Zeno's Life

1h 32m

I. Zeno was the son of Mnaseas, or Demeas, and a native of Citium, in Cyprus, which is a Grecian city, partly occupied by a Phœnician colony.

I. Zeno was the son of Mnaseas or Demeas. He came from Citium, a Greek city in Cyprus, partly occupied by a Phoenician colony.

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

II. His head naturally tilted to one side, according to Timotheus the Athenian, in his work on Lives. Apollonius of Tyre says he was thin, very tall, and dark-skinned. Because of his appearance, someone once called him an Egyptian Clematis, as Chrysippus relates in the first volume of his Proverbs. His legs were fat, flabby, and weak. For this reason, Persæus says in his Convivial Reminiscences that he used to refuse many invitations to supper. He was also said to be very fond of both fresh and sun-dried figs.

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

III. As already stated, he was a pupil of Crates. Afterward, they say, he studied under Stilpon and Xenocrates for ten years, as Timocrates relates in his Life of Dion. He is also said to have studied under Polemo. But Hecaton and Apollonius of Tyre tell another story in the first book of Apollonius’s essay on Zeno. They say that Zeno asked the oracle how he could live in the best possible way. The god answered that he should become the same complexion as the dead. Zeno understood this to mean that he should read the books of the ancients. He came to study under Crates in the following way. He had bought a quantity of purple dye from Phœnicia and was shipwrecked near the Piræus. He made his way from the coast to Athens, where he sat down by a bookseller’s stall. He was about thirty years old at the time. He picked up the second book of Xenophon’s Memorabilia and began to read. Delighted by it, he asked where men like those described in the book lived. Crates happened to pass by at just that moment. The bookseller pointed him out and said, “Follow that man.” From then on, Zeno became a pupil of Crates. Though he was otherwise very energetic in his study of philosophy, he was too modest for the shamelessness of the Cynics. Crates wanted to cure him of this false shame, so he gave him a jar of lentil porridge to carry through the Ceramicus. When Crates saw that Zeno was ashamed and was trying to hide the jar, he struck it with his staff and broke it. Zeno fled, with lentil porridge running down his legs. Crates called after him, “Why are you running away, my little Phœnician? You have done no harm.” Zeno remained a pupil of Crates for some time. When he wrote his treatise called the Republic, some joked that he had written it on the tail of the dog.

IV. And besides his Republic, he was the author also of the following works:—a treatise on a Life according to Nature; one on Appetite, or the Nature of Man; one on Passions; one on the Becoming; one on Law; one on the usual Education of the Greeks; one on Sight; one on the Whole; one on Signs; one on the Doctrines of the Pythagoreans; one on Things in General; one on Styles; five essays on Problems relating to Homer; one on the Bearing of the Poets. There is also an essay on Art by him, and two books of Solutions and Jests, and Reminiscences, and one called the Ethics of Crates. These are the books of which he was the author.

IV. Besides his Republic, he wrote the following works: Life According to Nature, Appetite, or the Nature of Man, Passions, the Becoming, Law, the Usual Education of the Greeks, Sight, the Whole, Signs, the Doctrines of the Pythagoreans, Things in General, Styles, five essays on Problems Relating to Homer, and the Bearing of the Poets. He also wrote an essay on Art, two books of Solutions and Jests, Reminiscences, and a work called the Ethics of Crates. These are the books he wrote.

V. But at last he left Crates, and became the pupil of the philosophers whom I have mentioned before, and continued with them for twenty years. So that it is related that he said, “I now find that I made a prosperous voyage when I was wrecked.” But some affirm that he made this speech in reference to Crates. Others say, that while he was staying at Athens he heard of a shipwreck, and said, “Fortune does well in having driven us on philosophy.” But as some relate the affair, he was not wrecked at all, but sold all his cargo at Athens, and then turned to philosophy.

V. But eventually he left Crates and became a student of the philosophers I mentioned earlier. He studied with them for twenty years. As a result, he is said to have remarked, “I now see that my shipwreck was a profitable voyage.” But some say he made this remark about Crates. Others say that, while he was in Athens, he heard of a shipwreck and said, “Fortune did well to drive us toward philosophy.” But according to some accounts, he was never shipwrecked. Instead, he sold all his cargo at Athens and then turned to philosophy.

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

VI. He used to walk up and down the beautiful colonnade called the Peisianactium. It was also called ποικίλη because of the paintings by Polygnotus. He gave his talks there, hoping to make the place peaceful. For in the time of the thirty, they had murdered nearly fourteen hundred citizens there.

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

VII. From then on, people came there to hear Zeno, and his pupils were called Stoics. His successors were also called Stoics. At first, they had been called Zenonians, as Epicurus tells us in his Epistles. Earlier, the poets who frequented this colonnade (στοὰ) had been called Stoics. Eratosthenes tells us this in the eighth book of his treatise on the Old Comedy. But Zeno’s pupils now made the name better known. The Athenians held Zeno in such high regard that they gave him the keys to their city walls. They also honored him with a golden crown and a bronze statue. His own countrymen did the same, considering a statue of such a man an honor to their city. The Cittiæans in the district of Sidon also claimed him as their countryman.

VIII. He was also much respected by Antigonus, who, whenever he came to Athens, used to attend his lectures, and was constantly inviting him to come to him. But he begged off himself, and sent Persæus, one of his intimate friends, who was the son of Demetrius, and a Cittiæan by birth, and who flourished about the hundred and thirtieth olympiad, when Zeno was an old man. The letter of Antigonus to Zeno was as follows, and it is reported by Apollonius, the Syrian, in his essay on Zeno.

VIII. Antigonus also greatly respected Zeno. Whenever Antigonus came to Athens, he attended Zeno’s lectures and constantly invited him to visit. But Zeno declined and sent Persæus, one of his close friends, in his place. Persæus was the son of Demetrius and a Cittiæan by birth. He flourished around the hundred and thirtieth olympiad, when Zeno was an old man. The following letter from Antigonus to Zeno is recorded by Apollonius, the Syrian, in his essay on Zeno.

KING ANTIGONUS TO ZENO THE PHILOSOPHER, GREETING

King Antigonus Sends Greetings to Zeno the Philosopher

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

“I think I have the advantage over you in good fortune and glory. But I am inferior to you in reason and education, and in the perfect happiness you have attained. For that reason, I thought it best to write and invite you to come to me. I am convinced that you will not refuse my request. So please do everything you can to come. Remember that you will be teaching not only me, but all the Macedonians. Whoever teaches the ruler of the Macedonians and guides him toward virtue clearly leads all his subjects toward happiness. For people naturally tend to be like their ruler.”

And Zeno wrote him back the following answer.

And Zeno wrote back to him with the following reply.

ZENO TO KING ANTIGONUS, GREETING

Zeno to King Antigonus, Greetings

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

“I admire your desire for learning. It is a worthy goal for humanity and one that brings people benefits. Anyone who seeks to study philosophy rightly rejects popular education, which only corrupts morals. You also turn away from the much praised pleasure that makes some young men soft. This shows clearly that you are drawn to noble pursuits, not only by nature but also by deliberate choice. A noble nature needs only a little training and access to those who will teach it fully. Then it will reach perfect virtue without difficulty. But my health has suffered with age, for I am eighty years old. For that reason, I cannot come to you. Instead, I am sending you some of those who have studied with me. Their knowledge of the soul is in no way inferior to mine, and they are far stronger in body. If you spend time with them, you will lack nothing that could contribute to perfect happiness.”

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

So he sent him Persæus and Philonides of Thebes. In his letter to his brother Aristobulus, Epicurus mentions both as companions of Antigonus.

IX. And I have thought it worth while also to set down the decree of the Athenians concerning him; and it is couched in the following language.

IX. I also thought it worthwhile to record the Athenians' decree concerning him. It reads as follows:

“In the archonship of Arrhenides, in the fifth presidency of the tribe Acamantis, on the twenty-first day of the month Maimacterion, on the twenty-third day of the aforesaid presidency, in a duly convened assembly, Hippo, the son of Cratistoteles, of the borough of Xypetion, being one of the presidents, and the rest of the presidents, his colleagues, put the following decree to the vote. And the decree was proposed by Thrason, of Anacæa, the son of Thrason.

“During the archonship of Arrhenides, the tribe Acamantis held its fifth presidency. On the twenty-first day of Maimacterion, the twenty-third day of that presidency, an assembly was duly convened. Hippo, son of Cratistoteles, of the borough of Xypetion, was one of the presidents. He and his fellow presidents put the following decree to a vote. Thrason, son of Thrason, of Anacæa, proposed the decree.

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

“Zeno, son of Mnaseas, the Cittiæan, has spent many years in the city studying philosophy. He has been a good man in every other respect as well. He has urged all the young men who sought his company to practice virtue and temperance. He has made his own life a model of the highest excellence for everyone. In every respect, his life has matched the doctrines he has taught. For these reasons, the people have decided to praise Zeno, son of Mnaseas, the Cittiæan. May this decision bring good fortune. Because of his virtue and temperance, the people will award him a golden crown in accordance with the law. They will also build him a tomb in the Ceramicus at public expense. The people have voted to appoint five men from among the citizens of Athens. They will oversee the making of the crown and the building of the tomb. The borough scribe shall record the decree and have it engraved on two pillars. He may place one pillar in the Academy and the other in the Lyceum. The person appointed to oversee the work shall divide the expense of the pillars. He shall do this so everyone may understand that all the people of Athens honor good men in life and after death. Thrason of Anacæa, Philocles of the Piræus, Phædrus of Anaphlystos, Medon of Acharnæ, Micythus of Sypalettus, and Dion of Pæania are hereby appointed to oversee the building of the tomb.”

These then are the terms of the decree.

These are the terms of the decree.

X. But Antigonus, of Carystos, says, that Zeno himself never denied that he was a native of Cittium. For that when on one occasion, there was a citizen of that town who had contributed to the building of some baths, and was having his name engraved on the pillar, as the countryman of Zeno the philosopher, he bade them add, “Of Cittium.”

X. But Antigonus of Carystos says that Zeno himself never denied being from Cittium. Once, a citizen of Cittium contributed to the building of some baths. His name was being engraved on a pillar, identifying him as a fellow citizen of Zeno the philosopher. Zeno told them to add, “Of Cittium.”

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

XI. On another occasion, he had a hollow cover made for a vessel and carried it around to raise some money. He wanted to give his master Crates immediate relief from some difficulties that were troubling him. They say that when he first arrived in Greece, he had more than a thousand talents, which he lent out at interest on maritime loans.

XII. And he used to eat little loaves and honey, and to drink a small quantity of sweet smelling wine.

XII. He used to eat small loaves of bread and honey, and drink a little fragrant wine.

XIII. He had very few youthful acquaintances of the male sex, and he did not cultivate them much, lest he should be thought to be a misogynist. And he dwelt in the same house with Persæus; and once, when he brought in a female flute-player to him, he hastened to bring her back to him.

XIII. He knew very few young men, and he did not spend much time with them, for fear of being thought a misogynist. He lived in the same house as Persæus. Once, when he brought him a female flute-player, he hurried to bring her back to him.

XIV. And he was, it is said, of a very accommodating temper; so much so, that Antigonus, the king, often came to dine with him, and often carried him off to dine with him, at the house of Aristocles the harp-player; but when he was there, he would presently steal away.

XIV. And he was said to be very accommodating. King Antigonus often came to dine with him. Antigonus also often took him to dine at the house of Aristocles the harpist. But once there, he would soon slip away.

XV. It is also said that he avoided a crowd with great care, so that he used to sit at the end of a bench, in order at all events to avoid being incommoded on one side. And he never used to walk with more than two or three companions. And he used at times to exact a piece of money from all who came to hear him, with a view of not being distressed by numbers; and this story is told by Cleanthes, in his treatise on Brazen Money. And when he was surrounded by any great crowd, he would point to a balustrade of wood at the end of the colonnade which surrounded an altar, and say, “That was once in the middle of this place, but it was placed apart because it was in people’s way; and now, if you will only withdraw from the middle here, you too will incommode me much less.”

XV. It is also said that he took great care to avoid crowds. He would sit at the end of a bench, so that at least no one would bother him on one side. He never walked with more than two or three companions. At times, he charged everyone who came to hear him a coin, to keep from being troubled by crowds. Cleanthes tells this story in his treatise on Brazen Money. When a large crowd surrounded him, he would point to a wooden railing at the end of the colonnade surrounding an altar. He would say, “That railing once stood in the middle of this place, but it was moved aside because it was in people’s way. Now, if you will only move away from the middle here, you too will bother me much less.”

XVI. And when Demochares, the son of Laches, embraced him once, and said that he would tell Antigonus, or write to him of everything which he wanted, as he always did everything for him, Zeno, when he had heard him say this, avoided his company for the future. And it is said, that after the death of Zeno, Antigonus said, “What a spectacle have I lost.” On which account he employed Thrason, their ambassador, to entreat of the Athenians to allow him to be buried in the Ceramicus. And when he was asked why he had such an admiration for him, he replied, “Because, though I gave him a great many important presents, he was never elated, and never humbled.”

XVI. Once, Demochares, the son of Laches, embraced Zeno and made him an offer. He said he would tell Antigonus, or write to him, about anything Zeno wanted, since Antigonus always did everything for him. After hearing this, Zeno avoided Demochares for the rest of his life. It is said that after Zeno died, Antigonus said, “What a sight I have lost.” For this reason, he asked Thrason, their ambassador, to beg the Athenians to allow Zeno to be buried in the Ceramicus. When Antigonus was asked why he admired Zeno so much, he replied, “Because, although I gave him many important gifts, he was never elated or humbled.”

XVII. He was a man of a very investigating spirit, and one who inquired very minutely into everything; in reference to which, Timon, in his Silli, speaks thus:—

XVII. He was very inquisitive and examined everything closely. Referring to this, Timon says in his Silli:

I saw an aged woman of Phœnicia, Hungry and covetous, in a proud obscurity, Longing for everything. She had a basket So full of holes that it retained nothing. Likewise her mind was less than a skindapsus.

I saw an old woman from Phœnicia, Hungry and greedy, proud yet obscure, Longing for everything. She had a basket So full of holes that it held nothing. Likewise, her mind was smaller than a skindapsus.

A kind of guitar or violin.

He used to study very carefully with Philo, the dialectician, and to argue with him at their mutual leisure; on which account he excited the wonder of the younger Zeno, no less than Diodorus his master.

He studied very carefully with Philo, the dialectician, and debated with him when they both had free time. This amazed the younger Zeno as much as it amazed Diodorus, his master.

XVIII. There were also a lot of dirty beggars always about him, as Timon tells us, where he says:—

XVIII. There were also many dirty beggars always around him, as Timon tells us when he says:

Till he collected a vast cloud of beggars, Who were of all men in the world the poorest, And the most worthless citizens of Athens.

Until he gathered a huge crowd of beggars, Who were the poorest people in the whole world, And the most worthless citizens of Athens.

And he himself was a man of a morose and bitter countenance, with a constantly frowning expression. He was very economical, and descended even to the meanness of the barbarians, under the pretence of economy.

He had a gloomy, bitter face and was always frowning. He was very frugal, and under the pretense of thrift, he sank to the level of the barbarians in his stinginess.

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

XIX. When he criticized someone, he was brief and did not exaggerate, and he spoke, as it were, from a distance. For example, he once spoke about a man who took great pains with his appearance. The man was crossing a gutter with great hesitation. He said, “He is right to look down on the mud, because he cannot see himself in it.” One day, a Cynic said he had no oil in his flask and asked him for some. He refused, but told the Cynic to go away and consider which of them was more shameless. He was deeply in love with Chremonides. Once, when he and Cleanthes were both sitting beside Chremonides, he got up. Cleanthes wondered why, and he said, “I hear from skilled doctors that rest is best for some swellings.” Once, at a banquet, two people were sitting above him at the table. The one next to him kept kicking the other with his foot. So he kicked his neighbor with his knee. When the man turned around to confront him, he said, “Why then do you think you should treat your other neighbor that way?”

On one occasion he said to a man who was very fond of young boys, that “Schoolmasters who were always associating with boys had no more intellect than the boys themselves.” He used also to say that the discourses of those men who were careful to avoid solecisms, and to adhere to the strictest rules of composition, were like Alexandrine money, they were pleasing to the eye and well-formed like the coin, but were nothing the better for that; but those who were not so particular he likened to the Attic tetradrachmas, which were struck at random and without any great nicety, and so he said that their discourses often outweighed the more polished styles of the others. And when Ariston, his disciple, had been holding forth a good deal without much wit, but still in some points with a good deal of readiness and confidence, he said to him, “It would be impossible for you to speak thus, if your father had not been drunk when he begat you;” and for the same reason he nicknamed him the chatterer, as he himself was very concise in his speeches. Once, when he was in company with an epicure who usually left nothing for his messmates, and when a large fish was set before him, he took it all as if he could eat the whole of it; and when the others looked at him with astonishment, he said, “What then do you think that your companions feel every day, if you cannot bear with my gluttony for one day?”

Once he said to a man who was very fond of young boys, “Schoolmasters who are always with boys are no more intelligent than the boys themselves.” He also compared the speeches of men who carefully avoided grammatical errors and followed the strictest rules of composition to Alexandrine coins. The speeches, like the coins, were pleasing to the eye and well made, but were no better for it. He compared less particular speakers to Attic tetradrachmas, coins struck at random and without much care. He said their speeches often outweighed the more polished speeches of the others. Once his disciple Ariston had spoken at length, showing little wit but some quickness and confidence. He said to Ariston, “You could not speak like that if your father had not been drunk when he conceived you.” For the same reason, he nicknamed Ariston the chatterer, since he himself spoke very briefly. Once he was dining with a lover of fine food who usually left nothing for his fellow diners. When a large fish was set before him, he took the whole fish as if he could eat it all. The others looked at him in astonishment. He said, “What do you think your companions feel every day, if you cannot bear my greed for one day?”

On one occasion, when a youth was asking him questions with a pertinacity unsuited to his age, he led him to a looking-glass and bade him look at himself, and then asked him whether such questions appeared suitable to the face he saw there. And when a man said before him once, that in most points he did not agree with the doctrines of Antisthenes, he quoted to him an apophthegm of Sophocles, and asked him whether he thought there was much sense in that, and when he said that he did not know, “Are you not then ashamed,” said he, “to pick out and recollect anything bad which may have been said by Antisthenes, but not to regard or remember whatever is said that is good?” A man once said, that the sayings of the philosophers appeared to him very trivial; “You say true,” replied Zeno, “and their syllables too ought to be short, if that is possible.” When some one spoke to him of Polemo, and said that he proposed one question for discussion and then argued another, he became angry, and said, “At what value did he estimate the subject that had been proposed?” And he said that a man who was to discuss a question ought to have a loud voice and great energy, like the actors, but not to open his mouth too wide, which those who speak a great deal but only talk nonsense usually do. And he used to say that there was no need for those who argued well to leave their hearers room to look about them, as good workmen do who want to have their work seen; but that, on the contrary, those who are listening to them ought to be so attentive to all that is said as to have no leisure to take notes.

Once, a young man kept asking him questions with a persistence unbecoming to someone his age. He led the young man to a mirror and told him to look at himself. Then he asked whether such questions seemed suitable for the face he saw there. Another time, a man said in his presence that he disagreed with Antisthenes’s teachings on most points. He quoted a saying of Sophocles and asked the man whether he thought it made much sense. The man said he did not know. “Aren’t you ashamed,” he replied, “to pick out and remember anything bad Antisthenes may have said, but neither notice nor remember whatever good he said?” A man once said that the philosophers’ sayings seemed very trivial to him. “You’re right,” Zeno replied, “and their syllables should be short too, if possible.” Someone told him that Polemo proposed one question for discussion and then argued another. He became angry and asked, “How much value did he place on the question he had proposed?” He said that someone discussing a question should have a loud voice and great energy, like an actor. But he should not open his mouth too wide, as people usually do when they talk a lot but say only nonsense. He also used to say that good speakers did not need to leave their listeners room to look around, as skilled workers do when they want people to see their work. On the contrary, listeners should pay such close attention to everything said that they have no time to take notes.

