luxury, but the expense of it.” When his servant was once carrying some money along the road, and was oppressed by the weight of it (as Bion relates in his Dissertations), he said to him, “Drop what is beyond your strength, and only carry what you can.” Once he was at sea, and seeing a pirate vessel at a distance, he began to count his money; and then he let it drop into the sea, as if unintentionally, and began to bewail his loss; but others say that he said besides, that it was better for the money to be lost for the sake of Aristippus, than Aristippus for the sake of his money. On one occasion, when Dionysius asked him why he had come, he said, to give others a share of what he had, and to receive a share of what he had not; but some report that his answer was, “When I wanted wisdom, I went to Socrates; but now that I want money, I have come to you.” He found fault with men, because when they are at sales, they examine the articles offered very carefully, but yet they approve of men’s lives without any examination. Though some attribute this speech to Diogenes. They say that once at a banquet, Dionysius desired all the guests to dance in purple garments; but Plato refused, saying:—

Charondas, or Phædon, as some say, once asked him, “Who uses perfume?” “I do,” he said, “wretched man that I am, and the king of the Persians is even more wretched than I am. But remember, no animal is worse for smelling pleasant, and neither is a man. To hell with those wretches who speak badly of our beautiful perfumes.” On another occasion, someone asked him how Socrates died. He answered, “As I would wish to die myself.” When Polyxenus, the Sophist, came to his house, he saw his women and the expensive preparations for dinner. He criticized Aristippus for all this luxury. After a while, Aristippus asked, “Can you stay with me today?” Polyxenus agreed. “Then why,” Aristippus asked, “did you criticize me? It seems you object not to the luxury, but to its cost.” Bion relates in his Dissertations that Aristippus’s servant was once carrying money along a road. The weight was too much for him, so Aristippus said, “Drop whatever is too heavy for you, and carry only what you can.” Once, while at sea, Aristippus saw a pirate ship in the distance and began counting his money. Then he let the money fall into the sea, as if by accident, and began lamenting his loss. But others say he also remarked that it was better for the money to be lost for Aristippus’s sake than for Aristippus to be lost for the sake of his money. Once, when Dionysius asked him why he had come, Aristippus said he had come to share what he had with others and receive a share of what he lacked. But some report that he answered, “When I wanted wisdom, I went to Socrates. But now that I want money, I have come to you.” He criticized men because they carefully examine goods offered for sale, yet approve of men’s lives without examining them. Some, however, attribute this remark to Diogenes. They say that once at a banquet, Dionysius ordered all the guests to dance in purple garments. But Plato refused, saying:

“I could not wear a woman’s robe, when I Was born a man, and of a manly race.”

“I could not wear a woman’s robe when I was born a man, from a manly people.”

But Aristippus took the garment, and when he was about to dance, he said very wittily:—

But Aristippus took the garment, and as he was about to dance, he said very wittily:

“She who is chaste, will not corrupted be By Bacchanalian revels.”

“A chaste woman will not be corrupted by Bacchanalian revelry.”

He was once asking a favour of Dionysius for a friend, and when he could not prevail, he fell at his feet; and when some one reproached him for such conduct, he said, “It is not I who am to blame, but Dionysius who has his ears in his feet.” When he was staying in Asia, and was taken prisoner by Artaphernes the Satrap, some one said to him, “Are you still cheerful and sanguine?” “When, you silly fellow,” he replied, “can I have more reason to be cheerful than now when I am on the point of conversing with Artaphernes?” It used to be a saying of his, that those who had enjoyed the encyclic course of education, but who had omitted philosophy, were like the suitors of Penelope; for that they gained over Melantho and Polydora and the other maid-servants, and found it easier to do that than to marry the mistress. And Ariston said in like manner, that Ulysses when he had gone to the shades below, saw and conversed with nearly all the dead in those regions, but could not get a sight of the Queen herself.

Once, he asked Dionysius for a favor for a friend. When he could not persuade him, he fell at his feet. Someone reproached him for doing this, but he said, “I am not to blame. Dionysius is, because his ears are in his feet.” While he was staying in Asia, he was taken prisoner by Artaphernes the Satrap. Someone asked him, “Are you still cheerful and hopeful?” He replied, “You fool, when could I have more reason to be cheerful than now, when I am about to speak with Artaphernes?” He used to say that people who had received a general education but had neglected philosophy were like Penelope’s suitors. The suitors won over Melantho, Polydora, and the other maidservants. They found that easier than marrying the mistress of the house. Similarly, Ariston said that when Ulysses went down to the underworld, he saw and spoke with nearly all the dead there, but could not catch sight of the Queen herself.

On another occasion, Aristippus being asked what were the most necessary things for well-born boys to learn, said, “Those things which they will put in practice when they become men.” And when some one reproached him for having come from Socrates to Dionysius, his reply was, “I went to Socrates because I wanted instruction (παιδεῖας), and I have come to Dionysius because I want diversion (παιδιᾶς).” As he had made money by having pupils, Socrates once said to him, “Where did you get so much?” and he answered, “Where you got a little.” When his mistress said to him, “I am in the family way by you,” he said, “You can no more tell that, than you could tell, after you had gone through a thicket, which thorn had scratched you.” And when some one blamed him for repudiating his son, as if he were not really his, he said, “I know that phlegm, and I know that lice, proceed from us, but still we cast them away as useless.” One day, when he had received some money from Dionysius, and Plato had received a book, he said to a man who jeered him, “The fact is, money is what I want, and books what Plato wants.” When he was asked what it was for which he was reproached by Dionysius, “The same thing,” said he, “for which others reproach me.” One day he asked Dionysius for some money, who said, “But you told me that a wise man would never be in want;” “Give me some,” Aristippus rejoined, “and then we will discuss that point;” Dionysius gave him some, “Now then,” said he, “you see that I do not want money.” When Dionysius said to him;—

On another occasion, Aristippus was asked what well-born boys most needed to learn. He said, “The things they will put into practice when they become men.” Someone criticized him for leaving Socrates for Dionysius. Aristippus replied, “I went to Socrates because I wanted instruction (παιδεῖας), and I came to Dionysius because I want diversion (παιδιᾶς).” Aristippus had made money by teaching pupils. Once Socrates asked him, “Where did you get so much?” Aristippus answered, “Where you got a little.” His mistress said to him, “I am pregnant with your child.” He replied, “You can no more tell that than you could tell which thorn scratched you after walking through a thicket.” Someone also blamed him for disowning his son, as if the boy were not really his. He said, “I know that phlegm and lice come from us, but we throw them away as useless.” One day, Dionysius gave Aristippus some money and Plato a book. When a man mocked Aristippus, he said, “The fact is, money is what I want, and books are what Plato wants.” When asked what Dionysius criticized him for, he said, “The same thing others criticize me for.” One day Aristippus asked Dionysius for money. Dionysius said, “But you told me that a wise man would never be in need.” Aristippus replied, “Give me some money, and then we will discuss that point.” Dionysius gave him some. “Now then,” Aristippus said, “you see that I do not need money.” When Dionysius said to him:

“For he who does frequent a tyrant’s court, Becomes his slave, though free when first he came:”

“Anyone who regularly visits a tyrant’s court, Becomes his slave, though he was free when he first came:”

In his life of Pompey, Plutarch attributes these lines to Sophocles, but does not name the play they came from.

He took him up, and replied:—

He interrupted him and replied:

“That man is but a slave who comes as free.”

“A man who comes as a free man is only a slave.”

This story is told by Diocles, in his book on the Lives of the Philosophers; but others attribute the rejoinder to Plato. He once quarrelled with Æschines, and presently afterwards said to him, “Shall we not make it up of our own accord, and cease this folly; but will you wait till some blockhead reconciles us over our cups?” “With all my heart,” said Æschines. “Recollect, then,” said Aristippus, “that I, who am older than you, have made the first advances.” And Æschines answered, “You say well, by Juno, since you are far better than I; for I began the quarrel, but you begin the friendship.” And these are the anecdotes which are told of him.

Diocles tells this story in his book on the Lives of the Philosophers, but others attribute the reply to Plato. Aristippus once quarreled with Æschines. Soon afterward, he said to him, “Shall we make up on our own and put an end to this foolishness? Or will you wait until some fool reconciles us over drinks?” “With all my heart,” said Æschines. “Remember, then,” said Aristippus, “that I am older than you, yet I made the first move.” Æschines answered, “You are right, by Juno. You are much better than I am, for I started the quarrel, but you have started the friendship.” These are the anecdotes told about Aristippus.

V. Now there were four people of the name of Aristippus; one, the man of whom we are now speaking; the second, the man who wrote the history of Arcadia; the third was one who, because he had been brought up by his mother, had the name of μητροδίδαντος given to him; and he was the grandson of the former, being his daughter’s son; the fourth was a philosopher of the New Academy.

V. There were four people named Aristippus. The first is the man we are discussing. The second wrote a history of Arcadia. The third was called μητροδίδαντος because his mother had brought him up. He was the first Aristippus’s grandson, the son of his daughter. The fourth was a philosopher of the New Academy.