Once when a young man was talking a great deal, he said, “Your ears have run down into your tongue.” On one occasion a very handsome man was saying that a wise man did not appear to him likely to fall in love; “Then,” said he, “I cannot imagine anything that will be more miserable than you good-looking fellows.” He also used often to say that most philosophers were wise in great things, but ignorant of petty subjects and chance details; and he used to cite the saying of Caphesius, who, when one of his pupils was labouring hard to be able to blow very powerfully, gave him a slap, and said, that excellence did not depend upon greatness, but greatness on excellence. Once, when a young man was arguing very confidently, he said, “I should not like to say, O youth, all that occurs to me.” And once, when a handsome and wealthy Rhodian, but one who had no other qualification, was pressing him to take him as a pupil, he, as he was not inclined to receive him, first of all made him sit on the dusty seats that he might dirt his cloak, then he put him down in the place of the poor that he might rub against their rags, and at last the young man went away. One of his sayings used to be, that vanity was the most unbecoming of all things, and especially so in the young. Another was, that one ought not to try and recollect the exact words and expressions of a discourse, but to fix all one’s attention on the arrangement of the arguments, instead of treating it as if it were a piece of boiled meat, or some delicate eatable. He used also to say that young men ought to maintain the most scrupulous reserve in their walking, their gait, and their dress; and he was constantly quoting the lines of Euripides on Capaneus, that—

Once, when a young man was talking too much, he said, “Your ears have slipped down into your tongue.” On another occasion, a very handsome man said he thought a wise man was unlikely to fall in love. “Then,” he said, “I cannot imagine anyone more miserable than you good-looking fellows.” He often said that most philosophers were wise about great matters but ignorant of small things and chance details. He used to quote Caphesius, whose pupil was working hard to blow with great force. Caphesius slapped him and said that excellence did not depend on greatness, but greatness on excellence. Once, when a young man was arguing very confidently, he said, “Young man, I would rather not say everything that comes to mind.” Once, a handsome and wealthy Rhodian pressed him to take him as a pupil. The young man had no other qualifications, and he was unwilling to accept him. First, he made the young man sit on dusty seats so that his cloak would get dirty. Then he put him among the poor so that he would brush against their rags. At last, the young man went away. He used to say that vanity was the most unbecoming of all things, especially in the young. He also said that people should not try to remember the exact words and phrases of a speech. Instead, they should focus all their attention on how its arguments are arranged. They should not treat a speech as if it were boiled meat or some other delicacy. He also said that young men should be extremely modest in how they walked, carried themselves, and dressed. He constantly quoted Euripides’ lines about Capaneus:

His wealth was ample. But yet no pride did mingle with his state, Nor had he haughty thought, or arrogance More than the poorest man.

He was very wealthy. But his wealth did not make him proud. He was no more proud or arrogant Than the poorest man.

And one of his sayings used to be, that nothing was more unfriendly to the comprehension of the accurate sciences than poetry; and that there was nothing that we stood in so much need of as time. When he was asked what a friend was, he replied, “Another I.” They say that he was once scourging a slave whom he had detected in theft; and when he said to him, “It was fated that I should steal;” he rejoined, “Yes, and that you should be beaten.” He used to call beauty the flower of the voice; but some report this as if he had said that the voice is the flower of beauty. On one occasion, when he saw a slave belonging to one of his friends severely bruised, he said to his friend, “I see the footsteps of your anger.” He once accosted a man who was all over unguents and perfumes, “Who is this who smells like a woman?” When Dionysius Metathemenus asked him why he was the only person whom he did not correct, he replied, “Because I have no confidence in you.” A young man was talking a great deal of nonsense, and he said to him, “This is the reason why we have two ears and only one mouth, that we may hear more and speak less.”

He used to say that nothing was more hostile to understanding the exact sciences than poetry. He also said that nothing was more needed than time. When asked what a friend was, he replied, “Another self.” They say he once caught a slave stealing and was whipping him. The slave said, “It was fated that I should steal.” He replied, “Yes, and that you should be beaten.” He used to call beauty the flower of the voice. But some report that he said the voice is the flower of beauty. Once, he saw that a slave belonging to one of his friends was badly bruised. He said to his friend, “I see the marks of your anger.” He once addressed a man covered in ointments and perfumes: “Who is this who smells like a woman?” When Dionysius Metathemenus asked why he was the only person he did not correct, he replied, “Because I have no confidence in you.” A young man was talking a great deal of nonsense, and he said to him, “This is why we have two ears and only one mouth, so that we may hear more and speak less.”

Once, when he was at an entertainment and remained wholly silent, he was asked what the reason was; and so he bade the person who found fault with him tell the king that there was a man in the room who knew how to hold his tongue; now the people who asked him this were ambassadors who had come from Ptolemy, and who wished to know what report they were to make of him to the king. He was once asked how he felt when people abused him, and he said, “As an ambassador feels when he is sent away without an answer.” Apollonius of Tyre tells us, that when Crates dragged him by the cloak away from Stilpo, he said, “O Crates, the proper way to take hold of philosophers is by the ears; so now do you convince me and drag me by them; but if you use force towards me, my body may be with you, but my mind with Stilpo.”

Once, at a gathering, he remained completely silent. When someone asked why, he told his critic to tell the king that a man in the room knew how to hold his tongue. The people who questioned him were ambassadors from Ptolemy. They wanted to know what report to give the king about him. Once, he was asked how he felt when people insulted him. He said, “Like an ambassador who is sent away without an answer.” Apollonius of Tyre tells us that Crates once took him by the cloak and dragged him away from Stilpo. He said, “Crates, the proper way to take hold of philosophers is by the ears. So convince me and drag me by them. But if you use force against me, my body may be with you, but my mind with Stilpo.”

XX. He used to devote a good deal of time to Diodorus, as we learn from Hippobotus; and he studied dialectics under him. And when he had made a good deal of progress he attached himself to Polemo because of his freedom from arrogance, so that it is reported that he said to him, “I am not ignorant, O Zeno, that you slip into the garden-door and steal my doctrines, and then clothe them in a Phœnician dress.” When a dialectician once showed him seven species of dialectic argument in the mowing argument, he asked him how much he charged for them, and when he said “A hundred drachmas,” he gave him two hundred, so exceedingly devoted was he to learning.

XX. According to Hippobotus, he spent a great deal of time with Diodorus and studied dialectics under him. After making considerable progress, he became a follower of Polemo because Polemo was free from arrogance. Polemo is reported to have said to him, “I know, Zeno, that you slip in through the garden door and steal my doctrines, then dress them up in a Phœnician style.” Once, a dialectician showed him seven kinds of dialectical argument in the mowing argument. He asked how much the dialectician charged for them. The dialectician said, “A hundred drachmas,” and he gave him two hundred. He was that devoted to learning.

The Greek is ἐν τῷ θερίζοντι λόγῳ. This kind of argument was so called because whoever used it mowed down or knocked down his adversaries. Aldob.

XXI. They say too, that he was the first who ever employed the word duty (καθῆκον), and who wrote a treatise on the subject. And that he altered the lines of Hesiod thus:—

XXI. They also say that he was the first to use the word duty (καθῆκον) and to write a treatise on it. They say that he changed Hesiod's lines as follows:

He is the best of all men who submits To follow good advice; he too is good, Who of himself perceives whate’er is fit.

The best of all men is the one who is willing To follow good advice. He is also good Who knows for himself what is right.

The Greek in the text is:

For he said that that man who had the capacity to give a proper hearing to what was said, and to avail himself of it, was superior to him who comprehended everything by his own intellect; for that the one had only comprehension, but the one who took good advice had action also.

He said that a man who could listen carefully to what was said and put it to use was superior to a man who understood everything through his own intellect. The latter had only understanding, while the man who took good advice also acted on it.

XXII. When he was asked why he, who was generally austere, relaxed at a dinner party, he said, “Lupins too are bitter, but when they are soaked they become sweet.” And Hecaton, in the second book of his Apophthegms, says, that in entertainments of that kind, he used to indulge himself freely. And he used to say that it was better to trip with the feet, than with the tongue. And that goodness was attained by little and little, but was not itself a small thing. Some authors, however, attribute this saying to Socrates.

XXII. He was asked why he relaxed at dinner parties, though he was usually austere. He replied, “Lupins are bitter too, but they become sweet when soaked.” In the second book of his Apophthegms, Hecaton says that he used to indulge himself freely at such gatherings. He also used to say that it was better to trip with your feet than with your tongue. He said that goodness was achieved little by little, but was not itself a small thing. Some authors, however, attribute this last saying to Socrates.

XXIII. He was a person of great powers of abstinence and endurance; and of very simple habits, living on food which required no fire to dress it, and wearing a thin cloak, so that it was said of him:—

XXIII. He had great self-control and endurance, and his habits were very simple. He ate food that needed no cooking and wore a thin cloak. So it was said of him:

The cold of winter, and the ceaseless rain, Come powerless against him; weak is the dart Of the fierce summer sun, or fell disease, To bend that iron frame. He stands apart, In nought resembling the vast common crowd; But, patient and unwearied, night and day, Clings to his studies and philosophy.

Winter’s cold and the endless rain Have no power over him. The fierce summer sun And deadly disease cannot bend His iron frame. He stands apart, Nothing like the great mass of people. Patient and tireless, night and day, He devotes himself to his studies and philosophy.

XXIV. And the comic poets, without intending it, praise him in their very attempts to turn him into ridicule. Philemon speaks thus of him in his play entitled the Philosophers:—

XXIV. Even the comic poets praise him without meaning to when they try to make fun of him. Philemon says the following about him in his play The Philosophers:

This man adopts a new philosophy, He teaches to be hungry; nevertheless, He gets disciples. Bread his only food, His best desert dried figs; water his drink.

This man follows a new philosophy. He teaches people to be hungry, yet He attracts followers. Bread is his only food, Dried figs his finest dessert, and water his drink.

But some attribute these lines to Posidippus. And they have become almost a proverb. Accordingly it used to be said of him, “More temperate than Zeno the philosopher.” Posidippus also writes thus in his Men Transported:—

But some attribute these lines to Posidippus. The lines have become almost a proverb. Accordingly, people used to say of him, “More temperate than Zeno the philosopher.” Posidippus also writes in his Men Transported:

So that for ten whole days he did appear More temperate than Zeno’s self.

So for ten whole days he seemed More self-controlled than Zeno himself.

XXV. For in reality he did surpass all men in this description of virtue, and in dignity of demeanour, and, by Jove, in happiness. For he lived ninety-eight years, and then died, without any disease, and continuing in good health to the last. But Persæus, in his Ethical School, states that he died at the age of seventy-two, and that he came to Athens when he was twenty-two years old. But Apollonius says that he presided over his school for forty-eight years.

XXV. In fact, he surpassed all men in this kind of virtue, in dignity of manner, and, by Jove, in happiness. He lived to be ninety-eight and died without disease, remaining healthy to the end. But Persæus, in his Ethical School, says that he died at seventy-two and came to Athens at twenty-two. Apollonius, however, says that he led his school for forty-eight years.

XXVI. And he died in the following manner. When he was going out of his school, he tripped, and broke one of his toes; and striking the ground with his hand, he repeated the line out of the Niobe:—

XXVI. He died in the following way. As he was leaving his school, he tripped and broke one of his toes. He struck the ground with his hand and repeated a line from Niobe:

I come: why call me so?

I'm coming. Why are you calling me like that?

And immediately he strangled himself, and so he died. But the Athenians buried him in the Ceramicus, and honoured him with the decrees which I have mentioned before, bearing witness to his virtue. And Antipater, the Sidonian, wrote an inscription for him, which runs thus:—

He immediately strangled himself and died. But the Athenians buried him in the Ceramicus and honored him with the decrees I mentioned earlier. These decrees bore witness to his virtue. Antipater, the Sidonian, wrote an inscription for him, which reads:

Here Cittium’s pride, wise Zeno, lies, who climb’d The summits of Olympus; but unmoved By wicked thoughts ne’er strove to raise on Ossa The pine-clad Pelion; nor did he emulate Th’ immortal toils of Hercules; but found A new way for himself to th’ highest heaven, By virtue, temperance, and modesty.

Here lies wise Zeno, Cittium’s pride, who climbed to the heights of Olympus. But he was untouched by wicked thoughts and never tried to pile pine-covered Pelion on Ossa. Nor did he imitate the deathless labors of Hercules. Instead, he found his own new way to the highest heaven, through virtue, self-control, and modesty.

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

And Zenodotus the Stoic, a student of Diogenes, wrote another:

You made contentment the chief rule of life, Despising haughty wealth, O God-like Zeno. With solemn look, and hoary brow serene, You taught a manly doctrine; and didst found By your deep wisdom, a great novel school, Chaste parent of unfearing liberty. And if your country was Phœnicia, Why need we grieve, from that land Cadmus came, Who gave to Greece her written books of wisdom.

You made contentment the guiding rule of life, And scorned the arrogance of wealth, godlike Zeno. With a serious face and a calm, gray-haired brow, You taught a courageous doctrine and founded Through your deep wisdom a great new school, The pure parent of fearless freedom. And if your homeland was Phœnicia, Why should we grieve? Cadmus came from that land. He gave Greece its written books of wisdom.

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

And Athenæus, the epigrammatic poet, says this about all the Stoics:

O, ye who’ve learnt the doctrines of the Porch, And have committed to your books divine The best of human learning; teaching men That the mind’s virtue is the only good. And she it is who keeps the lives of men, And cities, safer than high gates or walls. But those who place their happiness in pleasure, Are led by the least worthy of the Muses.

You who have learned the teachings of the Porch, And have recorded in your divine books The best of human knowledge, teaching people That virtue of mind is the only good. Virtue keeps human lives And cities safer than high gates or walls. But those who find their happiness in pleasure Are guided by the least worthy of the Muses.

And we also have ourselves spoken of the manner of Zeno’s death, in our collection of poems in all metres, in the following terms:—

I too wrote about how Zeno died in my collection of poems in all meters, in the following words:

Some say that Zeno, pride of Cittium, Died of old age, when weak and quite worn out; Some say that famine’s cruel tooth did slay him; Some that he fell, and striking hard the ground, Said, “See, I come, why call me thus impatiently?”

Some say that Zeno, the pride of Cittium, Died of old age, weak and completely worn out. Some say that cruel hunger killed him. Some say that he fell, hit the ground hard, And said, “See, I’m coming. Why call me so impatiently?”

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

For some say he died this way. That is enough about his death.

XXVII. But Demetrius, the Magnesian, says, in his essay on People of the Same Name, that his father Mnaseas often came to Athens, as he was a merchant, and that he used to bring back many of the books of the Socratic philosophers, to Zeno, while he was still only a boy; and that, from this circumstance, Zeno had already become talked of in his own country; and that in consequence of this he went to Athens, where he attached himself to Crates. And it seems, he adds, that it was he who first recommended a clear enunciation of principles, as the best remedy for error. He is said, too, to have been in the habit of swearing “By Capers,” as Socrates swore “By the Dog.”

XXVII. But Demetrius of Magnesia gives another account in his essay on People of the Same Name. He says that Zeno’s father, Mnaseas, was a merchant who often visited Athens. While Zeno was still a boy, Mnaseas brought him many books by the Socratic philosophers. As a result, Zeno had already become known in his own country. He then went to Athens, where he became a follower of Crates. Demetrius adds that Zeno seems to have been the first to recommend stating principles clearly as the best remedy for error. Zeno is also said to have sworn “By Capers,” just as Socrates swore “By the Dog.”

XXVIII. Some, indeed, among whom is Cassius the Sceptic, attack Zeno on many accounts, saying first of all that he denounced the general system of education in vogue at the time, as useless, which he did in the beginning of his Republic. And in the second place, that he used to call all who were not virtuous, adversaries, and enemies, and slaves, and unfriendly to one another, parents to their children, brethren to brethren, and kinsmen to kinsmen; and again, that in his Republic, he speaks of the virtuous as the only citizens, and friends, and relations, and free men, so that in the doctrine of the Stoic, even parents and their children are enemies; for they are not wise. Also, that he lays down the principle of the community of women both in his Republic and in a poem of two hundred verses, and teaches that neither temples nor courts of law, nor gymnasia, ought to be erected in a city; moreover, that he writes thus about money, “That he does not think that men ought to coin money either for purposes of traffic, or of travelling.” Besides all this, he enjoins men and women to wear the same dress, and to leave no part of their person uncovered.

XXVIII. Some people, including Cassius the Sceptic, criticize Zeno on many grounds. First, they say that at the beginning of his Republic he condemned the common system of education as useless. Second, they say that he called all who were not virtuous adversaries, enemies, slaves, and hostile to one another. This included parents and children, brothers, and other relatives. They also say that in his Republic he describes the virtuous as the only citizens, friends, relatives, and free people. Thus, in the Stoic’s doctrine, even parents and their children are enemies, because they are not wise. They also say that Zeno advocates the sharing of women in both his Republic and a poem of two hundred verses. He teaches that cities should have no temples, courts of law, or gymnasia. He also writes about money: “He does not think that people should coin money for trade or travel.” Besides all this, he instructs men and women to wear the same clothing and to leave no part of their bodies uncovered.

XXIX. And that this treatise on the Republic is his work we are assured by Chrysippus, in his Republic. He also discussed amatory subjects in the beginning of that book of his which is entitled the Art of Love. And in his Conversations he writes in a similar manner.

XXIX. Chrysippus assures us in his Republic that this treatise on the Republic is his work. He also discussed love at the beginning of his book entitled the Art of Love. And he writes in a similar way in his Conversations.

Such are the charges made against him by Cassius, and also by Isidorus, of Pergamus, the orator, who says that all the unbecoming doctrines and assertions of the Stoics were cut out of their books by Athenodorus, the Stoic, who was the curator of the library at Pergamus. And that subsequently they were replaced, as Athenodorus was detected, and placed in a situation of great danger; and this is sufficient to say about those doctrines of his which were impugned.

These are the charges made against him by Cassius and by Isidorus, the orator from Pergamus. Isidorus says that Athenodorus, the Stoic, cut all the improper Stoic doctrines and assertions out of their books. Athenodorus was the curator of the library at Pergamus. The passages were later restored after Athenodorus was discovered and found himself in great danger. That is enough about the doctrines of his that were criticized.

XXX. There were eight different persons of the name of Zeno. The first was the Eleatic, whom we shall mention hereafter; the second was this man of whom we are now speaking; the third was a Rhodian, who wrote a history of his country in one book; the fourth was a historian who wrote an account of the expedition of Pyrrhus into Italy and Sicily; and also an epitome of the transactions between the Romans and Carthaginians; the fifth was a disciple of Chrysippus, who wrote very few books, but who left a great number of disciples; the sixth was a physician of Herophila, a very shrewd man in intellect, but a very indifferent writer; the seventh was a grammarian, who, besides other writings, has left some epigrams behind him; the eighth was a Sidonian by descent, a philosopher of the Epicurean school, a deep thinker, and very clear writer.

XXX. There were eight different people named Zeno. The first was Zeno of Elea, whom we will discuss later. The second was the man we are discussing now. The third was a Rhodian who wrote a one-book history of his country. The fourth was a historian who wrote about Pyrrhus’s expedition into Italy and Sicily. He also wrote a summary of events between the Romans and the Carthaginians. The fifth was a disciple of Chrysippus. He wrote very few books, but left a great many disciples. The sixth was a physician of Herophila, a very sharp thinker but a rather poor writer. The seventh was a grammarian who left some epigrams, as well as other writings. The eighth was a philosopher of the Epicurean school, born in Sidon. He was a deep thinker and a very clear writer.

XXXI. The disciples of Zeno were very numerous. The most eminent were, first of all, Persæus, of Cittium, the son of Demetrius, whom some call a friend of his, but others describe him as a servant and one of the amanuenses who were sent to him by Antigonus, to whose son, Halcyoneus, he also acted as tutor. And Antigonus once, wishing to make trial of him, caused some false news to be brought to him that his estate had been ravaged by the enemy; and as he began to look gloomy at this news, he said to him, “You see that wealth is not a matter of indifference.”

XXXI. Zeno had many disciples. The most eminent was Persæus of Cittium, the son of Demetrius. Some call Persæus a friend of Zeno. Others describe him as a servant and one of the scribes Antigonus sent to Zeno. Persæus also tutored Antigonus’s son, Halcyoneus. Once, Antigonus wanted to test Persæus. He had someone bring him false news that the enemy had ravaged his estate. When Persæus began to look gloomy, Antigonus said to him, “You see that wealth is not a matter of indifference.”

The following works are attributed to him. One on Kingly Power; one entitled the Constitution of the Lacedæmonians; one on Marriage; one on Impiety; the Thyestes; an Essay on Love; a volume of Exhortations; one of Conversations; four of Apophthegms; one of Reminiscences; seven treatises, the Laws of Plato.

The following works are attributed to him: one on royal power, one titled The Constitution of the Lacedæmonians, one on marriage, one on impiety, Thyestes, an essay on love, a volume of exhortations, one of conversations, four of sayings, one of reminiscences, and seven treatises on the Laws of Plato.

The next was Ariston, of Chios, the son of Miltiades, who was the first author of the doctrine of indifference; then Herillus, who called knowledge the chief good; then Dionysius, who transferred this description to pleasure; as, on account of the violent disease which he had in his eyes, he could not yet bring himself to call pain a thing indifferent. He was a native of Heraclea; there was also Sphærus, of the Bosphorus; and Cleanthes, of Assos, the son of Phanias, who succeeded him in his school, and whom he used to liken to tablets of hard wax, which are written upon with difficulty, but which retain what is written upon them. And after Zeno’s death, Sphærus became a pupil of Cleanthes. And we shall speak of him in our account of Cleanthes.

Next was Ariston of Chios, the son of Miltiades, who first taught the doctrine of indifference. Then came Herillus, who called knowledge the highest good. Dionysius called pleasure the highest good instead. Because he suffered from a severe eye disease, he could not bring himself to call pain indifferent. He was from Heraclea. There was also Sphærus of the Bosphorus, and Cleanthes of Assos, the son of Phanias, who succeeded Zeno as head of his school. Zeno used to compare Cleanthes to tablets of hard wax, which are difficult to write on but retain what is written on them. After Zeno’s death, Sphærus became a pupil of Cleanthes. We shall speak of Sphærus in our account of Cleanthes.

These also were all disciples of Zeno, as we are told by Hippobotus, namely:—Philonides, of Thebes; Callippus, of Corinth; Posidonius, of Alexandria; Athenodorus, of Soli; and Zeno, a Sidonian.

Hippobotus tells us that the following were also all disciples of Zeno: Philonides of Thebes, Callippus of Corinth, Posidonius of Alexandria, Athenodorus of Soli, and Zeno of Sidon.

XXXII. And I have thought it best to give a general account of all the Stoic doctrines in the life of Zeno, because he it was who was the founder of the sect.

XXXII. I have decided to give a general account of all Stoic doctrines in the life of Zeno, because he founded the school.

He has written a great many books, of which I have already given a list, in which he has spoken as no other of the Stoics has. And his doctrines in general are these. But we will enumerate them briefly, as we have been in the habit of doing in the case of the other philosophers.

He wrote many books, which I have already listed. In them, he spoke as no other Stoic did. His teachings, in general, are as follows. But we will summarize them briefly, as we have done for the other philosophers.

XXXIII. The Stoics divide reason according to philosophy, into three parts; and say that one part relates to natural philosophy, one to ethics, and one to logic. And Zeno, the Cittiæan, was the first who made this division, in his treatise on Reason; and he was followed in it by Chrysippus, in the first book of his treatise on Reason, and in the first book of his treatise on Natural Philosophy; and also by Apollodorus; and by Syllus, in the first book of his Introduction to the Doctrines of the Stoics; and by Eudromus, in his Ethical Elements; and by Diogenes, the Babylonian; and Posidonius. Now these divisions are called topics by Apollodorus, species by Chrysippus and Eudromus, and genera by all the rest. And they compare philosophy to an animal, likening logic to the bones and sinews, natural philosophy to the fleshy parts, and ethical philosophy to the soul. Again, they compare it to an egg; calling logic the shell, and ethics the white, and natural philosophy the yolk. Also to a fertile field; in which logic is the fence which goes round it, ethics are the fruit, and natural philosophy the soil, or the fruit-trees. Again, they compare it to a city fortified by walls, and regulated by reason; and then, as some of them say, no one part is preferred to another, but they are all combined and united inseparably; and so they treat of them all in combination. But others class logic first, natural philosophy second, and ethics third; as Zeno does in his treatise on Reason, and in this he is followed by Chrysippus, and Archedemus, and Eudromus.

XXXIII. The Stoics divide philosophical reasoning into three parts: natural philosophy, ethics, and logic. Zeno of Cittiæ was the first to make this division, in his treatise on Reason. Chrysippus followed him in the first book of his treatise on Reason and the first book of his treatise on Natural Philosophy. So did Apollodorus, Syllus in the first book of his Introduction to the Doctrines of the Stoics, and Eudromus in his Ethical Elements. Diogenes the Babylonian and Posidonius also followed this division. Apollodorus calls these divisions topics, Chrysippus and Eudromus call them species, and all the others call them genera. The Stoics compare philosophy to an animal. They liken logic to the bones and sinews, natural philosophy to the flesh, and ethics to the soul. They also compare philosophy to an egg. In this comparison, logic is the shell, ethics the white, and natural philosophy the yolk. They compare philosophy to a fertile field as well. Logic is the fence around it, ethics the fruit, and natural philosophy the soil or the fruit trees. They also compare philosophy to a city fortified by walls and governed by reason. Some Stoics say that no part of philosophy takes precedence over another. Instead, all the parts are combined and inseparably united, so these Stoics discuss them together. Others place logic first, natural philosophy second, and ethics third. Zeno does this in his treatise on Reason, and Chrysippus, Archedemus, and Eudromus follow him.

For Diogenes of Ptolemais begins with ethics; but Apollodorus places ethics second; and Panætius and Posidonius begin with natural philosophy, as Phanias, the friend of Posidonius asserts, in the first book of his treatise on the School of Posidonius.

Diogenes of Ptolemais begins with ethics, but Apollodorus puts ethics second. Panætius and Posidonius begin with natural philosophy. So says Phanias, a friend of Posidonius, in the first book of his treatise on the School of Posidonius.

But Cleanthes says, that there are six divisions of reason according to philosophy: dialectics, rhetoric, ethics, politics, physics, and theology; but others assert that these are not divisions of reason, but of philosophy itself; and this is the opinion advanced by Zeno, of Tarsus, among others.

But Cleanthes says that reason has six divisions in philosophy: dialectics, rhetoric, ethics, politics, physics, and theology. Others, however, say that these are divisions of philosophy itself, not of reason. Zeno of Tarsus is among those who hold this view.

XXXIV. Some again say, that the logical division is properly subdivided into two sciences, namely, rhetoric and dialectics; and some divide it also into definitive species, which is conversant with rules and tests; while others deny the propriety of this last division altogether, and argue that the object of rules and tests is the discovery of the truth; for it is in this division that they explain the differences of representations. They also argue that, on the other side, the science of definitions has equally for its object the discovery of truth, since we only know things by the intervention of ideas. They also call rhetoric a science conversant about speaking well concerning matters which admit of a detailed narrative; and dialectics they call the science of arguing correctly in discussions which can be carried on by question and answer; on which account they define it thus: a knowledge of what is true, and false, and neither one thing nor the other.

XXXIV. Some say that logic should be divided into two sciences, rhetoric and dialectics. Some also divide it into a branch concerned with rules and tests. Others reject this last division altogether. They argue that rules and tests aim to discover the truth, since this branch explains the differences between representations. They also argue that the science of definitions aims to discover the truth, since we know things only through ideas. They call rhetoric the science of speaking well about matters that can be described in detail. They call dialectics the science of arguing correctly in discussions conducted through questions and answers. Accordingly, they define dialectics as knowledge of what is true, what is false, and what is neither.

Again, rhetoric itself they divide into three kinds; for one description they say is concerning about giving advice, another is forensic, and the third encomiastic; and it is also divided into several parts, one relating to the discovery of arguments, one to style, one to the arrangement of arguments, and the other to the delivery of the speech. And a rhetorical oration they divide into the exordium, the narration, the reply to the statements of the adverse party, and the peroration.

They also divide rhetoric into three kinds: advice, courtroom argument, and praise. They further divide rhetoric into several parts: finding arguments, style, arranging arguments, and delivering the speech. They divide a rhetorical speech into the introduction, the statement of facts, the reply to the opposing party, and the conclusion.

XXXV. Dialectics, they say, is divided into two parts; one of which has reference to the things signified, the other to the expression. That which has reference to the things signified or spoken of, they divide again into the topic of things conceived in the fancy, and into those of axioms, of perfect determinations, of predicaments, of things alike, whether upright or prostrate, of tropes, of syllogisms, and of sophisms, which are derived either from the voice or from the things. And these sophisms are of various kinds; there is the false one, the one which states facts, the negative, the sorites, and others like these; the imperfect one, the inexplicable one, the conclusive one, the veiled one, the horned one, the nobody, and the mower.

XXXV. They say dialectics has two parts. One concerns what is signified, and the other concerns how it is expressed. They further divide the study of what is signified or spoken of into several topics. These include things conceived in the imagination, axioms, perfect determinations, predicaments, and things alike, whether upright or prostrate. They also include tropes, syllogisms, and sophisms derived from either words or things. These sophisms take various forms. They include the false one, the one that states facts, the negative, the sorites, and others like these. They also include the imperfect, the inexplicable, the conclusive, the veiled, the horned, the nobody, and the mower.

In the second part of dialectics, that which has for its object the expression, they treat of written language, of the different parts of a discourse, of solecism and barbarism, of poetical forms of expression, of ambiguity, of a melodious voice, of music; and some even add definitions, divisions, and diction.

The second part of dialectics deals with expression. It covers written language, the parts of a discourse, errors in grammar and word usage, poetic expressions, ambiguity, a melodious voice, and music. Some also include definitions, divisions, and diction.

They say that the most useful of these parts is the consideration of syllogisms; for that they show us what are the things which are capable of demonstration, and that contributes much to the formation of our judgment, and their arrangement and memory give a scientific character to our knowledge. They define reasoning to be a system composed of assumptions and conclusions: and syllogism is a syllogistic argument proceeding on them. Demonstration they define to be a method by which one proceeds from that which is more known to that which is less. Perception, again, is an impression produced on the mind, its name being appropriately borrowed from impressions on wax made by a seal; and perception they divide into comprehensible and incomprehensible: Comprehensible, which they call the criterion of facts, and which is produced by a real object, and is, therefore, at the same time conformable to that object; Incomprehensible, which has no relation to any real object, or else, if it has any such relation, does not correspond to it, being but a vague and indistinct representation.

They say that the most useful of these parts is the study of syllogisms. Syllogisms show us what can be demonstrated, and this helps greatly in forming our judgment. Arranging and remembering syllogisms also gives our knowledge a scientific character. They define reasoning as a system made up of assumptions and conclusions. A syllogism is a syllogistic argument that proceeds from these assumptions to these conclusions. They define demonstration as a method of proceeding from what is better known to what is less known. Perception, they say, is an impression made on the mind. The name is fittingly borrowed from the impression a seal makes on wax. They divide perceptions into comprehensible and incomprehensible ones. A comprehensible perception, which they call the criterion of facts, is produced by a real object and therefore corresponds to it. An incomprehensible perception has no relation to a real object. Or, if it does relate to a real object, it does not correspond to it. It is only a vague and indistinct representation.

Dialectics itself they pronounce to be a necessary science, and a virtue which comprehends several other virtues under its species. And the disposition not to take up one side of an argument hastily, they defined to be a knowledge by which we are taught when we ought to agree to a statement, and when we ought to withhold our agreement. Discretion they consider to be a powerful reason, having reference to what is becoming, so as to prevent our yielding to an irrelevant argument. Irrefutability they define to be a power in an argument, which prevents one from being drawn from it to its opposite. Freedom from vanity, according to them, is a habit which refers the perceptions back to right reason.

They say that dialectic itself is a necessary science and a virtue that includes several other virtues. They define the habit of not hastily taking sides in an argument as knowing when to agree with a statement and when to withhold agreement. They regard discretion as a strong power of reason concerned with what is appropriate, which prevents us from giving in to an irrelevant argument. They define irrefutability as a strength in an argument that prevents a person from being drawn from that argument to its opposite. Freedom from vanity, they say, is the habit of judging perceptions by right reason.

Again, they define knowledge itself as an assertion or safe comprehension, or habit, which, in the perception of what is seen, never deviates from the truth. And they say further, that without dialectic speculation, the wise man cannot be free from all error in his reasoning. For that that is what distinguishes what is true from what is false, and which easily detects those arguments which are only plausible, and those which depend upon an ambiguity of language. And without dialectics they say it is not possible to ask or answer questions correctly. They also add, that precipitation in denials extends to those things which are done, so that those who have not properly exercised their perceptions fall into irregularity and thoughtlessness. Again, without dialectics, the wise man cannot be acute, and ingenious, and wary, and altogether dangerous as an arguer. For that it belongs to the same man to speak correctly and to reason correctly, and to discuss properly those subjects which are proposed to him, and to answer readily whatever questions are put to him, all which qualities belong to a man who is skilful in dialectics. This then is a brief summary of their opinions on logic.

They also define knowledge itself as an assertion, a secure grasp, or a habit that never departs from the truth in perceiving what is seen. They further say that without dialectical study, the wise person cannot be entirely free from errors in reasoning. Dialectic distinguishes truth from falsehood. It also easily detects arguments that are merely plausible or depend on ambiguous language. They say that without dialectic, it is impossible to ask or answer questions correctly. They add that hasty denials affect actions too. As a result, those who have not properly trained their perceptions fall into disorder and thoughtlessness. They also say that without dialectic, the wise person cannot be sharp, resourceful, cautious, and altogether formidable in argument. For the same person can speak correctly, reason correctly, and discuss the subjects put before them properly. That person can also readily answer any questions put to them. All these qualities belong to someone skilled in dialectic. This, then, is a brief summary of their views on logic.

XXXVI. And, that we may also enter into some more minute details respecting them, we will subjoin what refers to what they call their introductory science, as it is stated by Diocles, of Magnesia, in his Excursion of Philosophers, where he speaks as follows, and we will give his account word for word.

XXXVI. To give some further details about them, I will add an account of what they call their introductory science. It comes from Diocles of Magnesia’s Excursion of Philosophers, and I will quote it word for word.

The Stoics have chosen to treat, in the first place, of perception and sensation, because the criterion by which the truth of facts is ascertained is a kind of perception, and because the judgment which expresses the belief, and the comprehension, and the understanding of a thing, a judgment which precedes all others, cannot exist without perception. For perception leads the way; and then thought, finding vent in expressions, explains in words the feelings which it derives from perception. But there is a difference between φαντασία and φάντασμα. For φάντασμα is a conception of the intellect, such as takes place in sleep; but φαντασία is an impression, τύπωσις, produced on the mind, that is to say, an alteration, ἀλλοίωσις, as Chrysippus states in the twelfth book of his treatise on the Soul. For we must not take this impression to resemble that made by a seal, since it is impossible to conceive that there should be many impressions made at the same time on the same thing. But φαντασία is understood to be that which is impressed, and formed, and imprinted by a real object, according to a real object, in such a way as it could not be by any other than a real object; and, according to their ideas of the φαντασίαι, some are sensible, and some are not. Those they call sensible, which are derived by us from some one or more senses; and those they call not sensible, which emanate directly from the thought, as for instance, those which relate to incorporeal objects, or any others which are embraced by reason. Again, those which are sensible, are produced by a real object, which imposes itself on the intelligence, and compels its acquiescence; and there are also some others, which are simply apparent, mere shadows, which resemble those which are produced by real objects.

The Stoics begin with perception and sensation because the standard for establishing the truth of facts is a kind of perception. Also, the judgment that expresses belief, comprehension, and understanding cannot exist without perception. This judgment comes before all others. Perception comes first. Then thought finds expression in words and explains the feelings it receives through perception. But there is a difference between φαντασία and φάντασμα. A φάντασμα is a conception of the mind, such as one experiences in sleep. A φαντασία is an impression, τύπωσις, made on the mind. In other words, it is an alteration, ἀλλοίωσις, as Chrysippus says in the twelfth book of his treatise on the Soul. We must not think of this impression as resembling one made by a seal. For we cannot conceive of many such impressions being made on the same thing at the same time. A φαντασία is understood as an impression made and shaped by a real object, in accordance with that object. It is made in a way that only a real object could produce. According to the Stoics, some φαντασίαι come through the senses, and some do not. Those that do come through one or more senses. Those that do not come directly from thought, as with impressions of incorporeal objects or anything else grasped by reason. Again, impressions that come through the senses are produced by a real object. The object presents itself to the mind and compels the mind to accept it. But there are also other impressions that are merely apparent. These are shadows resembling impressions produced by real objects.

Again, these φαντασίαι are divided into rational and irrational; those which are rational belong to animals capable of reason; those which are irrational to animals destitute of reason. Those which are rational are thoughts; those which are irrational have no name; but are again subdivided into artificial and not artificial. At all events, an image is contemplated in a different light by a man skilful in art, from that in which it is viewed by a man ignorant of art.

Again, φαντασίαι are divided into rational and irrational kinds. Rational φαντασίαι belong to animals capable of reason. Irrational φαντασίαι belong to animals without reason. Rational φαντασίαι are thoughts. Irrational φαντασίαι have no name, but are further divided into those involving art and those that do not. In any case, a person skilled in an art views an image differently from someone ignorant of it.

By sensation, the Stoics understand a species of breath which proceeds from the dominant portion of the soul to the senses, whether it be a sensible perception, or an organic disposition, which, according to the notions of some of them, is crippled and vicious. They also call sensation the energy, or active exercise, of the sense. According to them, it is to sensation that we owe our comprehension of white and black, and rough and smooth: from reason, that we derive the notions which result from a demonstration, those for instance which have for their object the existence of Gods, and of Divine Providence. For all our thoughts are formed either by indirect perception, or by similarity, or analogy, or transposition, or combination, or opposition. By a direct perception, we perceive those things which are the objects of sense; by similarity, those which start from some point present to our senses; as, for instance, we form an idea of Socrates from his likeness. We draw our conclusions by analogy, adopting either an increased idea of the thing, as of Tityus, or the Cyclops; or a diminished idea, as of a pigmy. So, too, the idea of the centre of the world was one derived by analogy from what we perceived to be the case of the smaller spheres. We use transposition when we fancy eyes in a man’s breast; combination, when we take in the idea of a Centaur; opposition, when we turn our thoughts to death. Some ideas we also derive from comparison, for instance, from a comparison of words and places.

The Stoics understand sensation as a kind of breath that travels from the ruling part of the soul to the senses. Sensation may be a perception through the senses or a condition of the sense organs. Some Stoics consider this condition impaired and defective. They also call the activity or exercise of a sense sensation. According to the Stoics, sensation allows us to understand white and black, and rough and smooth. Reason gives us the ideas that follow from demonstration, such as the existence of Gods and Divine Providence. For all our thoughts are formed through indirect perception, similarity, analogy, transposition, combination, or opposition. Through direct perception, we perceive the objects of our senses. Through similarity, we form ideas based on something present to our senses. For example, we form an idea of Socrates from his likeness. Through analogy, we reach conclusions by imagining something either larger or smaller. We imagine something larger when we think of Tityus or the Cyclops, and smaller when we think of a pigmy. In the same way, we form the idea of the center of the world by analogy with smaller spheres. We use transposition when we imagine eyes in a man’s chest. We use combination when we form the idea of a Centaur. We use opposition when we think of death. We also derive some ideas from comparison, for example, by comparing words and places.

There is also nature; as by nature we comprehend what is just and good. And privation, when for instance, we form a notion of a man without hands. Such are the doctrines of the Stoics, on the subject of phantasia, and sensation, and thought.

There is also nature. Through nature, we understand what is just and good. There is also privation, as when we form an idea of a man without hands. These are the Stoics' teachings on phantasia, sensation, and thought.

XXXVII. They say that the proper criterion of truth is the comprehension, φαντασία; that is to say, one which is derived from a real object, as Chrysippus asserts in the twelfth book of his Physics; and he is followed by Antipater and Apollodorus. For Boethus leaves a great many criteria, such as intellect, sensation, appetite, and knowledge; but Chrysippus dissents from his view, and in the first book of his treatise on Reason, says, that sensation and preconception are the only criteria. And preconception is, according to him, a comprehensive physical notion of general principles. But others of the earlier Stoics admit right reason as one criterion of the truth; for instance, this is the opinion of Posidonius, and is advanced by him in his essay on Criteria.

XXXVII. They say that the proper criterion of truth is comprehension, φαντασία, derived from a real object. Chrysippus makes this claim in the twelfth book of his Physics, and Antipater and Apollodorus follow him. Boethus, however, allows many criteria, including intellect, sensation, appetite, and knowledge. Chrysippus disagrees. In the first book of his treatise on Reason, he says that sensation and preconception are the only criteria. He defines preconception as a comprehensive natural notion of general principles. Other earlier Stoics accept right reason as a criterion of truth. Posidonius, for example, puts forward this view in his essay on Criteria.

XXXVIII. On the subject of logical speculation, there appears to be a great unanimity among the greater part of the Stoics, in beginning with the topic of the voice. Now voice is a percussion of the air; or, as Diogenes, the Babylonian, defines it, in his essay on the Voice, a sensation peculiar to the hearing. The voice of a beast is a mere percussion of the air by some impetus: but the voice of a man is articulate, and is emitted by intellect, as Diogenes lays it down, and is not brought to perfection in a shorter period than fourteen years. And the voice is a body according to the Stoics; for so it is laid down by Archedemus, in his book on the Voice, and by Diogenes, and Antipater, and also by Chrysippus, in the second volume of his Physics. For everything which makes anything, is a body; and the voice makes something when it proceeds to those who hear from those who speak.