VI. There are three books extant, written by the Cyrenaic philosopher, which are, a history of Africa, and which were sent by him to Dionysius; and there is another book containing twenty-five dialogues, some written in the Attic, and some in the Doric dialect. And these are the titles of the Dialogues—Artabazus; to the Shipwrecked Sailors; to the Exiles; to a Beggar; to Lais; to Porus; to Lais about her Looking-glass; Mercury; the Dream; to the President of the Feast; Philomelus; to his Domestics; to those who reproached him for possessing old wine and mistresses; to those who reproached him for spending much money on his eating; a Letter to Arete his daughter; a letter to a man who was training himself for the Olympic games; a book of Questions; another book of Questions; a Dissertation addressed to Dionysius; an Essay on a Statue; an Essay on the daughter of Dionysius; a book addressed to one who thought himself neglected; another to one who attempted to give him advice. Some say, also, that he wrote six books of dissertations; but others, the chief of whom is Sosicrates of Rhodes, affirm that he never wrote a single thing. According to the assertions of Sotion in his second book; and of Panætius, on the contrary, he composed the following books,—one concerning Education; one concerning Virtue; one called An Exhortation; Artabazus; the Shipwrecked Men; the Exiles; six books of Dissertations; three books of Apophthegms; an essay addressed to Lais; one to Porus; one to Socrates; one on Fortune. And he used to define the chief good as a gentle motion tending to sensation.

VI. Three surviving books by the Cyrenaic philosopher make up a history of Africa. He sent them to Dionysius. There is also another book containing twenty-five dialogues, some written in the Attic dialect and some in the Doric dialect. Their titles are: Artabazus, To the Shipwrecked Sailors, To the Exiles, To a Beggar, To Lais, To Porus, To Lais About Her Mirror, Mercury, The Dream, To the President of the Feast, Philomelus, To His Servants, To Those Who Criticized Him for Having Old Wine and Mistresses, To Those Who Criticized Him for Spending Much Money on Food, A Letter to Arete His Daughter, A Letter to a Man Training for the Olympic Games, A Book of Questions, Another Book of Questions, A Dissertation Addressed to Dionysius, An Essay on a Statue, An Essay on the Daughter of Dionysius, A Book Addressed to Someone Who Thought Himself Neglected, and Another Addressed to Someone Who Tried to Advise Him. Some also say that he wrote six books of dissertations. But others, most notably Sosicrates of Rhodes, maintain that he never wrote anything. Sotion, in his second book, and Panætius say, on the contrary, that he wrote the following books: one on Education, one on Virtue, one called An Exhortation, Artabazus, The Shipwrecked Men, The Exiles, six books of Dissertations, three books of Sayings, an essay addressed to Lais, one to Porus, one to Socrates, and one on Fortune. He defined the highest good as a gentle motion leading to sensation.

VII. But since we have written his life, let us now speak of the Cyrenaics who came after him; some of whom called themselves Hegesiaci, some Annicerei, others Theodorei. And let us also enumerate the disciples of Phædo, the chief of whom were the Eretrians. Now the pupils of Aristippus were his own daughter Arete, and Æthiops of Ptolemais, and Antipater of Cyrene. Arete had for her pupil the Aristippus who was surnamed μητροδίδαντος, whose disciple was Theodorus the atheist, but who was afterwards called θεὸς. Antipater had for a pupil Epitimedes of Cyrene, who was the master of Paræbates, who was the master of Hegesias, who was surnamed πεισιθάνατος (persuading to die), and of Anniceris who ransomed Plato.

VII. Now that we have written his life, let us turn to the Cyrenaics who came after him. Some called themselves Hegesiaci, some Annicerei, and others Theodorei. Let us also list the disciples of Phædo, the most prominent of whom were the Eretrians. Aristippus’s pupils were his own daughter Arete, Æthiops of Ptolemais, and Antipater of Cyrene. Arete taught the Aristippus nicknamed μητροδίδαντος. His disciple was Theodorus the atheist, who was later called θεὸς. Antipater taught Epitimedes of Cyrene, who taught Paræbates. Paræbates taught Hegesias, nicknamed πεισιθάνατος (persuading to die), and Anniceris, who ransomed Plato.

VIII. These men then who continued in the school of Aristippus, and were called Cyrenaics, adopted the following opinions.—They said that there were two emotions of the mind, pleasure and pain; that the one, namely pleasure, was a moderate emotion; the other, namely pain, a rough one. And that no one pleasure was different from or more pleasant than another; and that pleasure was praised by all animals, but pain avoided. They said also that pleasure belonged to the body, and constituted its chief good, as Panætius also tells us in his book on Sects; but the pleasure which they call the chief good, is not that pleasure as a state, which consists in the absence of all pain, and is a sort of undisturbedness, which is what Epicurus admits as such; for the Cyrenaics think that there is a distinction between the chief good and a life of happiness, for that the chief good is a particular pleasure, but that happiness is a state consisting of a number of particular pleasures, among which, both those which are past, and those which are future, are both enumerated. And they consider that particular pleasure is desirable for its own sake; but that happiness is desirable not for its own sake, but for that of the particular pleasure. And that the proof that pleasure is the chief good is that we are from our childhood attracted to it without any deliberate choice of our own; and that when we have obtained it, we do not seek anything further, and also that there is nothing which we avoid so much as we do its opposite, which is pain. And they assert, too, that pleasure is a good, even if it arises from the most unbecoming causes, as Hippobotus tells us in his Treatise on Sects; for even if an action be ever so absurd, still the pleasure which arises out of it is desirable, and a good.