XXXVIII. Most Stoics seem to agree that the study of logic should begin with the subject of voice. Voice is a vibration of the air. Or, as Diogenes the Babylonian defines it in his essay on the Voice, it is a sensation peculiar to hearing. An animal's voice is simply a vibration of the air caused by an impulse. But a human voice is articulate and, as Diogenes says, is produced by the intellect. It does not reach its full development in less than fourteen years. According to the Stoics, voice is a body. Archedemus says so in his book on the Voice, as do Diogenes, Antipater, and Chrysippus in the second volume of his Physics. For everything that produces an effect is a body. Voice produces an effect when it travels from speakers to listeners.

A word (λέξις), again, is, according to Diogenes, a voice consisting of letters, as “Day.” A sentence (λόγος) is a significant voice, sent out by the intellect, as for instance, “It is day;” but dialect is a peculiar style imprinted on the utterance of nations, according to their race; and causes varieties in the Greek language, being a sort of local habit, as for instance, the Attics say θάλαττα, and the Ionians say ἡμέρη. The elements of words are the twenty-four letters; and the word letter is used in a triple division of sense, meaning the element itself, the graphical sign of the element, and the name, as Alpha. There are seven vowels, α, ε, η, ι, ο, υ, ω; six mutes, β, γ, δ, κ, π, τ. But voice is different from a word, because voice is a sound; but a word is an articulate sound. And a word differs from a sentence, because a sentence is always significative of something, but a word by itself has no signification, as for instance, βλίτρι. But this is not the case with a sentence. Again, there is a difference between speaking and pronouncing; the sounds are pronounced, but what are spoken are things which are capable of being spoken of.

According to Diogenes, a word (λέξις) is a vocal sound made up of letters, such as “Day.” A sentence (λόγος) is a meaningful vocal expression produced by the mind, such as “It is day.” A dialect is a distinctive way of speaking among nations, according to their race. It produces varieties of Greek as a kind of local habit. For example, the Attics say θάλαττα, and the Ionians say ἡμέρη. The elements of words are the twenty-four letters. The term letter has three meanings: the element itself, its written sign, and its name, such as Alpha. There are seven vowels, α, ε, η, ι, ο, υ, ω, and six mute consonants, β, γ, δ, κ, π, τ. A vocal sound differs from a word because it is a sound, while a word is an articulate sound. A word differs from a sentence because a sentence always means something. A word by itself has no meaning, as in the case of βλίτρι. But that is not true of a sentence. There is also a difference between speaking and pronouncing. We pronounce sounds, but we speak of things that can be spoken of.

XXXIX. Now of sentences there are five parts, as Diogenes tells us in his treatise on Voice; and he is followed by Chrysippus. There is the noun, the common noun, the verb, the conjunction, and the article. Antipater adds also quality, in his treatise upon Words and the things expressed by them. And a common noun (προσηγορία) is, according to Diogenes, a part of a sentence signifying a common quality, as for instance, man, horse. But a noun is a part of a sentence signifying a peculiar quality, such as Diogenes, Socrates. A verb is a part of a sentence signifying an uncombined categorem, as Diogenes (ὁ Διογένης) or, as others define it, an element of a sentence, devoid of case, signifying something compound in reference to some person or persons, as, “I write,” “I say.” A conjunction is a part of a sentence destitute of case, uniting the divisions of the sentence. An article is an element of a sentence, having cases, defining the genders of nouns and their numbers, as ὁ, ἡ, τὸ, οἱ, αἱ, τὰ.

XXXIX. Diogenes says in his treatise On Voice that a sentence has five parts. Chrysippus follows him in this. The parts are the noun, the common noun, the verb, the conjunction, and the article. Antipater adds quality in his treatise On Words and the Things Expressed by Them. According to Diogenes, a common noun (προσηγορία) is a part of a sentence that indicates a common quality, such as man or horse. A noun is a part of a sentence that indicates a particular quality, such as Diogenes or Socrates. A verb is a part of a sentence that indicates an uncombined categorem, as Diogenes (ὁ Διογένης). Others define a verb as an element of a sentence that has no case. It indicates something compound in reference to one or more persons, as in “I write” or “I say.” A conjunction is a part of a sentence that has no case and joins the parts of the sentence. An article is an element of a sentence that has cases and identifies the gender and number of nouns, as in ὁ, ἡ, τὸ, οἱ, αἱ, τὰ.

XL. The excellences of a sentence are five,—good Greek, clearness, conciseness, suitableness, elegance. Good Greek (Ἑλληνισμὸς) is a correct style, according to art, keeping aloof from any vulgar form of expression; clearness is a style which states that which is conceived in the mind in such a way that it is easily known; conciseness is a style which embraces all that is necessary to the clear explanation of the subject under discussion; suitableness is a style suited to the subject; elegance is a style which avoids all peculiarity of expression. Of the vices of a sentence, on the other hand, barbarism is a use of words contrary to that in vogue among the well-educated Greeks; solecism is a sentence incongruously put together.

XL. A sentence has five virtues: good Greek, clarity, conciseness, suitability, and elegance. Good Greek (Ἑλληνισμὸς) is a correct style that follows established rules and avoids vulgar expressions. Clarity is a style that expresses a thought in a way that is easy to understand. Conciseness is a style that includes everything needed to explain the subject clearly. Suitability is a style appropriate to the subject. Elegance is a style that avoids unusual expressions. On the other hand, the faults of a sentence include barbarism and solecism. Barbarism is the use of words contrary to the practice of well-educated Greeks. Solecism is a sentence whose parts do not fit together properly.

XLI. A poetical expression is, as Posidonius defines it in his introduction on Style, “A metrical or rhythmical diction, proceeding in preparation, and avoiding all resemblance to prose.” For instance, “The vast and boundless earth,” “Th’ expanse of heaven,” are rhythmical expressions; and poetry is a collection of poetical expressions signifying something, containing an imitation of divine and human beings.

XLI. In his introduction to Style, Posidonius defines a poetic expression as “metrical or rhythmic language, composed in advance and avoiding all resemblance to prose.” For example, “The vast and boundless earth” and “The expanse of heaven” are rhythmic expressions. Poetry is a collection of meaningful poetic expressions that imitates divine and human beings.

XLII. A definition is, as Antipater explains it in the first book of his treatise on Definitions, a sentence proceeding by analysis enunciated in such a way as to give a complete idea; or, as Chrysippus says in his treatise on Definitions, it is the explanation of an idea. Description is a sentence which, in a figurative manner, brings one to a knowledge of the subject, or it may be called a simpler kind of definition, expressing the power of a definition in plainer language. Genus is a comprehending of many ideas indissolubly connected, as animal; for this one expression comprehends all particular kinds of animals. An idea is an imagination of the mind which does not express actually anything real, or any quality, but only a quasi reality and a quasi quality; such, for instance, is the idea of a horse when a horse is not present. Species is that which is comprehended under genus, as man is comprehended under animal.

XLII. Antipater explains what a definition is in the first book of his treatise on Definitions. It is a statement reached through analysis and expressed so as to give a complete idea. Chrysippus, in his treatise on Definitions, calls it an explanation of an idea. A description is a statement that uses figurative language to convey knowledge of a subject. It may also be called a simpler kind of definition, giving the force of a definition in plainer language. A genus includes many ideas that are inseparably connected. For example, the term animal includes all particular kinds of animals. An idea is an image in the mind. It does not express anything actually real or any actual quality, but only a quasi reality and a quasi quality. One example is the idea of a horse when no horse is present. A species is something included under a genus, as man is included under animal.

Again, that is the most general genus which, being a genus itself, has no other genus, as the existent. And that is the most special species, which being a species has no other species, as, for instance, Socrates.

Again, the most general genus is a genus that has no higher genus, such as the existent. The most specific species is a species that has no lower species, such as Socrates.

XLIII. The division of genus is a dissection of it into the proximate species; as, for instance, “Of animals, some are rational, others irrational.” Contrary division is the dissection of genus into species on the principle of the contrary; so as to be by a sort of negation; as, for instance, “Of existent things, some are good and some not good;” and, “Of things which are not good, some are bad and some indifferent.” Partition is an arrangement of a genus with reference to place, as Crinis says, for instance, “Of goods, some have reference to the mind and some to the body.”

XLIII. Division of a genus separates it into its immediate species. For example, “Some animals are rational, others irrational.” Contrary division separates a genus into species by contrast, using a kind of negation. For example, “Some things that exist are good, and some are not good,” and “Some things that are not good are bad, and some are indifferent.” Partition, as Crinis says, arranges a genus according to place. For example, “Some goods relate to the mind and some to the body.”

XLIV. Ambiguity (ἀμφιβολία) is an expression signifying two or more things having an ordinary or a peculiar meaning, according to the pronunciation, in such a way that more things than one may be understood by the very same expression. Take, for instance, the words αὐλητρὶς πέπτωκε. For you may understand by them, a house has fallen down three times (αὐλὴ τρὶς πέπτωκε), or, a female flute-player has fallen, taking αὐλητρὶς as synonymous with αὐλητρία.

XLIV. Ambiguity (ἀμφιβολία) occurs when an expression has two or more ordinary or special meanings, depending on its pronunciation. The same expression can therefore be understood in more than one way. Take, for example, the words αὐλητρὶς πέπτωκε. They may mean that a house has fallen down three times (αὐλὴ τρὶς πέπτωκε). Or they may mean that a female flute-player has fallen, if αὐλητρὶς is taken to mean the same as αὐλητρία.

LV. Dialectics are, as Posidonius explains them, the science of what is true and false, and neither one or the other, and it is, as Chrysippus explains it, conversant about words that signify and things that are signified; these then are the doctrines asserted by the Stoics in their speculations on the subject of the voice.

LV. Posidonius explains dialectics as the science of what is true, false, or neither. Chrysippus explains it as the study of words that signify and the things they signify. These, then, are the doctrines the Stoics put forward in their discussions of speech.

XLVI. But in that part of dialectics which concerns things and ideas signified, they treat of propositions, of perfect enunciations, of judgments, of syllogisms, of imperfect enunciations, of attributes and deficiencies, and of both direct and indirect categorems or predicaments.

XLVI. But in the part of dialectics concerned with things and the ideas signified, they discuss propositions, complete statements, and judgments. They also discuss syllogisms, incomplete statements, attributes, deficiencies, and both direct and indirect categorems or predicaments.

XLVII. And they say that enunciation is the manifestation of the ideal perception; and these enunciations the Stoics pronounce some to be perfect in themselves, and some to be defective; now those are defective, which furnish an incomplete sense, as for instance, “He writes.” For then we ask further, “Who writes?” But those are perfect in themselves, which give a sense entirely complete, as for instance, “Socrates writes.” Accordingly, in the defective enunciations, categorems are applied; but in those which are perfect in themselves, axioms, and syllogisms, and questions, and interrogations, are brought into play. Now a categorem is something which is predicated of something else, being either a thing which is added to one or more objects, according to the definition of Apollodorus, or else a defective enunciation added to the nominative case, for the purpose of forming a proposition.

XLVII. They say that an enunciation expresses an ideal perception. The Stoics say that some enunciations are complete in themselves, while others are incomplete. Incomplete enunciations do not express a complete sense, as in “He writes.” We then ask, “Who writes?” But complete enunciations express a fully complete sense, as in “Socrates writes.” Thus, incomplete enunciations involve categorems. Complete enunciations, on the other hand, involve axioms, syllogisms, questions, and interrogations. A categorem is something predicated of something else. According to Apollodorus, it is something added to one or more objects. Alternatively, it is an incomplete enunciation added to a noun in the nominative case to form a proposition.

Now of categorems, some are accidents … as for instance, “The sailing through a rock.” … And of categorems, some are direct, some indirect, and some neither one nor the other. Now those are correct, which are construed with one of the oblique cases, in such a manner as to produce a categorem, as for instance, “He hears, he sees, he converses.” And those are indirect, which are construed with the passive voice, as for instance, “I am heard, I am seen.” And those which are neither one nor the other, are those which are construed in a neutral kind of manner, as for instance, “To think, to walk.” And those are reciprocal, which are among the indirect ones, without being indirect themselves. Those are effects, ἐνεργήματα, which are such words as, “He is shaved;” for then, the man who is shaved, implies himself.

Some categorems are accidents … for example, “The sailing through a rock.” … Some categorems are direct, some indirect, and some neither. Direct categorems are constructed with one of the oblique cases, so as to produce a categorem. Examples include “He hears, he sees, he converses.” Indirect categorems are constructed in the passive voice, as in “I am heard, I am seen.” Categorems that are neither direct nor indirect are constructed in a neutral manner, as in “To think, to walk.” Reciprocal categorems are among the indirect ones, without being indirect themselves. Effects, ἐνεργήματα, are expressions such as “He is shaved.” In this case, the man who is shaved implies himself.

Huerner thinks, as is evident, that something is missing here. He proposes reading the sentence as follows: Τῶν δὲ κατηγορημάτων τὰ μέν ἐστι συμβάματα ὡς τὸ πλεῖν, οἷον Σωκράτης πλεῖ, τὰ δὲ παρασυμβάματα ὡς τὸ διὰ πέτρας πλεῖν. On this passage, Liddell and Scott, Gr. Eng. Lex. voc. σύμβαμα, say: “σύμβαμα … as a philosophical term of the Stoics = κατηγόρημα, a complete predicament such as is an intransitive verb: e.g. Σωκράτης περιπατεῖ; while an imperfect verb was regarded as an incomplete predicament; e.g. Σωκράτει μέλει, and called παρασύμβαμα, or παρακατηγόρημα.”

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

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

XLVIII. An axiom, is that thing which is true, or false, or perfect in itself, being asserted, or denied positively, as far as depends upon itself; as Chrysippus explains it in his Dialectic Definitions; as for instance, “It is day,” “Dion is walking.” And it has received the name of axiom, ἀξίωμα, because it is either maintained, ἀξιοῦται, or repudiated. For the man who says, “It is day,” appears to maintain the fact of its being day. If then it is day, the axiom put before one is true; but if it is not day, the axiom is false. And an axiom, a question, and an interrogation, differ from one another, and so does an imperative proposition from one which is adjurative, or imprecatory, or hypothetical, or appellative, or false. For that is an axiom which we utter, when we affirm anything positively, which is either true or false. And a question is a thing complete in itself, as also is an axiom, but which requires an answer, as for instance, “Is it day?” Now this is neither true nor false; but, as “It is day” is an axiom; so is, “Is it day?” a question. But an interrogation, πύσμα, is a thing to which it is not possible to make an answer symbolically, as in the case of a question, ἐρώτημα, saying merely “Yes,” but we must reply, “He does live in this place.”

XLVIII. An axiom is something that is true or false, or complete in itself. It is positively asserted or denied, so far as it depends on itself. This is how Chrysippus explains it in his Dialectic Definitions. Examples are “It is day” and “Dion is walking.” It is called an axiom, ἀξίωμα, because it is either maintained, ἀξιοῦται, or rejected. Someone who says, “It is day,” appears to maintain that it is day. If it is day, the stated axiom is true. But if it is not day, the axiom is false. An axiom, a question, and an interrogation differ from one another. An imperative proposition also differs from one that is adjurative, imprecatory, hypothetical, appellative, or false. An axiom is what we utter when we make a positive statement that is either true or false. A question, like an axiom, is complete in itself, but it requires an answer. For example, “Is it day?” is neither true nor false. “It is day” is an axiom, while “Is it day?” is a question. But an interrogation, πύσμα, cannot be answered with a simple sign, as a question, ἐρώτημα, can be answered by saying “Yes.” Instead, we must reply, “He does live in this place.”

The imperative proposition is a thing which we utter when we give an order, as for instance this:—

An imperative proposition is something we say when we give an order, as in this example:

Do you now go to the sweet stream of Inachus. …

Now go to the sweet stream of Inachus. …

This line is from Inachus, one of Sophocles’ lost plays.

The appellative proposition is one which is used in the case in which, when a man says anything, he must address somebody, as for instance:—

An appellative proposition is used when a person says something and must address someone, for example:

Atrides, glorious king of men, Most mighty Agamemnon.

Atrides, glorious king of men, Mighty Agamemnon, greatest of all.

Homer, Iliad II. 484.

A false judgment is a proposition, which, while it has at the same time the appearance of a real judgment, loses this character by the addition, and under the influence of, some particle, as for instance:

A false judgment is a proposition that looks like a real judgment. But adding a particle makes it something else, as in this example:

The Parthenon at least is beautiful. How like the herdsman is to Priam’s sons.

At least the Parthenon is beautiful. How much the herdsman resembles Priam’s sons.

There is also the dubitative proposition, which differs from the judgment, inasmuch as it is always uttered in the form of a doubt; as for instance:—

There is also the dubitative proposition. Unlike a judgment, it is always expressed as a doubt. For example:

Are not, then, grief and life two kindred states?

Then aren't grief and life closely related?

This line is from Menander's Citharista.

But questions, and interrogations, and things like these, are neither true nor false, while judgments and propositions are necessarily one or the other.

But questions, interrogations, and similar things are neither true nor false. Judgments and propositions, however, must be either true or false.

Now of axioms, some are simple, and others are not simple; as Chrysippus, and Archedemus, and Athenodorus, and Antipater, and Crinis, agree in dividing them. Those are simple, which consist of an axiom or proposition, which is not ambiguous, (or of several axioms, or propositions of the same character,) as for instance the sentence, “It is day.” And those are not simple, which consist of an axiom or proposition which is ambiguous, or of several axioms or propositions of that character. Of an axiom, or proposition, which is ambiguous, as “If it is day;” of several axioms, or propositions of that character, as, “If it is day, it is light.”

Some axioms are simple, while others are not. Chrysippus, Archedemus, Athenodorus, Antipater, and Crinis all agree on this division. Simple axioms consist of one unambiguous axiom or proposition, or several of the same kind. One example is “It is day.” Axioms that are not simple consist of one ambiguous axiom or proposition, or several of that kind. An example of one ambiguous proposition is “If it is day.” An example involving several is “If it is day, it is light.”

And simple propositions are divided into the affirmative, the negative, the privative, the categorical, the definite, and the indefinite; those which are not simple, are divided into the combined, and the adjunctive, the connected and the disjunctive, and the causal and the augmentative, and the diminutive. That is an affirmative proposition, “It is not day.” And the species of this is doubly affirmative. That again is doubly affirmative, which is affirmative of an affirmative, as for instance, “It is not not day;” for this amounts to, “It is day.” That is a negative proposition, which consists of a negative particle and a categorem, as for instance, “No one is walking.” That is a privative proposition which consists of a privative particle and an axiom according to power, as “This man is inhuman.” That is a categorical proposition, which consists of a nominative case and a categorem, as for instance, “Dion is walking.” That is a definite proposition, which consists of a demonstrative nominative case and a categorem, as for instance, “This man is walking.” That is an indefinite one which consists of an indefinite particle, or of indefinite particles, as for instance, “Somebody is walking,” “He is moving.”

Simple propositions are divided into affirmative, negative, privative, categorical, definite, and indefinite propositions. Propositions that are not simple are divided into combined, adjunctive, connected, disjunctive, causal, augmentative, and diminutive propositions. An affirmative proposition is, for example, “It is not day.” One kind of affirmative proposition is doubly affirmative. A doubly affirmative proposition affirms an affirmative proposition, as in “It is not not day.” This amounts to “It is day.” A negative proposition consists of a negative particle and a categorem, as in “No one is walking.” A privative proposition consists of a privative particle and an axiom according to power, as in “This man is inhuman.” A categorical proposition consists of a noun in the nominative case and a categorem, as in “Dion is walking.” A definite proposition consists of a demonstrative in the nominative case and a categorem, as in “This man is walking.” An indefinite proposition consists of one or more indefinite particles, as in “Somebody is walking,” or “He is moving.”

Of propositions which are not simple, the combined proposition is, as Chrysippus states, in his Dialectics, and Diogenes, too, in his Dialectic Art; that which is held together by the copulative conjunction “if.” And this conjunction professes that the second member of the sentence follows the first, as for instance, “If it is day, it is light.” That which is adjunctive is, as Crinis states in his Dialectic Art, an axiom which is made to depend on the conjunction “since” (ἐπεὶ), beginning with an axiom and ending in an axiom, as for instance, “Since it is day, it is light.” And this conjunction professes both that the second portion of the proposition follows the first, and the first is true. That is a connected proposition which is connected by some copulative conjunctions, as for instance, “It both is day, and it is light.” That is a disjunctive proposition which is disconnected by the disjunctive conjunction, “or” (ἤτοι), as for instance, “It is either day or night.” And this proposition professes that one or other of these propositions is false. That is a causal proposition which is connected by the word, “because;” as for instance, “Because it is day, it is light.” For the first is, as it were, the cause of the second. That is an augmentative proposition, which explains the greater, which is construed with an augmentative particle, and which is placed between the two members of the proposition, as for instance, “It is rather day than night.” The diminutive proposition is, in every respect, the exact contrary of the preceding one; as for instance, “It is less night than day.” Again, at times, axioms or propositions are opposed to one another in respect of their truth and falsehood, when one is an express denial of the other; as for instance, “It is day,” and, “It is not day.”

Among propositions that are not simple, a combined proposition is held together by the conjunction “if.” So say Chrysippus in his Dialectics and Diogenes in his Dialectic Art. The conjunction “if” indicates that the second part follows from the first. For example, “If it is day, it is light.” According to Crinis in his Dialectic Art, an adjunctive proposition depends on the conjunction “since” (ἐπεὶ). It begins and ends with an axiom, as in “Since it is day, it is light.” The conjunction “since” indicates both that the second part follows from the first and that the first is true. A connected proposition is joined by copulative conjunctions, as in “It is both day and light.” A disjunctive proposition is separated by the disjunctive conjunction “or” (ἤτοι), as in “It is either day or night.” This proposition indicates that one or the other of these propositions is false. A causal proposition is joined by the word “because,” as in “Because it is day, it is light.” The first part is, as it were, the cause of the second. An augmentative proposition expresses a greater degree. It uses an augmentative particle placed between the two parts, as in “It is rather day than night.” A diminutive proposition is in every respect the exact opposite, as in “It is less night than day.” Again, axioms or propositions are sometimes opposed in truth and falsehood when one expressly denies the other. For example, “It is day” and “It is not day.”

Again, a conjunctive proposition is correct, when it is such that the opposite of the conclusion is contradictory of the premiss; as for instance, the proposition, “If it is day, it is light,” is true; for, “It is not light,” which is the opposite to the conclusion expressed, is contradictory to the premiss, “It is day.” And a conjunctive proposition is incorrect, when it is such that the opposite of the conclusion is not inconsistent with the premiss, as for instance, “If it is day, Dion is walking.” For the fact that Dion is not walking, is not contradictory of the premiss, “It is day.”

Again, a conjunctive proposition is correct when the opposite of its conclusion contradicts its premise. For example, “If it is day, it is light,” is true. For “It is not light,” the opposite of the conclusion, contradicts the premise, “It is day.” A conjunctive proposition is incorrect when the opposite of its conclusion does not conflict with its premise. For example, “If it is day, Dion is walking,” is incorrect. For the fact that Dion is not walking does not contradict the premise, “It is day.”

An adjunctive proposition is correct, which begins with a true premiss, and ends in a consequence which follows of necessity, as for instance, “Since it is day, the sun is above the earth.” But it is incorrect when it either begins with a false premiss, or ends with a consequence which does not follow properly; as for instance, “Since it is night, Dion is walking,” for this may be said in the day-time.

An adjunctive proposition is correct when it begins with a true premise and ends with a conclusion that necessarily follows. For example, “Since it is day, the sun is above the earth.” But an adjunctive proposition is incorrect if it begins with a false premise or ends with a conclusion that does not properly follow. For example, “Since it is night, Dion is walking.” This may be said during the day.

A causal proposition is correct, when it begins with a true premiss, and ends in a consequence which necessarily follows from it, but yet does not have its premiss reciprocally consequent upon its conclusion; as for instance, “Because it is day, it is light.” For the fact of its being light, is a necessary consequence of its being day; but the fact of its being day, is not necessarily a consequence of its being light. A causal proposition is incorrect, which either begins with a false premiss, or ends with a conclusion that does not follow from it, or which has a premiss which does not correspond to the conclusion; as for instance, “Because it is night, Dion is walking.”

A causal proposition is correct when it starts with a true premise and ends with a conclusion that necessarily follows. But the premise must not necessarily follow from the conclusion in return. For example, “Because it is day, it is light.” Light necessarily follows from its being day. But its being day does not necessarily follow from there being light. A causal proposition is incorrect if it starts with a false premise or ends with a conclusion that does not follow. It is also incorrect if the premise does not correspond to the conclusion. For example, “Because it is night, Dion is walking.”

A proposition is persuasive, which leads to the assent of the mind, as for instance, “If she brought him forth, she is his mother.” But still this is a falsehood, for a hen is not the mother of an egg. Again, there are some propositions which are possible, and some which are impossible; and some which are necessary, and some which are not necessary. That is possible, which is capable of being true, since external circumstances are no hindrance to its being true; as for instance, “Diocles lives.” And that is impossible which is not capable of being true; as for instance, “The earth flies.” That is necessary which, being true, is not capable of being false; or perhaps is intrinsically capable of being false, but still has external circumstances which hinder its being false, as for instance, “Virtue profits a man.” That again, is not necessary, which is true, but which has a capacity of being false, though external circumstances offer no hindrance to either alternative; as for instance, “Dion walks.”

A proposition is persuasive if it leads the mind to accept it. For example, “If she gave birth to him, she is his mother.” But this is false, because a hen is not the mother of an egg. Some propositions are possible, and some are impossible. Some are necessary, and some are not necessary. A possible proposition can be true because no external circumstances prevent it from being true. An example is “Diocles lives.” An impossible proposition cannot be true. An example is “The earth flies.” A necessary proposition is true and cannot be false. Or perhaps it could be false in itself, but external circumstances prevent it from being false. An example is “Virtue benefits a man.” A proposition that is not necessary is true but can be false. External circumstances do not prevent it from being either true or false. An example is “Dion walks.”

That is a reasonable or probable proposition, which has a great preponderance of opportunities in favour of its being true; as for instance, “I shall be alive to-morrow.” And there are other different kinds of propositions and conversions of them, from true to false, and re-conversions again; concerning which we must speak at some length.

A reasonable or probable proposition is one that is much more likely to be true than false. For example, “I shall be alive tomorrow.” There are other kinds of propositions, too. They can change from true to false and back again. We must discuss these matters at some length.

XLIX. An argument, as Crinis says, is that which is composed of a lemma or major premiss, an assumption or minor premiss, and a conclusion; as for instance this, “If it is day, it is light;” “But it is day, therefore it is light.” For the lemma, or major premiss, is, “If it is day, it is light.” The assumption, or minor premiss, is, “It is day.” The conclusion follows, “Therefore it is light.” The mode of a proposition is, as it were, a figure of an argument, as for instance, such as this, “If it is the first, it is the second; but it is the first, therefore it is the second.”

XLIX. Crinis says that an argument consists of a lemma or major premise, an assumption or minor premise, and a conclusion. For example: “If it is day, it is light.” “But it is day, therefore it is light.” The lemma, or major premise, is “If it is day, it is light.” The assumption, or minor premise, is “It is day.” The conclusion follows: “Therefore it is light.” The mode of a proposition is, so to speak, the form of an argument. For example: “If it is the first, it is the second. But it is the first, therefore it is the second.”

A conditional syllogism is that which is composed of both the preceding arguments; as for instance, “If Plato is alive, Plato breathes; but the first fact is so, therefore so is the second.” And this conditional syllogism has been introduced for the sake, in long and complex sentences, of not being forced to repeat the assumption, as it was a long one, and also the conclusion; but of being able, instead, to content one’s self with summing it up briefly thus, “The first case put is true, therefore so is the second.”

A conditional syllogism is made up of both preceding arguments. For example, “If Plato is alive, Plato breathes. But the first is true, so the second is true too.” This form was introduced for use in long, complex sentences. It avoids the need to repeat a long assumption and its conclusion. Instead, one can sum them up briefly: “The first statement is true, so the second is true too.”

Of arguments, some are conclusive, others are inconclusive. Those are inconclusive which are such, that the opposite of the conclusion drawn in them is not necessarily incompatible with the connection of the premisses. As for instance, such arguments as these, “If it is day, it is light; but it is day, therefore, Dion is walking.” But of conclusive arguments, some are called properly by the kindred name conclusions, and some are called syllogistic arguments. Those then are syllogistic which are either such as do not admit of demonstration, or such as are brought to an indemonstrable conclusion, according to some one or more propositions; such for instance as the following: “If Dion walks, then Dion is in motion.” Those are conclusive, which infer their conclusion specially, and not syllogistically; such for instance, as this, “The proposition it is both day and night is false. Now it is day; therefore, it is not night.”

Some arguments are conclusive, while others are inconclusive. An argument is inconclusive if the opposite of its conclusion is not necessarily incompatible with its premises taken together. For example: “If it is day, it is light. But it is day. Therefore, Dion is walking.” Some conclusive arguments are properly called conclusions, while others are called syllogistic arguments. Syllogistic arguments are either indemonstrable or can be reduced to an indemonstrable conclusion using one or more propositions. An example is: “If Dion walks, then Dion is in motion.” Arguments called conclusions establish their conclusion in a particular way, rather than syllogistically. For example: “The proposition that it is both day and night is false. Now it is day. Therefore, it is not night.”

Those again, are unsyllogistic arguments which have an air of probability about them, and a resemblance to syllogistic ones, but which still do not lead to the deduction of proper conclusions. As for instance, “If Dion is a horse, Dion is an animal; but Dion is not a horse, therefore, Dion is not an animal.”

Unsyllogistic arguments also seem plausible and resemble syllogistic arguments, but they do not lead to valid conclusions. For example: “If Dion is a horse, Dion is an animal. But Dion is not a horse, so Dion is not an animal.”

Again, of arguments, some are true, and some are false. Those are true which deduce a conclusion from true premisses, as, for instance, “If virtue profits, then vice injures.” And those are false which have some falsehood in their premisses, or which are inconclusive; as, for instance, “If it is day, it is light; but it is day, therefore, Dion is alive.”

Again, some arguments are true, and some are false. True arguments draw a conclusion from true premises. For example, “If virtue benefits, then vice harms.” False arguments have something false in their premises, or their conclusions do not follow. For example, “If it is day, it is light, but it is day, therefore, Dion is alive.”

There are also arguments which are possible, and others which are impossible; some likewise which are necessary, and others which are not necessary. There are too, some which are not demonstrated from their not standing in need of demonstration, and these are laid down differently by different people; but Chrysippus enumerates five kinds, which serve as the foundation for every kind of argument; and which are assumed in conclusive arguments properly so called, and in syllogisms, and in modes.

Some arguments are possible, while others are impossible. Some are necessary, while others are not. Some arguments are not demonstrated because they need no demonstration. Different people classify these arguments differently. But Chrysippus lists five kinds that form the foundation of every kind of argument. These five kinds are assumed in conclusive arguments properly so called, in syllogisms, and in modes.

The first kind that is not demonstrated, is that in which the whole argument consists of a conjunctive and an antecedent; and in which the first term repeats itself so as to form a sort of conjunctive proposition, and to bring forward as the conclusion the last term. As, for instance, “If the first be true, so is the second; but the first is true, therefore, so is the second.” The second kind that is not demonstrated, is that which, by means of the conjunctive and the opposite of the conclusion, has a conclusion opposite to the first premiss. As, for instance, “If it be day, it is light; but it is night, therefore it is not day.” For here the assumption arises from the opposite of the conclusion, and the conclusion from the opposite of the first term. The third kind that is not demonstrative, is that which, by a negative combination, and by one of the terms in the proposition, produces the contradictory of the remainder; as, for instance, “Plato is not dead and alive at the same time but Plato is dead; therefore, Plato is not alive.” The fourth kind that is not demonstrative, is that which, by means of a disjunctive, and one of those terms which are in the disjunctive, has a conclusion opposite to what remains; as, for instance, “It is either the first, or the second; but it is the first; therefore, it is not the second.” The fifth kind that is not demonstrative, is that in which the whole argument consists of a disjunctive proposition, and the opposite of one of the terms, and then one makes the conclusion identical with the remainder; as, for instance, “It is either day or night; but it is not night; therefore it is day.”

The first kind of argument that is not demonstrated consists of a conditional statement and its first term. The first term is repeated, and the last term becomes the conclusion. For example, “If the first is true, then the second is true. But the first is true, so the second is true.” The second kind uses a conditional statement and the opposite of its conclusion. The argument then concludes the opposite of the first premise. For example, “If it is day, it is light. But it is night, so it is not day.” Here the assumption is the opposite of the conditional statement’s conclusion. The argument’s conclusion is the opposite of its first term. The third kind uses a statement denying that two things are true together. It then states one of those things and concludes that the other is not true. For example, “Plato is not dead and alive at the same time. But Plato is dead, so Plato is not alive.” The fourth kind uses a statement offering two alternatives. It then states one alternative and concludes that the other is not true. For example, “It is either the first or the second. But it is the first, so it is not the second.” The fifth kind uses a statement offering two alternatives and denies one of them. It then concludes that the remaining alternative is true. For example, “It is either day or night. But it is not night, so it is day.”

According to the Stoics, truth follows upon truth, as “It is light,” follows upon “It is day.” And falsehood follows upon falsehood; as, “If it is false that it is night, it is also false that it is dark.” Sometimes too, truth follows from falsehood; for instance, though it is false that “the earth flies,” it is true that “there is the earth.” But falsehood does never follow from truth; for, from the fact that “there is the earth,” it does not follow “that the earth flies.”

According to the Stoics, truth follows from truth. For example, “It is light” follows from “It is day.” Falsehood also follows from falsehood. For example, “If it is false that it is night, it is also false that it is dark.” Sometimes truth follows from falsehood. For example, “the earth flies” is false, but “there is the earth” is true. But falsehood never follows from truth. The fact that “there is the earth” does not imply “that the earth flies.”

There are also some arguments which are perplexed, being veiled and escaping notice; or such as are called sorites, the horned one, or the nobody. That is a veiled argument which resembles the following one; “two are not a few, nor three, nor those, nor four, and so on to ten; but two are few; therefore, so are ten few.”

Some arguments are also puzzling because they are veiled and escape notice. Others are called sorites, the horned one, or the nobody. A veiled argument resembles the following: “Two are not a few, nor are three, nor those, nor four, and so on up to ten. But two are few, so ten are few too.”

There appears to be a substantial gap here. The following example is a sorites, not an example of the veiled argument. There is also no example of the concealed or the horned argument. Still, the fact that the text is unintelligible is far from proof that we do not have it as Diogenes wrote it. The writer in Smith’s Biographical Dictionary, vol. i. pp. 1022, 1023, says that “the work contains a rich store of living features, which serve to illustrate the private life of the Greeks.” Yet it is equally clear that the author “was unequal to writing a history of Greek philosophy. His work in reality is nothing but a compilation of the most heterogeneous and often contradictory accounts.… The traces of carelessness and mistakes are very numerous; much in the work is confused, and there is also much that is quite absurd. And as far as philosophy itself is concerned, Diogenes very frequently did not know what he was talking about when he abridged the theories of the philosophers.”

The nobody is a conjunctive argument, and one that consists of the indefinite and the definite, and which has a minor premiss and a conclusion; as, for instance, “If any one is here, he is not in Rhodes.”

The nobody is a conjunctive argument made up of the indefinite and the definite. It has a minor premise and a conclusion. For example, “If anyone is here, he is not in Rhodes.”

L. Such then are the doctrines which the Stoics maintain on the subject of logic, in order as far as possible to establish their point that the logician is the only wise man. For they assert that all affairs are looked at by means of that speculation which proceeds by argument, including under this assertion both those that belong to natural and also those which belong to moral philosophy: for, say they, how else could one determine the exact value of nouns, or how else could one explain what laws are imposed upon such and such actions? Moreover, as there are two habits both incidental to virtue, the one considers what each existing thing is, and the other inquires what it is called. These then are the notions of the Stoics on the subject of logic.

L. These, then, are the Stoic teachings on logic. They aim, as far as possible, to establish that only the logician is wise. The Stoics claim that all matters are examined through reasoning. This includes matters of natural philosophy and moral philosophy. For how else, they ask, could one determine the precise meaning of words? Or how else could one explain what rules apply to particular actions? Moreover, two habits are associated with virtue. One considers what each existing thing is, while the other asks what it is called. These, then, are the Stoic views on logic.

LI. The ethical part of philosophy they divide into the topic of inclination, the topic of good and bad, the topic of the passions, the topic of virtue, the topic of the chief good, and of primary estimation, and of actions; the topic of what things are becoming, and of exhortation and dissuasion. And this division is the one laid down by Chrysippus, and Archedemus, and Zeno, of Tarsus, and Apollodorus, and Diogenes, and Antipater, and Posidonius. For Zeno, of Cittium, and Cleanthes, have, as being more ancient they were likely to, adopted a more simple method of treating these subjects. But these men divided logical and the natural philosophy.

LI. They divide ethics into several topics: inclination, good and bad, passions, virtue, the chief good, primary estimation, and actions. The other topics are what is becoming, and exhortation and dissuasion. Chrysippus, Archedemus, Zeno of Tarsus, Apollodorus, Diogenes, Antipater, and Posidonius set out this division. Zeno of Cittium and Cleanthes treated these subjects more simply, as might be expected of earlier thinkers. But these men divided logic and natural philosophy.

LII. They say that the first inclination which an animal has is to protect itself, as nature brings herself to take an interest in it from the beginning, as Chrysippus affirms in the first book of his treatise on Ends; where he says, that the first and dearest object to every animal is its own existence, and its consciousness of that existence. For that it is not natural for any animal to be alienated from itself, or even to be brought into such a state as to be indifferent to itself, being neither alienated from nor interested in itself. It remains, therefore, that we must assert that nature has bound the animal to itself by the greatest unanimity and affection; for by that means it repels all that is injurious, and attracts all that is akin to it and desirable. But as for what some people say, that the first inclination of animals is to pleasure, they say what is false. For they say that pleasure, if there be any such thing at all, is an accessory only, which, nature, having sought it out by itself, as well as those things which are adapted to its constitution, receives incidentally in the same manner as animals are pleased, and plants made to flourish.

LII. They say that an animal’s first impulse is to protect itself. Nature takes an interest in the animal from the beginning. Chrysippus affirms this in the first book of his treatise on Ends. He says that what is first and dearest to every animal is its own existence and its awareness of that existence. It is not natural for an animal to be estranged from itself. Nor is it natural for an animal to be indifferent to itself, neither estranged from itself nor concerned for itself. We must therefore say that nature has bound each animal to itself in complete harmony and affection. In this way, the animal repels everything harmful and draws toward itself everything suited to it and desirable. But some people say that animals’ first impulse is toward pleasure, and this is false. The Stoics say that pleasure, if it exists at all, is only a byproduct. Nature seeks out for itself the things suited to its constitution and receives pleasure incidentally, just as animals come to feel pleasure and plants come to flourish.

Moreover, say they, nature makes no difference between animals and plants, when she regulates them so as to leave them without voluntary motion or sense; and some things too take place in ourselves in the same manner as in plants. But, as inclination in animals tends chiefly to the point of making them pursue what is appropriate to them, we may say that their inclinations are regulated by nature. And as reason is given to rational animals according to a more perfect principle, it follows, that to live correctly according to reason, is properly predicated of those who live according to nature. For nature is as it were the artist who produces the inclination.

Moreover, they say that nature makes no distinction between animals and plants when it governs them without giving them voluntary movement or senses. Some things also happen in us in the same way as in plants. But the inclinations of animals are directed chiefly toward pursuing what is appropriate to them. So we may say that nature governs their inclinations. Reason is given to rational animals according to a more perfect principle. It follows that living properly according to reason is what it means for them to live according to nature. For nature is like the artist that produces inclination.

LIII. On which account Zeno was the first writer who, in his treatise on the Nature of Man, said, that the chief good was confessedly to live according to nature; which is to live according to virtue, for nature leads us to this point. And in like manner Cleanthes speaks in his treatise on Pleasure, and so do Posidonius and Hecaton in their essays on Ends as the Chief Good. And again, to live according to virtue is the same thing as living according to one’s experience of those things which happen by nature; as Chrysippus explains it in the first book of his treatise on the Chief Good. For our individual natures are all parts of universal nature; on which account the chief good is to live in a manner corresponding to nature, and that means corresponding to one’s own nature and to universal nature; doing none of those things which the common law of mankind is in the habit of forbidding, and that common law is identical with that right reason which pervades everything, being the same with Jupiter, who is the regulator and chief manager of all existing things.

LIII. For this reason, Zeno was the first writer to say that the highest good is, by common agreement, to live according to nature. He said this in his treatise on the Nature of Man. Living according to nature means living according to virtue, because nature leads us to virtue. Cleanthes says much the same in his treatise on Pleasure. So do Posidonius and Hecaton in their essays on Ends as the Chief Good. Chrysippus also says that living according to virtue means living in accordance with our experience of what happens in nature. He explains this in the first book of his treatise on the Chief Good. For our individual natures are all parts of universal nature. The highest good is therefore to live in harmony with nature, both our own nature and universal nature. This means doing none of the things that the common law of mankind generally forbids. That common law is identical with the right reason that pervades everything. This reason is the same as Jupiter, who governs and directs all existing things.