VIII. Those who remained in the school of Aristippus were called Cyrenaics. They held the following views. They said that the mind has two feelings, pleasure and pain. Pleasure is a gentle feeling, while pain is a rough one. No pleasure differs from another or is more pleasant than another. All animals welcome pleasure and avoid pain. They also said that pleasure belongs to the body and is its highest good. Panætius reports this in his book on Sects. But by the highest good, they did not mean pleasure as a state consisting in the absence of all pain. That state is a kind of tranquility, which Epicurus accepts as the highest good. The Cyrenaics distinguished between the highest good and a happy life. They held that the highest good is a particular pleasure. Happiness, by contrast, is a state made up of many particular pleasures, including both past and future ones. They considered a particular pleasure desirable for its own sake. Happiness, however, is desirable not for its own sake, but for the particular pleasures it contains. They argued that pleasure is the highest good because, from childhood, we are drawn to it without consciously choosing it. Once we have obtained it, we seek nothing more. They also argued that we avoid nothing as much as pleasure's opposite, pain. They maintained that pleasure is good even when it comes from the most improper sources. Hippobotus reports this in his Treatise on Sects. For even if an action is utterly absurd, the pleasure it produces is still desirable and good.

Moreover, the banishment of pain, as it is called by Epicurus, appears to the Cyrenaics not to be pleasure; for neither is the absence of pleasure pain, for both pleasure and pain consist in motion; and neither the absence of pleasure nor the absence of pain are motion. In fact, absence of pain is a condition like that of a person asleep. They say also that it is possible that some persons may not desire pleasure, owing to some perversity of mind; and that all the pleasures and pains of the mind, do not all originate in pleasures and pains of the body, for that pleasure often arises from the mere fact of the prosperity of one’s country, or from one’s own; but they deny that pleasure is caused by either the recollection or the anticipation of good fortune—though Epicurus asserted that it was—for the motion of the mind is put an end to by time. They say, too, that pleasure is not caused by simple seeing or hearing. Accordingly we listen with pleasure to those who give a representation of lamentations; but we are pained when we see men lamenting in reality. And they called the absence of pleasure and of pain intermediate states; and asserted that corporeal pleasures were superior to mental ones, and corporeal sufferings worse than mental ones. And they argued that it was on this principle that offenders were punished with bodily pain; for they thought that to suffer pain was hard, but that to be pleased was more in harmony with the nature of man, on which account also they took more care of the body than of the mind.

The Cyrenaics do not consider what Epicurus calls the removal of pain to be pleasure. Nor do they consider the absence of pleasure to be pain. Both pleasure and pain consist in motion, but neither the absence of pleasure nor the absence of pain is motion. In fact, the absence of pain is a state like sleep. They also say that some people may not desire pleasure because of some distortion of mind. They say that not all mental pleasures and pains arise from bodily pleasures and pains. For example, pleasure often arises simply from the prosperity of one’s country or oneself. But they deny that remembering or anticipating good fortune causes pleasure, although Epicurus claimed that it does. They deny this because the motion of the mind comes to an end with time. They also say that pleasure does not arise from simply seeing or hearing. Thus, we listen with pleasure to people acting out scenes of mourning, but feel pain when we see people mourning in real life. They called the absence of pleasure and pain intermediate states. They held that bodily pleasures were greater than mental pleasures, and bodily suffering worse than mental suffering. They argued that this was why offenders were punished with bodily pain. For they thought pain was hard to bear, while pleasure was more in keeping with human nature. For the same reason, they paid more attention to the body than to the mind.

And although pleasure is desirable for its own sake, still they admit that some of the efficient causes of it are often troublesome, and as such opposite to pleasure; so that they think that an assemblage of all the pleasures which produce happiness, is the most difficult thing conceivable. But they admit that every wise man does not live pleasantly, and that every bad man does not live unpleasantly, but that it is only a general rule admitting of some exceptions. And they think it sufficient if a person enjoys a happy time in consequence of one pleasure which befalls him. They say that prudence is a good, but is not desirable for its own sake, but for the sake of those things which result from it. That a friend is desirable for the sake of the use which we can make of him; for that the parts of the body also are loved while they are united to the body; and that some of the virtues may exist even in the foolish. They consider that bodily exercise contributes to the comprehension of virtue; and that the wise man will feel neither envy, nor love, nor superstition; for that these things originate in a fallacious opinion. They admit, at the same time, that he is liable to grief and fear, for that these are natural emotions. They said also that wealth is an efficient cause of pleasure, but that it is not desirable for its own sake. That the sensations are things which can be comprehended; but they limited this assertion to the sensations themselves, and did not extend it to the causes which produce them. They left out all investigation of the subjects of natural philosophy because of the evident impossibility of comprehending them; but they applied themselves to the study of logic, because of its utility.