Again, this very thing is the virtue of the happy man and the perfect happiness of life when everything is done according to a harmony with the genius of each individual with reference to the will of the universal governor and manager of all things. Diogenes, accordingly, says expressly that the chief good is to act according to sound reason in our selection of things according to our nature. And Archedemus defines it to be living in the discharge of all becoming duties. Chrysippus again understands that the nature, in a manner corresponding to which we ought to live, is both the common nature, and also human nature in particular; but Cleanthes will not admit of any other nature than the common one alone, as that to which people ought to live in a manner corresponding; and repudiates all mention of a particular nature. And he asserts that virtue is a disposition of the mind always consistent and always harmonious; that one ought to seek it out for its own sake, without being influenced by fear or hope by any external influence. Moreover, that it is in it that happiness consists, as producing in the soul the harmony of a life always consistent with itself; and that if a rational animal goes the wrong way, it is because it allows itself to be misled by the deceitful appearances of exterior things, or perhaps by the instigation of those who surround it; for nature herself never gives us any but good inclinations.

Again, this is the virtue of a happy person and the complete happiness of life: to do everything in harmony with one’s own guiding spirit and the will of the universal ruler and manager of all things. Accordingly, Diogenes expressly says that the highest good is to use sound reason when choosing things in accordance with our nature. Archedemus defines the highest good as living in the fulfillment of all proper duties. Chrysippus holds that the nature we should live in accordance with is both universal nature and human nature in particular. But Cleanthes accepts only universal nature as the nature we should live in accordance with. He rejects any mention of a particular nature. He says that virtue is a state of mind that is always consistent and harmonious. We should seek virtue for its own sake, without being influenced by fear, hope, or any external influence. Happiness, moreover, consists in virtue, because virtue produces harmony in the soul through a life that is always consistent with itself. If a rational creature goes astray, it is because it allows itself to be misled by the deceptive appearances of external things, or perhaps by the influence of those around it. For nature herself gives us only good inclinations.

LIV. Now virtue is, to speak generally, a perfection in everything, as in the case of a statue; whether it is invisible as good health, or speculative as prudence. For Hecaton says, in the first book of his treatise on Virtues, that the scientific and speculative virtues are those which have a constitution arising from speculation and study, as, for instance, prudence and justice; and that those which are not speculative are those which are generally viewed in their extension as a practical result or effect of the former; such for instance, as health and strength. Accordingly, temperance is one of the speculative virtues, and it happens that good health usually follows it, and is marshalled as it were beside it; in the same way as strength follows the proper structure of an arch.—And the unspeculative virtues derive their name from the fact of their not proceeding from any acquiescence reflected by intelligence; but they are derived from others, are only accessories, and are found even in worthless people, as in the case of good health, or courage. And Posidonius, in the first book of his treaties on Ethics, says that the great proof of the reality of virtue is that Socrates, and Diogenes, and Antisthenes, made great improvement; and the great proof of the reality of vice may be found in the fact of its being opposed to virtue.

LIV. Generally speaking, virtue is excellence in anything, as in a statue. It may be invisible, like good health, or intellectual, like prudence. In the first book of his treatise on Virtues, Hecaton says that scientific and intellectual virtues arise from thought and study. Prudence and justice are examples. Nonintellectual virtues, he says, are generally regarded as practical results or effects of the intellectual virtues. Health and strength are examples. Temperance, then, is an intellectual virtue. Good health usually follows temperance and stands, so to speak, beside it, just as strength follows from the proper construction of an arch. Nonintellectual virtues are so called because they do not arise from any assent of the mind. Instead, they arise from other virtues and are only secondary qualities. They are found even in worthless people, as in the case of good health or courage. In the first book of his treatise on Ethics, Posidonius says that the great proof that virtue exists is the great improvement made by Socrates, Diogenes, and Antisthenes. The great proof that vice exists, he says, is that it is opposed to virtue.

Again, Chrysippus, in the first book of his treatise on the Chief Good, and Cleanthes, and also Posidonius in his Exhortations, and Hecaton, all agree that virtue may be taught. And that they are right, and that it may be taught, is plain from men becoming good after having been bad. On this account Panætius teaches that there are two virtues, one speculative and the other practical; but others make three kinds, the logical, the natural, and the ethical. Posidonius divides virtue into four divisions; and Cleanthes, Chrysippus, and Antipater make the divisions more numerous still; for Apollophanes asserts that there is but one virtue, namely, prudence.

Chrysippus, in the first book of his treatise on the Chief Good, agrees with Cleanthes, Posidonius, and Hecaton that virtue can be taught. Posidonius makes this claim in his Exhortations. They are clearly right, because people who were bad become good. For this reason, Panætius teaches that there are two virtues, one theoretical and the other practical. But others identify three kinds: logical, natural, and ethical. Posidonius divides virtue into four kinds. Cleanthes, Chrysippus, and Antipater divide it into even more. For Apollophanes claims that there is only one virtue, namely prudence.

Among the virtues some are primitive and some are derived. The primitive ones are prudence, manly courage, justice, and temperance. And subordinate to these, as a kind of species contained in them, are magnanimity, continence, endurance, presence of mind, wisdom in council. And the Stoics define prudence as a knowledge of what is good, and bad, and indifferent; justice as a knowledge of what ought to be chosen, what ought to be avoided, and what is indifferent; magnanimity as a knowledge of engendering a lofty habit, superior to all such accidents as happen to all men indifferently, whether they be good or bad; continence they consider a disposition which never abandons right reason, or a habit which never yields to pleasure; endurance they call a knowledge or habit by which we understand what we ought to endure, what we ought not, and what is indifferent; presence of mind they define as a habit which is prompt at finding out what is suitable on a sudden emergency; and wisdom in counsel they think a knowledge which leads us to judge what we are to do, and how we are to do it, in order to act becomingly. And analogously, of vices too there are some which are primary, and some which are subordinate; as, for instance, folly, and cowardice, and injustice, and intemperance, are among the primary vices; incontinence, slowness, and folly in counsel among the subordinate ones. And the vices are ignorance of those things of which the virtues are the knowledge.

Some virtues are primary, while others are derived from them. The primary virtues are prudence, courage, justice, and temperance. Subordinate to these, as kinds of primary virtues, are magnanimity, self-control, endurance, presence of mind, and sound judgment in deliberation. The Stoics define prudence as knowledge of what is good, bad, or indifferent. They define justice as knowledge of what should be chosen, avoided, or treated as indifferent. They define magnanimity as knowledge of how to develop a lofty character. Such a character rises above all the good or bad events that can happen to anyone. They regard self-control as a disposition that never abandons right reason, or a habit that never gives in to pleasure. They call endurance the knowledge or habit by which we understand what we should endure, should not endure, or may treat as indifferent. They define presence of mind as the ability to quickly find the right response in an unexpected emergency. They consider sound judgment in deliberation to be knowledge that helps us judge what to do and how to do it, so that we act properly. Similarly, some vices are primary, while others are subordinate. Folly, cowardice, injustice, and lack of temperance are primary vices. Lack of self-control, slowness, and poor judgment in deliberation are subordinate vices. Vices are ignorance of the very things that virtues are knowledge of.

LV. Good, looked at in a general way, is some advantage, with the more particular distinction, being partly what is actually useful, partly what is not contrary to utility. On which account virtue itself, and the good which partakes of virtue are spoken of in a threefold view of the subject. First, as to what kind of good it is, and from what it ensues; as, for instance, in an action done according to virtue. Secondly, as to the agent, in the case of a good man who partakes of virtue.…

LV. In general, good is some kind of advantage. More specifically, it is either actually useful or not contrary to what is useful. For this reason, virtue itself and the good that shares in virtue are considered in three ways. First, there is the kind of good and what it follows from, as in an action done according to virtue. Second, there is the agent, as in the case of a good person who shares in virtue.…

The third point of view is missing, and the ones given seem poorly chosen. Following Huebner’s suggestion, the French translator quotes this passage from Sextus Empiricus (a physician of the Sceptic school, about B.C. 250). The passage comes from his work against the Philosophers. The translator says it may correct and complete Diogenes Laërtius’s account.

“Good is said in one sense of that which produces the useful, or from which the useful results; that is, the good par excellence, virtue. For virtue is as it were the source from which all utility naturally flows. In another sense it is said of that which is accidentally the cause of utility; under this point of view we call good not only virtue, but also those actions which are conformable to virtue, for they are accidentally useful. In the third and last place, we call good everything that possibly can be useful, comprehending under this definition virtue, virtuous actions, friends, good men, the Gods, &c., &c.”

At another time, they define the good in a peculiar manner, as being what is perfect according to the nature of a rational being as rational being. And, secondly, they say that it is conformity to virtue, so that all actions which partake of virtue, and all good men, are themselves in some sense the good. And in the third place, they speak of its accessories, joy, and mirth, and things of that kind. In the same manner they speak of vices, which they divide into folly, cowardice, injustice, and things of that kind. And they consider that those things which partake of vices, and actions done according to vice, and bad men, are themselves in some sense the evil; and its accessories are despondency, and melancholy, and other things of that kind.

At other times, they define the good in a distinctive way. First, they say it is what is perfect according to the nature of a rational being as such. Second, they say the good is conformity to virtue. Thus, all actions that share in virtue, and all good people, are themselves good in some sense. Third, they speak of things that accompany the good, such as joy, cheerfulness, and similar things. They speak of vices in the same way. They divide vices into folly, cowardice, injustice, and similar kinds. They hold that things that share in vice, actions done in accordance with vice, and bad people are themselves evil in some sense. Things that accompany evil include discouragement, sadness, and other similar feelings.

LVI. Again, of goods, some have reference to the mind, and some are external; and some neither have reference to the mind, nor are external. The goods having reference to the mind are virtues, and actions according to the virtues. The external goods are the having a virtuous country, a virtuous friend, and the happiness of one’s country and friend. And those which are not external, and which have no reference to the mind, are such as a man’s being virtuous and happy to himself. And reciprocally, of evils, some have reference to the mind, such as the vices and actions according to them; some are external, such as having a foolish country, or a foolish friend, or one’s country or one’s friend being unhappy. And those evils which are not external, and which have no reference to the mind, are such as a man’s being worthless and unhappy to himself.

LVI. Again, some goods concern the mind, some are external, and some are neither. Goods concerning the mind are virtues and actions in keeping with those virtues. External goods include having a virtuous country or friend, and the happiness of one’s country or friend. Goods that are neither external nor concerned with the mind include being virtuous and happy in oneself. Likewise, some evils concern the mind, such as vices and actions in keeping with them. Some are external, such as having a foolish country or friend, or having an unhappy country or friend. Evils that are neither external nor concerned with the mind include being worthless and unhappy in oneself.

LVII. Again, of goods, some are final, some are efficient, and some are both final and efficient. For instance, a friend, and the services done by him to one, are efficient goods; but courage, and prudence, and liberty, and delight, and mirth, and freedom from pain, and all kinds of actions done according to virtue, are final goods. There are too, as I said before, some goods which are both efficient and final; for inasmuch as they produce perfect happiness they are efficient, and inasmuch as they complete it by being themselves parts of it, they are final. And in the same way, of evils, some are final, and some efficient, and some partake of both natures. For instance, an enemy and the injuries done to one by him, are efficient evils; fear, meanness of condition, slavery, want of delight, depression of spirits, excessive grief, and all actions done according to vice, are final evils; and some partake of both characters, since, inasmuch as they produce perfect unhappiness, they are efficient; and inasmuch as they complete it in such a way as to become parts of it, they are final.

LVII. Again, some goods are ends, some are causes, and some are both. For example, a friend and the services a friend provides are goods that serve as causes. But courage, prudence, liberty, delight, joy, freedom from pain, and all actions performed in accordance with virtue are goods that are ends. As I said before, some goods are both causes and ends. They are causes because they produce perfect happiness. They are ends because they complete happiness by being parts of it. In the same way, some evils are ends, some are causes, and some are both. For example, an enemy and the injuries an enemy causes are evils that serve as causes. Fear, low social standing, slavery, lack of delight, depression, excessive grief, and all actions performed in accordance with vice are evils that are ends. Some evils are both causes and ends. They are causes because they produce perfect unhappiness. They are ends because they complete unhappiness by becoming parts of it.

LVIII. Again, of the goods which have reference to the mind, some are habits, some are dispositions, and some are neither habits nor dispositions. Dispositions are virtues, habits are practices, and those which are neither habits nor dispositions are energies. And, speaking generally, the following may be called mixed goods: happiness in one’s children, and a happy old age. But knowledge is a pure good. And some goods are continually present, such as virtue; and some are not always present, as joy, or taking a walk.

LVIII. Again, some goods related to the mind are habits, some are dispositions, and some are neither. Virtues are dispositions, practices are habits, and activities are neither habits nor dispositions. Generally speaking, happiness in one’s children and a happy old age may be called mixed goods. But knowledge is a pure good. Some goods, such as virtue, are always present. Others, such as joy or taking a walk, are not always present.

LIX. But every good is expedient, and necessary, and profitable, and useful, and serviceable, and beautiful, and advantageous, and eligible, and just. Expedient, inasmuch as it brings us things, which by their happening to us do us good; necessary, inasmuch as it assists us in what we have need to be assisted; profitable, inasmuch as it repays all the care that is expended on it, and makes a return with interest to our great advantage; useful, inasmuch as it supplies us with what is of utility; serviceable, because it does us service which is much praised; beautiful, because it is in accurate proportion to the need we have of it, and to the service it does. Advantageous, inasmuch as it is of such a character as to confer advantage on us; eligible, because it is such that we may rationally choose it; and just, because it is in accordance with law, and is an efficient cause of union.

LIX. But every good thing is beneficial, necessary, profitable, useful, serviceable, beautiful, advantageous, worth choosing, and just. It is beneficial because it brings us things that do us good when they happen to us. It is necessary because it helps us where we need help. It is profitable because it repays all the care spent on it, with interest, to our great advantage. It is useful because it supplies us with what we can use. It is serviceable because it serves us in ways that are highly praised. It is beautiful because it is exactly proportionate to our need for it and the service it provides. It is advantageous because it is capable of giving us an advantage. It is worth choosing because we can reasonably choose it. It is just because it is in accordance with the law and effectively brings people together.

And they call the honourable the perfect good, because it has naturally all the numbers which are required by nature, and because it discloses a perfect harmony. Now, the species of this perfect good are four in number: justice, manly courage, temperance, and knowledge; for in these goods all beautiful actions have their accomplishment. And analogously, there are also four species of the disgraceful: injustice, and cowardice, and intemperance, and folly. And the honourable is predicated in one sense, as making those who are possessed of it worthy of all praise; and in a second sense, it is used of what is well adapted by nature for its proper work; and in another sense, when it expresses that which adorns a man, as when we say that the wise man alone is good and honourable.

They call what is honorable the perfect good because it naturally has all the qualities that nature requires and reveals perfect harmony. There are four kinds of this perfect good: justice, courage, self-control, and knowledge. All noble actions are accomplished through these goods. Similarly, there are four kinds of what is disgraceful: injustice, cowardice, lack of self-control, and folly. The word “honorable” is used in one sense for what makes those who possess it worthy of all praise. In a second sense, it describes what is naturally well suited to its proper work. In another sense, it describes what gives a person distinction, as when we say that only the wise person is good and honorable.

The Stoics also say, that the beautiful is the only good, as Hecaton says, in the third book of his treatise on Goods, and Chrysippus asserts the same principle in his essays on the Beautiful. And they say that this is virtue, and that which partakes of virtue; and this assertion is equal to the other, that everything good is beautiful, and that the good is an equivalent term to the beautiful, inasmuch as the one thing is exactly equal to the other. For since it is good, it is beautiful; and it is beautiful, therefore, it is good.

The Stoics also say that only the beautiful is good. Hecaton says this in the third book of his treatise on Goods. Chrysippus asserts the same principle in his essays on the Beautiful. The Stoics say that the beautiful is virtue and whatever partakes of virtue. This is the same as saying that everything good is beautiful. It also means that “good” and “beautiful” are equivalent terms, because they mean exactly the same thing. For whatever is good is beautiful, and whatever is beautiful is therefore good.

LX. But it seems that all goods are equal, and that every good is to be desired in the highest degree, and that it admits of no relaxation, and of no extension. Moreover, they divide all existing things into good, bad, and indifferent. The good are the virtues, prudence, justice, manly courage, temperance, and the rest of the like qualities. The bad are the contraries, folly, injustice, and the like. Those are indifferent which are neither beneficial nor injurious, such as life, health, pleasure, beauty, strength, riches, a good reputation, nobility of birth; and their contraries, death, disease, labour, disgrace, weakness, poverty, a bad reputation, baseness of birth, and the like; as Hecaton lays it down in the seventh book of his treatise on the Chief Good; and he is followed by Apollodorus, in his Ethics, and by Chrysippus. For they affirm that those things are not good but indifferent, though perhaps a little more near to one species than to the other.

LX. But it seems that all good things are equal. Every good thing is to be desired to the highest degree, and it cannot be diminished or increased. Moreover, they divide everything that exists into three categories: good, bad, and indifferent. Good things are the virtues, such as wisdom, justice, courage, self-control, and other similar qualities. Bad things are their opposites, such as folly, injustice, and the like. Indifferent things are neither beneficial nor harmful. These include life, health, pleasure, beauty, strength, wealth, a good reputation, and noble birth. They also include their opposites: death, disease, hard labor, disgrace, weakness, poverty, a bad reputation, low birth, and the like. Hecaton sets out this view in the seventh book of his treatise on the Chief Good. Apollodorus follows him in his Ethics, as does Chrysippus. For they maintain that these things are not good but indifferent, though perhaps somewhat closer to one category than the other.

For, as it is the property of the hot to warm and not to chill one, so it is the property of the good to benefit and not to injure one. Now, wealth and good health cannot be said to benefit any more than to injure any one: therefore, neither wealth nor good health are goods. Again, they say that that thing is not good which it is possible to use both well and ill. But it is possible to make either a good or a bad use of wealth, or of health; therefore, wealth and good health are not goods. Posidonius, however, affirms that these things do come under the head of goods. But Hecaton, in the nineteenth book of his treatise on Goods, and Chrysippus, in his treatises on Pleasure, both deny that pleasure is a good. For they say that there are disgraceful pleasures, and that nothing disgraceful is good. And that to benefit a person is to move him or to keep him according to virtue, but to injure him is to move him or to keep him according to vice.

Just as heat warms rather than chills, so what is good benefits rather than harms. But wealth and good health cannot be said to benefit anyone more than they harm them. Therefore, neither wealth nor good health is a good. They also say that anything that can be used well or badly is not a good. Wealth and health can both be used well or badly. Therefore, wealth and good health are not goods. Posidonius, however, maintains that they are goods. Hecaton, in the nineteenth book of his treatise on Goods, and Chrysippus, in his treatises on Pleasure, both deny that pleasure is a good. They say that some pleasures are disgraceful, and nothing disgraceful is good. They also say that to benefit a person is to move them toward virtue or keep them in accordance with virtue. To harm a person is to move them toward vice or keep them in accordance with vice.

They also assert, that things indifferent are so spoken of in a twofold manner; firstly, those things are called so, which have no influence in producing either happiness or unhappiness; such for instance, as riches, glory, health, strength, and the like; for it is possible for a man to be happy without any of these things; and also, it is upon the character of the use that is made of them, that happiness or unhappiness depends. In another sense, those things are called indifferent, which do not excite any inclination or aversion, as for instance, the fact of a man’s having an odd or an even number of hairs on his head, or his putting out or drawing back his finger; for it is not in this sense that the things previously mentioned are called indifferent, for they do excite inclination or aversion. On which account some of them are chosen, though there is equal reason for preferring or shunning all the others.

They also say that things are called indifferent in two senses. First, things are indifferent if they do not themselves produce either happiness or unhappiness. Examples include wealth, fame, health, strength, and similar things. A person can be happy without any of them. Happiness or unhappiness also depends on how a person uses them. In another sense, things are indifferent if they inspire neither attraction nor aversion. Examples include having an odd or even number of hairs on one’s head, or extending or withdrawing a finger. The things mentioned earlier are not indifferent in this sense, because they do inspire attraction or aversion. For this reason, some of them are chosen, though there is equal reason to prefer or avoid all the others.

LXI. Again, of things indifferent, they call some preferred (προηγμένα), and others rejected (ἀποπροηγμένα). Those are preferred, which have some proper value (ἀξίαν), and those are rejected, which have no value at all (ἀπαξίαν ἔχοντα). And by the term proper value, they mean that quality of things, which causes them to concur in producing a well-regulated life; and in this sense, every good has a proper value. Again, they say that a thing has value, when in some point of view, it has a sort of intermediate power of aiding us to live conformably to nature; and under this class, we may range riches or good health, if they give any assistance to natural life. Again, value is predicated of the price which one gives for the attainment of an object, which some one, who has experience of the object sought, fixes as its fair price; as if we were to say, for instance, that as some wheat was to be exchanged for barley, with a mule thrown in to make up the difference. Those goods then are preferred, which have a value, as in the case of the mental goods, ability, skill, improvement, and the like; and in the case of the corporeal goods, life, health, strength, a good constitution, soundness, beauty; and in the case of external goods, riches, glory, nobility of birth, and the like.