Although pleasure is desirable for its own sake, they admit that some things that cause pleasure are often troublesome. As such, these causes are the opposite of pleasure. So they think that gathering all the pleasures that produce happiness is the most difficult thing imaginable. They admit that not every wise person lives pleasantly, and not every bad person lives unpleasantly. The rule is only a general one, with some exceptions. They think it is enough for a person to enjoy a happy time because of a single pleasure that comes along. They say that prudence is good, but desirable not for its own sake, but for what results from it. A friend is desirable because of the use we can make of them. Similarly, we love the parts of our body while they are attached to it. They also say that some virtues can exist even in foolish people. They believe that physical exercise helps people understand virtue. They also believe that the wise person will feel neither envy, love, nor superstition. These feelings arise from false beliefs. At the same time, they admit that a wise person can feel grief and fear, because these are natural emotions. They also say that wealth produces pleasure, but is not desirable for its own sake. Sensations, they say, can be understood. But this applies only to the sensations themselves, not to their causes. They did not investigate natural philosophy because it was plainly impossible to understand its subjects. But they studied logic because it was useful.

Meleager, in the second book of his Treatise on Opinions and Clitomachus in the first book of his Essay on Sects says, that they thought natural philosophy and dialectics useless for that the man who had learnt to understand the question of good and evil could speak with propriety, and was free from superstition, and escaped the fear of death, without either. They also taught that there was nothing naturally and intrinsically just, or honourable, or disgraceful; but that things were considered so because of law and fashion. The good man will do nothing out of the way, because of the punishments which are imposed on, and the discredit which is attached to, such actions: and that the good man is a wise man. They admit, too, that there is such a thing as improvement in philosophy, and in other good studies. And they say that one man feels grief more than another; and that the sensations are not always to be trusted as faithful guides.

Meleager, in the second book of his Treatise on Opinions, and Clitomachus, in the first book of his Essay on Sects, say that they considered natural philosophy and dialectics useless. They thought that anyone who understood good and evil could speak properly without either subject. Such a person could also be free from superstition and the fear of death. They also taught that nothing is naturally and inherently just, honorable, or disgraceful. Instead, things are considered so because of law and custom. A good person will do nothing improper because such actions bring punishment and disgrace. They also taught that a good person is wise. They acknowledge that people can make progress in philosophy and other worthwhile studies. They say that some people feel grief more deeply than others, and that the senses are not always reliable guides.

IX. But the philosophers who were called Hegesiaci, adopted the same chief goods, pleasure and pain; and they denied that there was any such thing as gratitude, or friendship, or beneficence, because we do not choose any of those things for their own sake, but on account of the use of which they are, and on account of these other things which cannot subsist without them. But they teach that complete happiness cannot possibly exist; for that the body is full of many sensations, and that the mind sympathizes with the body, and is troubled when that is troubled, and also that fortune prevents many things which we cherished in anticipation; so that for all these reasons, perfect happiness eludes our grasp. Moreover, that both life and death are desirable. They also say that there is nothing naturally pleasant or unpleasant, but that owing to want, or rarity, or satiety, some men are pleased and some vexed; and that wealth and poverty have no influence at all on pleasure, for that rich men are not affected by pleasure in a different manner from poor men. In the same way they say that slavery and freedom are things indifferent, if measured by the standard of pleasure, and nobility and baseness of birth, and glory and infamy. They add that, for the foolish man it is expedient to live, but to the wise man it is a matter of indifference; and that the wise man will do everything for his own sake; for that he will not consider any one else of equal importance with himself; and he will see that if he were to obtain ever such great advantages from any one else, they would not be equal to what he could himself bestow. They excluded the sensations, inasmuch as they had no certain knowledge about them; but they recommended the doing of everything which appeared consistent with reason.

IX. The philosophers called Hegesiaci also regarded pleasure and pain as the chief goods. They denied that gratitude, friendship, or beneficence existed. They argued that we choose none of these for its own sake, but for its usefulness and for the other things that cannot exist without it. They taught that complete happiness is impossible. The body experiences many sensations, and the mind shares in the body's distress. Fortune also prevents many things we have looked forward to. For all these reasons, perfect happiness eludes us. They also taught that both life and death are desirable. They said that nothing is pleasant or unpleasant by nature. Instead, want, rarity, or having had enough makes some people pleased and others displeased. Wealth and poverty have no effect on pleasure, since rich people experience pleasure no differently from poor people. Similarly, they said that slavery and freedom make no difference when measured by pleasure. The same is true of noble and humble birth, and of glory and disgrace. They added that it is better for a foolish person to live, but that life is a matter of indifference to a wise person. The wise person will do everything for his own sake, because he will not consider anyone else as important as himself. He will also see that, however great the benefits he receives from someone else, they cannot equal what he himself could give. They excluded the sensations because they had no certain knowledge of them. But they recommended doing everything that appeared consistent with reason.