LXI. Again, among things that are indifferent, they call some preferred (προηγμένα) and others rejected (ἀποπροηγμένα). Preferred things have some proper value (ἀξίαν), while rejected things have no value at all (ἀπαξίαν ἔχοντα). By proper value, they mean the quality that allows things to help produce a well-regulated life. In this sense, every good thing has proper value. Again, they say a thing has value when, in some respect, it has an intermediate power to help us live according to nature. Riches or good health may fall into this class, if they help us live naturally. Value also means the price paid to obtain something. Someone with experience of the thing sought sets this price as a fair one. For example, wheat might be exchanged for barley, with a mule added to make up the difference. Preferred things, then, are those that have value. Among mental goods, these include ability, skill, improvement, and the like. Among bodily goods, they include life, health, strength, a good constitution, soundness, and beauty. Among external goods, they include riches, glory, noble birth, and the like.

Rejected things are, in the case of qualities of the mind, stupidity, unskilfulness, and the like; in the case of circumstances affecting the body, death, disease, weakness, a bad constitution, mutilation, disgrace, and the like; in the case of external circumstances, poverty, want of reputation, ignoble birth, and the like. But those qualities and circumstances which are indifferent, are neither preferred nor rejected. Again, of things preferred, some are preferred for their own sakes, some for the sake of other things, and some partly for their own sakes and partly for that of other things. Those which are preferred for their own sakes, are ability, improvement, and the like; those which are preferred for the sake of other things, are wealth, nobility of birth, and the like; those which are preferred partly for their own sake, and partly for that of something else, are strength, vigour of the senses, universal soundness, and the like; for they are preferred, for their own sakes, inasmuch as they are in accordance with nature; and for the sake of something else, inasmuch as they are productive of no small number of advantages; and the same is the case in the inverse ratio, with those things which are rejected.

Among qualities of the mind, rejected things include stupidity, lack of skill, and the like. Among conditions affecting the body, they include death, disease, weakness, a poor constitution, mutilation, disgrace, and the like. Among external circumstances, they include poverty, lack of reputation, low birth, and the like. But indifferent qualities and circumstances are neither preferred nor rejected. Again, some preferred things are preferred for their own sake, some for the sake of other things, and some for both reasons. Ability, improvement, and the like are preferred for their own sake. Wealth, noble birth, and the like are preferred for the sake of other things. Strength, sharp senses, overall soundness, and the like are preferred both for their own sake and for something else. They are preferred for their own sake because they accord with nature. They are also preferred for the sake of something else because they produce many advantages. The same applies in reverse to rejected things.

LXII. Again, they say that that is duty, which is preferred, and which contains in itself reasonable arguments why we should prefer it; as for instance, its corresponding to the nature of life itself; and this argument extends to plants and animals, for even their nature is subject to the obligation of certain duties. And duty (τὸ καθῆκον) had this name given to it by Zeno, in the first instance, its appellation being derived from its coming to, or according to some people, ἀπὸ τοῦ κατά τινας ἥκειν; and its effect is something kindred to the preparations made by nature. Now of the things done according to inclination, some are duties, and some are contrary to duty; and some are neither duties nor contrary to duty. Those are duties, which reason selects to do, as for instance, to honour one’s parents, one’s brothers, one’s country, to gratify one’s friends. Those actions are contrary to duty, which reason does not choose; as for instance, to neglect one’s parents, to be indifferent to one’s brothers, to shirk assisting one’s friends, to be careless about the welfare of one’s country, and so on. Those are neither duties, nor contrary to duty, which reason neither selects to do, nor, on the other hand, repudiates, such actions, for instance, as to pick up straw, to hold a pen, or a comb, or things of that sort.

LXII. Again, they say that duty is what we should choose, and that it contains reasonable grounds for choosing it. For example, duty is in keeping with the nature of life itself. This argument extends to plants and animals, since their nature also places them under certain duties. Zeno was the first to give duty (τὸ καθῆκον) this name. The name comes from its “coming to,” or, according to some people, ἀπὸ τοῦ κατά τινας ἥκειν. The effect of duty is akin to what nature prepares. Of the things done from inclination, some are duties, some are contrary to duty, and some are neither. Duties are actions that reason chooses, such as honoring one’s parents, brothers, and country, and pleasing one’s friends. Actions contrary to duty are those that reason does not choose. Examples include neglecting one’s parents, being indifferent to one’s brothers, failing to help one’s friends, and ignoring one’s country’s welfare. Actions that are neither duties nor contrary to duty are those that reason neither chooses nor rejects. Examples include picking up straw, holding a pen or a comb, and similar actions.

Again, there are some duties which do not depend on circumstances, and some which do. These do not depend on circumstances, to take care of one’s health, and of the sound state of one’s senses, and the like. Those which do depend on circumstances, are the mutilation of one’s members, the sacrificing of one’s property, and so on. And the case of those actions which are contrary to duty, is similar. Again, of duties, some are always such, and some are not always. What is always a duty, is to live in accordance with virtue; but to ask questions, to give answers, to walk, and the like, are not always duties. And the same statement holds good with respect to acts contrary to duty.

Again, some duties do not depend on circumstances, while others do. Duties that do not depend on circumstances include taking care of one’s health and keeping one’s senses in good condition. Duties that depend on circumstances include mutilating one’s limbs and giving up one’s property. The same distinction applies to actions that are contrary to duty. Again, some duties are always duties, while others are not. Living according to virtue is always a duty. But asking questions, giving answers, walking, and similar actions are not always duties. The same is true of actions contrary to duty.

There is also a class of intermediate duties, such as the duty of boys obeying their masters.

There is also a class of intermediate duties, such as the duty of boys to obey their teachers.

LXIII. The Stoics also say that the mind is divisible into eight parts; for that the five organs of sensation, and the vocal power, and the intellectual power, which is the mind itself, and the generative power, are all parts of the mind. But by error, there is produced a perversion which operates on the intellect, from which many perturbations arise, and many causes of inconstancy. And all perturbation is itself, according to Zeno, a movement of the mind, or superfluous inclination, which is irrational, and contrary to nature. Moreover, of the superior class of perturbations, as Hecaton says, in the second book of his treatise on the Passions, and as Zeno also says in his work on the Passions, there are four kinds, grief, fear, desire, and pleasure. And they consider that these perturbations are judgments, as Chrysippus contends in his work on the Passions; for covetousness is an opinion that money is a beautiful object, and in like manner drunkenness and intemperance, and other things of the sort, are judgments. And grief they define to be an irrational contraction of the mind, and it is divided into the following species, pity, envy, emulation, jealousy, pain, perturbation, sorrow, anguish, confusion. Pity is a grief over some one, on the ground of his being in undeserved distress. Envy is a grief, at the good fortune of another. Emulation is a grief at that belonging to some one else, which one desires one’s self. Jealousy is a grief at another also having what one has one’s self. Pain is a grief which weighs one down. Perturbation is grief which narrows one, and causes one to feel in a strait. Sorrow is a grief arising from deliberate thought, which endures for some time, and gradually increases. Anguish is a grief with acute pain. Confusion is an irrational grief, which frets one, and prevents one from clearly discerning present circumstances. But fear is the expectation of evil; and the following feelings are all classed under the head of fear: apprehension, hesitation, shame, perplexity, trepidation, and anxiety. Apprehension is a fear which produces alarm. Shame is a fear of discredit. Hesitation is a fear of coming activity. Perplexity is a fear, from the imagination of some unusual thing. Trepidation is a fear accompanied with an oppression of the voice. Anxiety is a fear of some uncertain event.

LXIII. The Stoics also say that the mind can be divided into eight parts. These are the five organs of sensation, the power of speech, the intellectual power, which is the mind itself, and the power of reproduction. But error produces a distortion that affects the intellect. From this distortion arise many disturbances and many causes of inconsistency. According to Zeno, every disturbance is a movement of the mind, or an excessive impulse, that is irrational and contrary to nature. Hecaton discusses the main classes of disturbance in the second book of his treatise on the Passions. Zeno also discusses them in his work on the Passions. Both say there are four kinds: grief, fear, desire, and pleasure. The Stoics consider these disturbances to be judgments, as Chrysippus argues in his work on the Passions. For greed is the belief that money is a beautiful thing. In the same way, drunkenness, intemperance, and other such things are judgments. The Stoics define grief as an irrational contraction of the mind. They divide it into the following kinds: pity, envy, emulation, jealousy, pain, perturbation, sorrow, anguish, and confusion. Pity is grief for someone who is suffering undeservedly. Envy is grief at another person's good fortune. Emulation is grief because someone else has what one wants for oneself. Jealousy is grief because another person also has what one has. Pain is grief that weighs one down. Perturbation is grief that constricts one and makes one feel trapped. Sorrow is grief arising from deliberate thought that lasts for some time and gradually increases. Anguish is grief accompanied by acute pain. Confusion is irrational grief that distresses one and prevents one from clearly understanding present circumstances. Fear, on the other hand, is the expectation of evil. The following feelings are all classed as kinds of fear: apprehension, hesitation, shame, perplexity, trepidation, and anxiety. Apprehension is fear that produces alarm. Shame is fear of disgrace. Hesitation is fear of an action one is about to take. Perplexity is fear arising from the thought of something unusual. Trepidation is fear that constricts the voice. Anxiety is fear of an uncertain event.

Again, desire is an irrational appetite; to which head, the following feelings are referrible: want, hatred, contentiousness, anger, love, enmity, rage. Want is a desire arising from our not having something or other, and is, as it were, separated from the thing, but is still stretching, and attracted towards it in vain. And hatred is a desire that it should be ill with some one, accompanied with a certain continual increase and extension. Contentiousness is a certain desire accompanied with deliberate choice. Anger is a desire of revenge, on a person who appears to have injured one in an unbecoming way. Love is a desire not conversant about a virtuous object, for it is an attempt to conciliate affection, because of some beauty which is seen. Enmity is a certain anger of long duration, and full of hatred, and it is a watchful passion, as is shown in the following lines:—

Desire, again, is an irrational appetite. The following feelings fall under it: want, hatred, contentiousness, anger, love, enmity, and rage. Want is a desire that arises because we lack something. It is, as it were, separated from the thing, but still reaches toward it and is drawn toward it in vain. Hatred is a desire for someone to suffer, accompanied by a continual growth and spreading of that desire. Contentiousness is a desire accompanied by deliberate choice. Anger is a desire for revenge against someone who seems to have injured us in an improper way. Love is not a desire for a virtuous object. It is an attempt to win affection because of beauty one sees. Enmity is a long-lasting anger, full of hatred. It is a watchful passion, as the following lines show:

For though we deem the short-liv’d fury past, ’Tis sure the mighty will revenge at last.

Though we think the brief fury has passed, The powerful will surely take revenge in the end.

Hom. Il. I. 81. Pope’s Version, l. 105.

But rage is anger at its commencement.

But rage is anger in its early stages.

Again, pleasure is an irrational elation of the mind over something which appears to be desirable; and its different species are enjoyment, rejoicing at evil, delight, and extravagant joy. Enjoyment now, is a pleasure which charms the mind through the ears. Rejoicing at evil (ἐπιχαιρεκακία), is a pleasure which arises at the misfortunes of others. Delight (τέρψις), that is to say turning (τρέψις), is a certain turning of the soul (προτροπή τις ψυχῆς), to softness. Extravagant joy is the dissolution of virtue. And as there are said to be some sicknesses (ἀῤῥωστήματα), in the body, as, for instance, gout and arthritic disorders; so too are those diseases of the soul, such as a fondness for glory, or for pleasure, and other feelings of that sort. For an ἀῤῥώστημα is a disease accompanied with weakness; and a disease is an opinion of something which appears exceedingly desirable. And, as in the case of the body, there are illnesses to which people are especially liable, such as colds or diarrhœa; so also are there propensities which the mind is under the influence of, such as enviousness, pitifulness, quarrelsomeness, and so on.

Again, pleasure is an irrational elation of the mind over something that appears desirable. Its different kinds are enjoyment, rejoicing at evil, delight, and extravagant joy. Enjoyment is a pleasure that charms the mind through the ears. Rejoicing at evil (ἐπιχαιρεκακία) is pleasure arising from the misfortunes of others. Delight (τέρψις), meaning turning (τρέψις), is a kind of turning of the soul (προτροπή τις ψυχῆς) toward softness. Extravagant joy is the dissolution of virtue. Just as the body is said to have sicknesses (ἀῤῥωστήματα), such as gout and arthritic disorders, the soul also has diseases. These include a love of glory or pleasure, and other feelings of that kind. An ἀῤῥώστημα is a disease accompanied by weakness. A disease is an opinion that something appears exceedingly desirable. And just as people are especially prone to bodily illnesses such as colds or diarrhea, the mind is also subject to certain tendencies. These include envy, a tendency to feel pity, quarrelsomeness, and so on.

There are also three good dispositions of the mind; joy, caution, and will. And joy they say is the opposite of pleasure, since it is a rational elation of the mind; so caution is the opposite of fear, being a rational avoidance of anything, for the wise man will never be afraid, but he will act with caution; and will, they define as the opposite of desire, since it is a rational wish. As therefore some things fall under the class of the first perturbations, in the same manner do some things fall under the class of the first good dispositions. And accordingly, under the head of will, are classed goodwill, placidity, salutation, affection; and under the head of caution are ranged reverence and modesty; under the head of joy, we speak of delight, mirth, and good spirits.

There are also three good states of mind: joy, caution, and will. They say joy is the opposite of pleasure because it is a rational sense of elation. Caution is the opposite of fear because it is a rational way of avoiding things. A wise person will never be afraid, but will act with caution. They define will as the opposite of desire because it is a rational wish. Just as some feelings fall under the primary disturbances of mind, others fall under the primary good states of mind. Under will, they class goodwill, calmness, greeting, and affection. Under caution, they class reverence and modesty. Under joy, they class delight, mirth, and good spirits.

LXIV. They say also, that the wise man is free from perturbations, because he has no strong propensities. But that this freedom from propensities also exists in the bad man, being, however, then quite another thing, inasmuch as it proceeds in him only from the hardness and unimpressibility of his nature. They also pronounce the wise man free from vanity, since he regards with equal eye what is glorious and what is inglorious. At the same time, they admit that there is another character devoid of vanity, who, however, is only reckoned one of the rash men, being in fact the bad man. They also say that all the virtuous men are austere, because they do never speak with reference to pleasure, nor do they listen to what is said by others with reference to pleasure. At the same time, they call another man austere too, using the term in nearly the same sense as they do when they speak of austere wine, which is used in compounding medicines, but not for drinking.

LXIV. They also say that the wise man is free from emotional disturbance because he has no strong inclinations. But the bad man can also lack strong inclinations. This is quite different, however, because it comes only from his hard, unresponsive nature. They also say that the wise man is free from vanity because he regards glory and disgrace equally. At the same time, they admit that another kind of person lacks vanity. This person is the bad man, who is merely counted among the rash. They also say that all virtuous people are austere because they never speak for the sake of pleasure. Nor do they listen to what others say for the sake of pleasure. At the same time, they call another kind of person austere, too. They use the word in nearly the same sense as when they speak of austere wine, which is used to make medicines but not for drinking.

They also pronounce the wise to be honest-hearted men, anxiously attending to those matters which may make them better, by means of some principle which conceals what is bad, and brings to light what is good. Nor is there any hypocrisy about them; for they cut off all pretence in their voice and appearance. They also keep aloof from business; for they guard carefully against doing any thing contrary to their duty. They drink wine, but they do not get drunk; and they never yield to frenzy. Occasionally, extraordinary imaginations may obtain a momentary power over them, owing to some melancholy or trifling, arising not according to the principle of what is desirable, but contrary to nature. Nor, again, will the wise man feel grief; because grief is an irrational contraction of the soul, as Apollodorus defines it in his Ethics.

They also say that wise people are sincere and take care to become better. They do this through a principle that conceals what is bad and reveals what is good. They are not hypocrites, for they remove all pretense from their speech and appearance. They also stay away from business, because they guard against doing anything contrary to their duty. They drink wine, but they do not get drunk or give in to frenzy. Occasionally, extraordinary imaginings may briefly gain power over them because of some melancholy or triviality. These imaginings do not arise according to the principle of what is desirable, but contrary to nature. Nor will a wise person feel grief, because grief is an irrational contraction of the soul. That is how Apollodorus defines grief in his Ethics.

They are also, as they say, godlike; for they have something in them which is as it were a God. But the bad man is an atheist. Now there are two kinds of atheists; one who speaks in a spirit of hostility to, and the other, who utterly disregards, the divine nature; but they admit that all bad men are not atheists in this last sense. The good, on the contrary, are pious; for they have a thorough acquaintance with the laws respecting the Gods. And piety is a knowledge of the proper reverence and worship due to the Gods. Moreover they sacrifice to the Gods, and keep themselves pure; for they avoid all offences having reference to the Gods, and the Gods admire them; for they are holy and just in all that concerns the Deity; and the wise men are the only priests; for they consider the matters relating to sacrifices, and the erection of temples, and purifications, and all other things which peculiarly concern the Gods. They also pronounce that men are bound to honour their parents, and their brethren, in the second place after the Gods. They also say that parental affection for one’s children is natural to them, and is a feeling which does not exist in bad men. And they lay down the position that all offences are equal, as Chrysippus argues in the fourth book of his Ethic Questions, and so say Persæus and Zeno. For if one thing that is true is not more true than another thing that is true, neither is one thing that is false more false than another thing that is false; so too, one deceit is not greater than another, nor one sin than another. For the man who is a hundred furlongs from Canopus, and the man who is only one, are both equally not in Canopus; and so too, he who commits a greater sin, and he who commits a less, are both equally not in the right path.

They are also godlike, they say, because they have something like a God within them. But the bad man is an atheist. There are two kinds of atheists. One is hostile to the divine nature, while the other utterly disregards it. But they admit that not all bad men are atheists in the second sense. The good, by contrast, are pious because they know the laws concerning the Gods thoroughly. Piety is knowledge of the reverence and worship due to the Gods. The good also sacrifice to the Gods and keep themselves pure, because they avoid all offenses against the Gods. The Gods admire them because they are holy and just in all that concerns the Gods. Wise men alone are priests, because they give thought to sacrifices, the building of temples, purifications, and everything else especially concerning the Gods. They also declare that people must honor their parents and siblings, second only to the Gods. They say, too, that parents naturally feel affection for their children, but bad people do not feel it. They maintain that all offenses are equal. Chrysippus argues this in the fourth book of his Ethic Questions, and Persæus and Zeno say the same. One truth is no more true than another, and one falsehood is no more false than another. So, too, one deceit is no greater than another, nor is one sin greater than another. A man who is a hundred furlongs from Canopus is just as much outside Canopus as a man one furlong away. Likewise, a man who commits a greater sin is just as far from being on the right path as one who commits a lesser sin.

Heraclides of Tarsus, indeed, the friend of Antipater, of Tarsus, and Athenodorus, both assert that offences are not equal.

Heraclides of Tarsus was a friend of Antipater of Tarsus. Both Heraclides and Athenodorus maintain that offenses are not equal.

Again, the Stoics, as for instance, Chrysippus, in the first book of his work on Lives, say, that the wise man will take a part in the affairs of the state, if nothing hinders him. For that he will restrain vice, and excite men to virtue. Also, they say that he will marry, as Zeno says, in his Republic, and beget children. Moreover, that the wise man will never form mere opinions, that is to say, he will never agree to anything that is false; and that he will become a Cynic; for that Cynicism is a short path to virtue, as Apollodorus calls it in his Ethics; that he will even eat human flesh, if there should be occasion; that he is the only free man, and that the bad are slaves; for that freedom is a power of independent action, but slavery a deprivation of the same. That there is besides, another slavery, which consists in subjection, and a third which consists in possession and subjection; the contrary of which is masterhood, which is likewise bad.

The Stoics also say that a wise man will take part in public affairs if nothing prevents him. Chrysippus says this in the first book of his work on Lives. The wise man will restrain vice and encourage people to be virtuous. They also say that he will marry and have children, as Zeno says in his Republic. A wise man will never hold mere opinions, meaning that he will never accept anything false. He will also become a Cynic, because Cynicism is a short path to virtue, as Apollodorus calls it in his Ethics. He will even eat human flesh if the occasion calls for it. He alone is free, while bad people are slaves. Freedom is the power to act independently, while slavery is the loss of that power. There is also another kind of slavery, which consists in being subject to another person, and a third, which consists in being both owned by and subject to another person. The opposite of this third kind is being a master, which is also bad.