They asserted also that errors ought to meet with pardon; for that a man did not err intentionally, but because he was influenced by some external circumstance; and that one ought not to hate a person who has erred, but only to teach him better. They likewise said that the wise man would not be so much absorbed in the pursuit of what is good, as in the attempt to avoid what is bad, considering the chief good to be living free from all trouble and pain; and that this end was attained best by those who looked upon the efficient causes of pleasure as indifferent.

They also said that mistakes should be forgiven. A person does not make mistakes intentionally, but because of some outside influence. So people should not hate someone who has made a mistake, but should teach that person to do better. They also said that a wise person would focus less on pursuing good than on avoiding evil. The wise person would consider the highest good to be a life free from all trouble and pain. Those who regarded the causes of pleasure as neither good nor bad were best able to achieve this life.

X. The Annicereans, in many respects, agreed with these last; but they admitted the existence in life of friendship and gratitude and respect for one’s parents, and the principle of endeavouring to serve one’s country. On which principle, even if the wise man should meet with some annoyance, he would be no less happy—even though he should have but few actual pleasures. They thought that the happiness of a friend was not to be desired by us for its own sake; for that in fact such happiness was not capable of being felt by the person’s neighbour; and that reason is not sufficient to give one confidence, and to authorise one to look down upon the opinions of the multitude; but that one must learn a deference for the sentiments of others by custom, because the opposite bad disposition being bred up with infirm and early age. They also taught that one ought not to like friends solely on account of the advantage that we may derive from them, and not discard them when these hopes or advantages fail; but that we ought rather to cultivate them on account of one’s natural feelings of benevolence, in compliance with which we ought also to encounter trouble for their sakes, so that though they consider pleasure the chief good, and the deprivation of it an evil, still they think that a man ought voluntarily to submit to this deprivation out of his regard for his friend.

X. The Annicereans agreed with the preceding philosophers in many respects. But they recognized friendship, gratitude, respect for one’s parents, and the effort to serve one’s country as part of life. On this principle, a wise person would be no less happy despite some annoyance, even with few actual pleasures. They held that we should not desire a friend’s happiness for its own sake, since we cannot actually feel that happiness ourselves. They also held that reason alone cannot give us confidence or justify looking down on popular opinion. Rather, we must learn through habit to respect the views of others, because the opposite bad disposition develops during our vulnerable early years. They also taught that we should not value friends solely for the benefits they may bring us. Nor should we abandon them when those hopes or benefits fail. Instead, we should cherish them because of our natural feelings of goodwill. These feelings should also lead us to endure trouble for their sake. Although the Annicereans considered pleasure the highest good and its loss an evil, they believed we should willingly give up pleasure out of regard for a friend.

XI. The Theodoreans, as they are called, derived their name from the Theodorus who has been already mentioned, and adopted all his doctrines.

XI. The Theodoreans, as they are called, took their name from the Theodorus mentioned earlier. They adopted all his doctrines.

XII. Now Theodorus utterly discarded all previous opinions about the Gods: and we have met with a book of his which is entitled, On Gods, which is not to be despised; and it is from that that they say that Epicurus derived the principal portions of his sentiments. But Theodorus had been a pupil of Anniceris, and of Dionysius the Dialectician, as Antisthenes tells us in his Successions of Philosophers.

XII. Theodorus rejected all previous opinions about the gods. We have come across a book of his called On Gods, which is worth reading. People say that Epicurus drew the main parts of his views from this book. But Theodorus had studied under Anniceris and Dionysius the Dialectician, as Antisthenes tells us in his Successions of Philosophers.

XIII. He considered joy and grief as the chief goods: and that the former resulted from knowledge, and the latter from ignorance. And he called prudence and justice goods: the contrary qualities evils, and pleasure and pain something intermediate. He discarded friendship from his system, because it could not exist either in foolish men or in wise men. For that, in the case of the former, friendship was at an end the moment that the advantage to be derived from it was out of sight. And that wise men were sufficient for themselves, and so had no need of friends. He used also to say that it was reasonable for a good man not to expose himself to danger for the sake of his country, for that he ought not to discard his own prudence for the sake of benefiting those who had none. And he said that a wise man’s country was the World. He allowed that a wise man might steal, and commit adultery and sacrilege, at proper seasons: for that none of these actions were disgraceful by nature, if one only put out of sight the common opinion about them, which owes its existence to the consent of fools. And he said that the wise man would indulge his passions openly, without any regard to circumstances: on which principle he used to ask the following questions: “Is a woman who is well instructed in literature of use just in proportion to the amount of her literary knowledge?” “Yes,” said the person questioned. “And is a boy, and is a youth, useful in proportion to his acquaintance with literature?” “Yes.” “Is not then, also, a beautiful woman useful in proportion as she is beautiful; and a boy and a youth useful in proportion to their beauty?” “Yes.” “Well, then, a handsome boy and a handsome youth must be useful exactly in proportion as they are handsome?” “Yes.” “Now the use of beauty is, to be embraced.” And when this was granted he pressed the argument thus:—If then a man embraces a woman just as it is useful that he should, he does not do wrong; nor, again, will he be doing wrong in employing beauty for the purposes for which it is useful. And with such questions as these he appeared to convince his hearers.

XIII. He considered joy and grief the chief goods. He held that joy came from knowledge and grief from ignorance. He called prudence and justice good, their opposites evil, and pleasure and pain neither good nor evil. He excluded friendship from his system because it could exist neither among foolish people nor among wise people. Among the foolish, friendship ended as soon as there was no advantage to be gained from it. Wise people were self-sufficient and therefore had no need of friends. He also said that a good man was justified in refusing to risk his life for his country. He should not give up his own prudence to benefit those who had none. He said that the whole world was a wise man’s country. He allowed that a wise man might steal, commit adultery, or commit sacrilege when the occasion was right. None of these acts was shameful by nature, if one set aside common opinion. That opinion existed only because fools agreed on it. He also said that a wise man would openly indulge his passions, regardless of the circumstances. To support this view, he used to ask questions like these: “Is a woman educated in literature useful in proportion to her knowledge of literature?” “Yes,” the person questioned said. “And are a boy and a young man useful in proportion to their knowledge of literature?” “Yes.” “Then is a beautiful woman also useful in proportion to her beauty? And are a boy and a young man useful in proportion to their beauty?” “Yes.” “Well, then, a handsome boy and a handsome young man must be useful exactly in proportion to their good looks?” “Yes.” “Now the use of beauty is to be embraced.” Once this was granted, he pressed his argument: If a man embraces a woman in the way her usefulness calls for, he does nothing wrong. Nor does he do wrong by using beauty for the purposes for which it is useful. With questions like these, he appeared to convince his listeners.

XIV. But he appears to have got the name of θεὸς from Stilpo one day asking him, “Are you, Theodorus, what you say you are?” And when he said he was, “And you said that you are θεὸς,” continued his questioner; he admitted that also. “Then,” continued the other, “you are θεὸς.” And as he willingly received the title, the other laughed and said, “But you, wretched man, according to this principle, you would also admit that you were a raven, or a hundred other things.” One day Theodorus sat down by Euryclides the hierophant, and said to him, “Tell me now, Euryclides, who are they who behave impiously with respect to the mysteries?” And when Euryclides answered, “Those who divulge them to the uninitiated;” “Then,” said he, “you also are impious, for you divulge them to those who are not initiated.”

XIV. But he seems to have acquired the name θεὸς after Stilpo asked him one day, “Are you, Theodorus, what you say you are?” Theodorus said he was. “And you said that you are θεὸς,” Stilpo continued. Theodorus admitted that too. “Then,” Stilpo continued, “you are θεὸς.” Theodorus gladly accepted the title. But Stilpo laughed and said, “You wretched man, by that reasoning, you would also admit you were a raven, or a hundred other things.” One day Theodorus sat down beside Euryclides the hierophant and asked him, “Tell me, Euryclides, who acts impiously toward the mysteries?” Euryclides answered, “Those who reveal them to the uninitiated.” “Then,” Theodorus said, “you too are impious, because you reveal them to those who are not initiated.”

XV. And indeed he was very near being brought before the Areopagus if Demetrius of Phalereus had not saved him. But Amphicrates in his Essay on Illustrious Men, says that he was condemned to drink hemlock.

XV. He nearly faced trial before the Areopagus, but Demetrius of Phalereus saved him. However, Amphicrates says in his Essay on Illustrious Men that he was sentenced to drink hemlock.

XVI. While he was staying at the court of Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, he was sent once by him to Lysimachus as an ambassador. And as he was talking very freely, Lysimachus said to him, “Tell me, Theodorus, have not you been banished from Athens?” And he replied, “you have been rightly informed; for the city of the Athenians could not bear me, just as Semele could not bear Bacchus; and so we were both cast out.” And when Lysimachus said again, “Take care that you do not come to me again;” “I never will,” he replied, “unless Ptolemy sends me.” And as Mythras, the steward of Lysimachus was present, and said, “You appear to me to be the only person who ignores both Gods and Sovereigns;” “How,” rejoined Theodorus, “can you say that I ignore the Gods, when I look upon you as their enemy?”

XVI. While Theodorus was staying at the court of Ptolemy, son of Lagus, Ptolemy once sent him as an ambassador to Lysimachus. Theodorus spoke very freely, and Lysimachus said to him, “Tell me, Theodorus, weren’t you banished from Athens?” Theodorus replied, “You were correctly informed. The city of Athens could not bear me, just as Semele could not bear Bacchus, so we were both cast out.” Lysimachus then said, “Take care not to come to me again.” “I never will,” Theodorus replied, “unless Ptolemy sends me.” Mythras, the steward of Lysimachus, was also present. He said, “You seem to me to be the only person who disregards both gods and rulers.” Theodorus replied, “How can you say I disregard the gods when I regard you as their enemy?”

XVII. They say also that on one occasion he came to Corinth, bringing with him a great many disciples; and that Metrocles the Cynic, who was washing leeks, said to him, “You, who are a Sophist, would not have wanted so many pupils, if you had washed vegetables.” And Theodorus, taking him up, replied, “And if you had known how to associate with men, you would not have cared about those vegetables.” But this rejoinder, as I have said already, is attributed both to Diogenes and Aristippus.

XVII. They also say that he once came to Corinth with a great many disciples. Metrocles the Cynic was washing leeks and said to him, “You are a Sophist. If you had washed vegetables, you would not have needed so many pupils.” Theodorus replied, “And if you had known how to get along with people, you would not have cared about those vegetables.” But as I have already said, this reply is attributed to both Diogenes and Aristippus.

XVIII. Such was Theodorus, and such were his circumstances and opinions. But at last he went away to Cyrene, and lived there with Megas, being treated by him with the greatest distinction. And when he was first driven away from Cyrene, he is reported to have said very pleasantly, “You do wrong, O men of Cyrene, driving me from Africa to Greece.”

XVIII. Such was Theodorus, and such were his circumstances and opinions. But eventually he went to Cyrene and lived there with Megas, who treated him with great distinction. When Theodorus was first driven out of Cyrene, he is said to have joked, “You men of Cyrene are doing me wrong by driving me from Africa to Greece.”

XIX. But there were twenty different people of the name of Theodorus. The first was a Samian, the son of Rhœcus; he it was who advised the putting of coals under the foundations of the temple of Diana at Ephesus; for as the ground was very swampy, he said that the coals, having got rid of their ligneous qualities, would retain their solidity in a way that could not be impaired by water. The second was a Cyrenean, a geometrician, and had Plato for one of his pupils. The third was the philosopher whom we have been describing. The fourth was an author who wrote a very remarkable treatise on the art of exercising the voice. The fifth was a man who wrote a treatise on Musical Composers, beginning with Terpander. The sixth was a Stoic. The seventh was the historian of Rome. The eighth was a Syracusan, who wrote an Essay on Tactics. The ninth was a citizen of Byzantium, who was a political orator. The tenth was another orator, who is mentioned by Aristotle in his Epitome of the Orators. The eleventh was a Theban, a statuary. The twelfth was a painter, who is mentioned by Polemo. The thirteenth was also a painter, who is spoken of by Menodotus. The fourteenth was an Ephesian, a painter, mentioned by Theophanes in his Essay on Painting. The fifteenth was an epigrammatic poet. The sixteenth wrote an essay on Poets. The seventeenth was a physician, a pupil of Athenæus. The eighteenth was a Chian, a Stoic philosopher. The nineteenth was a citizen of Miletus, another Stoic. The twentieth was a tragic poet.

XIX. There were twenty different people named Theodorus. The first was a Samian, the son of Rhœcus. He advised placing coals beneath the foundations of the temple of Diana at Ephesus. The ground was very swampy. He said that the coals, having lost their woody qualities, would remain solid and could not be weakened by water. The second was a Cyrenean and a geometer. Plato was one of his pupils. The third was the philosopher we have been describing. The fourth was an author who wrote a remarkable treatise on the art of voice training. The fifth wrote a treatise on Musical Composers, beginning with Terpander. The sixth was a Stoic. The seventh was the historian of Rome. The eighth was a Syracusan who wrote an Essay on Tactics. The ninth was a citizen of Byzantium and a political orator. The tenth was another orator, mentioned by Aristotle in his Epitome of the Orators. The eleventh was a Theban sculptor. The twelfth was a painter mentioned by Polemo. The thirteenth was another painter, mentioned by Menodotus. The fourteenth was an Ephesian painter, mentioned by Theophanes in his Essay on Painting. The fifteenth was a poet who wrote epigrams. The sixteenth wrote an essay on Poets. The seventeenth was a physician and a pupil of Athenæus. The eighteenth was a Chian and a Stoic philosopher. The nineteenth was a citizen of Miletus and another Stoic. The twentieth was a tragic poet.