And they say, that not only are the wise free, but that they are also kings, since kingly power is an irresponsible dominion, which can only exist in the case of the wise man, as Chrysippus says in his treatise on the Proper Application of his Terms made by Zeno; for he says that a ruler ought to give decisions on good and evil, and that none of the wicked understand these things. In the same way, they assert that they are the only people who are fit to be magistrates or judges, or orators, and that none of the bad are qualified for these tasks. Moreover, that they are free from all error, in consequence of their not being prone to any wrong actions. Also, that they are unconnected with injury, for that they never injure any one else, nor themselves. Also, that they are not pitiful, and that they never make allowance for any one; for that they do not relax the punishments appointed by law, since yielding, and pity, and mercifulness itself, never exist in any of their souls, so as to induce an affectation of kindness in respect of punishment; nor do they ever think any punishment too severe. Again, they say that the wise man never wonders at any of the things which appear extraordinary; as for instance, at the stories about Charon, or the ebbing of the tide, or the springs of hot water, or the bursting forth of flames. But, say they further, the wise man will not live in solitude; for he is by nature sociable and practical. Accordingly, he will take exercise for the sake of hardening and invigorating his body. And the wise man will pray, asking good things from the Gods, as Posidonius says in the first book of his treatise on Duties, and Hecaton says the same thing in the thirteenth book of his treatise on Extraordinary Things.

They say that the wise are not only free but also kings. Kingly power is rule without accountability, and only a wise person can exercise it. Chrysippus says this in his treatise on the Proper Application of his Terms made by Zeno. He says that a ruler must judge what is good and evil, and that none of the wicked understand these things. In the same way, they claim that only the wise are fit to be magistrates, judges, or orators. None of the bad are qualified for these roles. They also say that the wise are free from all error because they are not prone to wrongdoing. They do no injury, since they never harm anyone else or themselves. They do not feel pity or make allowances for anyone. They do not lessen the punishments prescribed by law. For their souls contain no tendency to yield, no pity, and no mercy that might make them show kindness in punishment. Nor do they ever think any punishment too severe. Again, they say that the wise person never marvels at things that seem extraordinary. These include the stories about Charon, the ebbing tide, hot springs, and flames bursting from the earth. But they also say that the wise person will not live in solitude, because he is sociable and practical by nature. He will therefore exercise to toughen and strengthen his body. He will also pray, asking the Gods for good things. Posidonius says this in the first book of his treatise on Duties. Hecaton says the same in the thirteenth book of his treatise on Extraordinary Things.

They also say, that friendship exists in the virtuous alone, on account of their resemblance to one another. And they describe friendship itself as a certain communion of the things which concern life, since we use our friends as ourselves. And they assert that a friend is desirable for his own sake, and that a number of friends is a good; and that among the wicked there is no such thing as friendship, and that no wicked man can have a friend.

They also say that friendship exists only among virtuous people, because they are alike. They describe friendship as a sharing of the things that matter in life, since we treat our friends as ourselves. They say that a friend is desirable for their own sake, and that having many friends is good. They also say that there is no friendship among wicked people, and that no wicked person can have a friend.

Again, they say that all the foolish are mad; for that they are not prudent, and that madness is equivalent to folly in every one of its actions; but that the wise man does everything properly, just as we say that Ismenias can play every piece of flute-music well. Also, they say that everything belongs to the wise man, for that the law has given them perfect and universal power; but some things also are said to belong to the wicked, just in the same manner as some things are said to belong to the unjust, or as a house is said to belong to a city in a different sense from that in which a thing belongs to the person who uses it.

They also say that all foolish people are mad because they lack good judgment. Madness, they say, is the same as folly in every action. But the wise person does everything properly, just as we say that Ismenias can play every piece of flute music well. They also say that everything belongs to the wise person because the law has given wise people complete power over everything. But some things are also said to belong to the wicked, just as some things are said to belong to the unjust. This is like saying that a house belongs to a city, rather than to the person who uses it.

LXV. And they say that virtues reciprocally follow one another, and that he who has one has all; for that the precepts of them all are common, as Chrysippus affirms in the first book of his treatise on Laws; and Apollodorus, in his Natural Philosophy, according to the ancient system; and Hecaton, in the third book of his treatise on Virtues. For they say that the man who is endued with virtue, is able to consider and also to do what must be done. But what must be done must be chosen, and encountered, and distributed, and awaited; so that if the man does some things by deliberate choice, and some in a spirit of endurance, and some distributively, and some patiently; he is prudent, and courageous, and just, and temperate. And each of the virtues has a particular subject of its own, about which it is conversant; as, for instance, courage is conversant about the things which must be endured: prudence is conversant about what must be done and what must not, and what is of a neutral or indifferent character. And in like manner, the other virtues are conversant about their own peculiar subjects; and wisdom in counsel and shrewdness follow prudence; and good order and decorum follow temperance; and equality and goodness of judgment follow justice; and constancy and energy follow courage.

LXV. They say that the virtues go together, and that anyone who has one has them all. This is because the same principles apply to all the virtues. Chrysippus says this in the first book of his treatise on Laws. So do Apollodorus in his Natural Philosophy, according to the ancient system, and Hecaton in the third book of his treatise on Virtues. They say that a virtuous person can both consider and do what must be done. But what must be done must be chosen, faced, distributed, and waited for. So if a person does some things by deliberate choice, some with endurance, some by distributing, and some with patience, that person is prudent, courageous, just, and temperate. Each virtue also has its own particular subject. For example, courage concerns things that must be endured. Prudence concerns what must be done, what must not be done, and what is neither required nor forbidden. In the same way, the other virtues concern their own particular subjects. Wisdom in counsel and shrewdness follow prudence. Good order and decorum follow temperance. Equality and good judgment follow justice. Constancy and energy follow courage.

Another doctrine of the Stoics is, that there is nothing intermediate between virtue and vice; while the Peripatetics assert that there is a stage between virtue and vice, being an improvement on vice which has not yet arrived at virtue. For the Stoics say, that as a stick must be either straight or crooked, so a man must be either just or unjust, and cannot be more just than just, or more unjust than unjust; and that the same rule applies to all cases. Moreover, Chrysippus is of opinion that virtue can be lost, but Cleanthes affirms that it cannot; the one saying that it can be lost by drunkenness or melancholy, the other maintaining that it cannot be lost on account of the firm perceptions which it implants in men. They also pronounce it a proper object of choice; accordingly, we are ashamed of actions which we do improperly, while we are aware that what is honourable is the only good. Again, they affirm that it is of itself sufficient for happiness, as Zeno says, and he is followed in this assertion by Chrysippus in the first book of his treatise on Virtues, and by Hecaton in the second book of his treatise on Goods.

The Stoics also teach that there is nothing between virtue and vice. The Peripatetics, however, say that there is a stage between them. This stage is an improvement on vice, but it has not yet reached virtue. The Stoics say that a stick must be either straight or crooked. In the same way, a person must be either just or unjust. A person cannot be more just than just, or more unjust than unjust. The Stoics say that the same rule applies in every case. Chrysippus believes that virtue can be lost, but Cleanthes says that it cannot. Chrysippus says it can be lost through drunkenness or melancholy. Cleanthes maintains that it cannot be lost because of the firm convictions it instills in people. The Stoics also say that virtue is worthy of being chosen. Accordingly, we are ashamed of actions we perform improperly, while we know that what is honorable is the only good. They also say that virtue alone is enough for happiness. Zeno says this, and Chrysippus agrees in the first book of his treatise on Virtues. Hecaton also agrees in the second book of his treatise on Goods.

“For if,” says he, “magnanimity be sufficient of itself to enable us to act in a manner superior to all other men; and if that is a part of virtue, then virtue is of itself sufficient for happiness, despising all things which seem troublesome to it.” However, Panætius and Posidonius do not admit that virtue has this sufficiency of itself, but say that there is also need of good health, and competency, and strength. And their opinion is that a man exercises virtue in everything, as Cleanthes asserts, for it cannot be lost; and the virtuous man on every occasion exercises his soul, which is in a state of perfection.

“For if,” he says, “magnanimity alone enables us to act better than all other people, and if magnanimity is part of virtue, then virtue alone is enough for happiness. It makes light of everything that seems troublesome.” However, Panætius and Posidonius do not agree that virtue alone is enough. They say that good health, adequate means, and strength are also necessary. They believe, as Cleanthes asserts, that a person exercises virtue in everything, because virtue cannot be lost. And on every occasion, a virtuous person exercises their soul, which is in a state of perfection.

LXVI. Again, they say that justice exists by nature, and not because of any definition or principle; just as law does, or right reason, as Chrysippus tells us in his treatise on the Beautiful; and they think that one ought not to abandon philosophy on account of the different opinions prevailing among philosophers, since on this principle one would wholly quit life, as Posidonius argues in his Exhortatory Essays. Another doctrine of Chrysippus is, that general learning is very useful.

LXVI. They also say that justice exists by nature, not because of any definition or principle. The same is true of law and right reason, as Chrysippus says in his treatise on the Beautiful. They think people should not give up philosophy because philosophers hold different opinions. As Posidonius argues in his Exhortatory Essays, following that principle would mean giving up life altogether. Chrysippus also teaches that general learning is very useful.

And the School in general maintain that there are no obligations of justice binding on us with reference to other animals, on account of their dissimilarity to us, as Chrysippus asserts in the first book of his treatise on Justice, and the same opinion is maintained by Posidonius in the first book of his treatise on Duty. They say too, that the wise man will love those young men, who by their outward appearance, show a natural aptitude for virtue; and this opinion is advanced by Zeno, in his Republic, and by Chrysippus in the first book of his work on Lives, and by Apollodorus in his Ethics. And they describe love as an endeavour to benefit a friend on account of his visible beauty; and that it is an attribute not of acquaintanceship, but of friendship. Accordingly, that Thrasonides, although he had his mistress in his power, abstained from her, because he was hated by her. Love, therefore, according to them is a part of friendship, as Chrysippus asserts in his essay on Love; and it is not blameable. Moreover, beauty is the flower of virtue.

The School generally holds that we have no obligations of justice toward other animals because they are unlike us. Chrysippus makes this claim in the first book of his treatise on Justice. Posidonius holds the same view in the first book of his treatise on Duty. The School also says that the wise man will love young men whose appearance shows a natural aptitude for virtue. Zeno puts forward this view in his Republic, as do Chrysippus in the first book of Lives and Apollodorus in his Ethics. They describe love as an attempt to benefit a friend because of his visible beauty. Love, they say, belongs to friendship, not mere acquaintance. Thus Thrasonides, although he had his mistress in his power, abstained from her because she hated him. According to the School, then, love is part of friendship, as Chrysippus asserts in his essay on Love. It is not blameworthy. Moreover, beauty is the flower of virtue.

And as there are three kinds of lives; the theoretical, the practical, and the logical; they say that the last is the one which ought to be chosen. For that a logical, that is a rational, animal was made by nature on purpose for speculation and action. And they say that a wise man will very rationally take himself out of life, either for the sake of his country or of his friends, or if he be in bitter pain, or under the affliction of mutilation, or incurable disease. And they also teach that women ought to be in common among the wise, so that whoever meets with any one may enjoy her, and this doctrine is maintained by Zeno in his Republic, and by Chrysippus in his treatise on Polity, and by Diogenes the Cynic, and by Plato; and then, say they, we shall love all boys equally after the manner of fathers, and all suspicion on the ground of undue familiarity will be removed.

They say there are three kinds of life: the theoretical, the practical, and the logical. They say we should choose the last. For nature made humans rational beings, specifically for thought and action. They also say that a wise person may reasonably choose to end his own life for his country or friends. He may also do so if he suffers bitter pain, mutilation, or an incurable disease. They also teach that women should be shared among the wise, so that anyone who meets a woman may have sex with her. Zeno supports this doctrine in his Republic, as do Chrysippus in his treatise on Polity, Diogenes the Cynic, and Plato. They say that, as a result, we shall love all boys equally, as fathers do. All suspicion of improper intimacy will also be removed.

They affirm too, that the best of political constitutions is a mixed one, combined of democracy, and kingly power, and aristocracy. And they say many things of this sort, and more too, in their Ethical Dogmas, and they maintain them by suitable explanations and arguments. But this may be enough for us to say of their doctrines on this head by way of summary, and taking them in an elementary manner.

They also say that the best political constitution combines democracy, monarchy, and aristocracy. In their Ethical Dogmas, they say many things like this and more, supporting them with suitable explanations and arguments. But this brief, basic summary of their doctrines on this subject may be enough for us.

LXVII. They divide natural philosophy into the topics of bodies, and of principles, and of elements, and of Gods, and of boundaries, and of place, and of the vacuum. And they make these divisions according to species; but according to genera they divide them into three topics, that of the world, that of the elements, and the third is that which reasons on causes. The topic about the world, they say, is subdivided into two parts. For that in one point of view, the mathematicians also have a share in it; and according to it it is that they prosecute their investigations into the nature of the fixed stars and the planets; as, for instance, whether the sun is of such a size as he appears to be, and similarly, whether the moon is; and in the same way they investigate the question of spherical motion, and others of the same character. The other point of view is that which is reserved exclusively for natural philosophers, according to which it is that the existence and substance of things are examined, [for instance, whether the sun and the stars consist of matter and form,] and whether the sun is born or not born, whether it is living or lifeless, corruptible or incorruptible, whether it is regulated by Providence, and other questions of this kind.

LXVII. They divide natural philosophy into the study of bodies, principles, elements, Gods, boundaries, place, and the vacuum. These are its divisions by species. By genus, they divide it into three topics: the world, the elements, and reasoning about causes. They say that the study of the world has two parts. Mathematicians also take part in one of these. They investigate the nature of the fixed stars and the planets. For example, they ask whether the sun and moon are as large as they appear. They also investigate spherical motion and similar questions. The other part is reserved exclusively for natural philosophers. They examine the existence and substance of things, [for example, whether the sun and stars consist of matter and form]. They also ask whether the sun is born or not, whether it is living or lifeless, and whether it is corruptible or incorruptible. They ask whether it is governed by Providence, as well as other questions of this kind.

The topic which examines into causes they say is also divisible into two parts; and with reference to one of its considerations, the investigations of physicians partake of it; according to which it is that they investigate the dominant principle of the soul, and the things which exist in the soul, and seeds, and things of this kind. And its other division is claimed as belonging to them also by the mathematicians, as, for instance, how we see, what is the cause of our appearance being reflected in a mirror, how clouds are collected, how thunder is produced, and the rainbow, and the halo, and comets, and things of that kind.

They say that the study of causes can also be divided into two parts. One part includes investigations undertaken by physicians. They investigate the governing principle of the soul, what exists within the soul, seeds, and similar things. Mathematicians also claim the other part as their own. It includes questions such as how we see, what causes our image to appear in a mirror, how clouds gather, and how thunder, rainbows, halos, comets, and similar things are produced.

LXVIII. They think that there are two general principles in the universe, the active and the passive. That the passive is matter, an existence without any distinctive quality. That the active is the reason which exists in the passive, that is to say, God. For that he, being eternal, and existing throughout all matter, makes everything. And Zeno, the Cittiæan, lays down this doctrine in his treatise on Essence, and so does Cleanthes in his essay on Atoms, Chrysippus in the first book of his Investigations in Natural Philosophy, towards the end, Archedemus in his work on Elements, and Posidonius in the second book of his treatise on Natural Philosophy. But they say that principles and elements differ from one another. For that the one had no generation or beginning, and will have no end; but that the elements may be destroyed by the operation of fire. Also, that the elements are bodies, but principles have no bodies and no forms, and elements too have forms.

LXVIII. They believe that the universe has two general principles, the active and the passive. The passive principle is matter, which has no distinctive quality. The active principle is the reason that exists in matter, namely God. For God is eternal and exists throughout all matter, and he makes everything. Zeno, the Cittiæan, sets out this doctrine in his treatise on Essence. Cleanthes also sets it out in his essay on Atoms. So does Chrysippus, near the end of the first book of his Investigations in Natural Philosophy. Archedemus does the same in his work on Elements, as does Posidonius in the second book of his treatise on Natural Philosophy. But they say that principles differ from elements. Principles have no origin or beginning, and they will have no end. Elements, however, may be destroyed by fire. Elements are also bodies and have forms, while principles have neither bodies nor forms.

Now a body, says Apollodorus in his Natural Philosophy, is extended in a threefold manner; in length, in breadth, in depth; and then it is called a solid body; and the superficies is the limit of the body having length and breadth alone, but not depth. But Posidonius, in the third book of his Heavenly Phænomena, will not allow a superficies either any substantial reality, or any intelligible existence. A line is the limit of a superficies, or length without breadth, or something which has nothing but length. A point is the boundary of a line, and is the smallest of all symbols.

Apollodorus says in his Natural Philosophy that a body extends in three dimensions: length, breadth, and depth. A body with these dimensions is called a solid body. A surface is the boundary of a body. It has length and breadth, but no depth. But Posidonius says in the third book of his Heavenly Phænomena that a surface has neither substantial reality nor intelligible existence. A line is the boundary of a surface. It is length without breadth, or something that has nothing but length. A point is the boundary of a line and the smallest of all symbols.

They also teach that God is unity, and that he is called Mind, and Fate, and Jupiter, and by many other names besides. And that, as he was in the beginning by himself, he turned into water the whole substance which pervaded the air; and as the seed is contained in the produce, so too, he being the seminal principle of the world, remained behind in moisture, making matter fit to be employed by himself in the production of those things which were to come after; and then, first of all, he made the four elements, fire, water, air, and earth. And Zeno speaks of these in his treatise on the Universe, and so does Chrysippus in the first book of his Physics, and so does Archedemus in some treatise on the Elements.

They also teach that God is one and that he is called Mind, Fate, Jupiter, and many other names. In the beginning, he existed alone and turned all the substance that filled the air into water. Just as seed is contained in what it produces, God is the seminal principle of the world. He remained in the moisture, making matter fit for him to use in producing the things that would come later. He then made the four elements first: fire, water, air, and earth. Zeno discusses these elements in his treatise on the Universe. So does Chrysippus in the first book of his Physics, and Archedemus in a treatise on the Elements.

LXIX. Now an element is that out of which at first all things which are are produced, and into which all things are resolved at last. And the four elements are all equally an essence without any distinctive quality, namely, matter; but fire is the hot, water the moist, air the cold, and earth the dry—though this last quality is also common to the air. The fire is the highest, and that is called æther, in which first of all the sphere was generated in which the fixed stars are set, then that in which the planets revolve; after that the air, then the water; and the sediment as it were of all is the earth, which is placed in the centre of the rest.

LXIX. An element is what all things first come from and what they finally return to. The four elements are all equally a substance without any distinctive quality, namely, matter. But fire is hot, water is moist, air is cold, and earth is dry. Air also shares this last quality. Fire is the highest element, and it is called æther. Within it, the sphere containing the fixed stars was formed first, followed by the sphere in which the planets revolve. Below these are air and then water. Earth is like the sediment of all the elements, and it lies at the center of the rest.

LXX. They also speak of the world in a threefold sense; at one time meaning God himself, whom they call a being of a certain quality, having for his peculiar manifestation universal substance, a being imperishable, and who never had any generation, being the maker of the arrangement and order that we see; and who, after certain periods of time, absorbs all substance in himself, and then re-produces it from himself. And this arrangement of the stars they call the world, and so the third sense is one composed of both the preceding ones. And the world is a thing which is peculiarly of such and such a quality consisting of universal substance, as Posidonius affirms in his Meteorological Elements, being a system compounded of heaven and earth, and all the creatures which exist in them; or it may be called a system compounded of Gods and men, and of the things created on their account. And the heaven is the most remote circumference of the world, in which all the Divine Nature is situated.

LXX. They also use the word “world” in three senses. First, they mean God himself, whom they describe as a being with a certain quality, manifested in universal substance. He cannot perish and was never created. He is the maker of the arrangement and order we see. After certain periods of time, he absorbs all substance into himself, then brings it forth again from himself. Second, they call the arrangement of the stars the world. The third sense combines the first two. The world has a particular quality and consists of universal substance, as Posidonius says in his Meteorological Elements. It is a system made up of heaven and earth and all the creatures in them. It may also be called a system made up of Gods and men and the things created for their sake. Heaven is the outermost boundary of the world, where all the Divine Nature is situated.

Again, the world is inhabited and regulated according to intellect and providence, as Chrysippus says, in his works on Providence, and Posidonius in the thirteenth book of his treatise on Gods, since mind penetrates into every part of the world, just as the soul pervades us; but it is in a greater degree in some parts, and in a less degree in others. For instance, it penetrates as a habit, as, for instance, into the bones and sinews; and into some it penetrates as the mind does, for instance, into the dominant principle. And thus the whole world, being a living thing, endowed with a soul and with reason, has the æther as its dominant principle, as Antipater, of Tyre, says in the eighth book of his treatise on the World. But Chrysippus, in the first book of his essay on Providence, and Posidonius in his treatise on Gods, say that the heaven is the dominant principle of the world; and Cleanthes attributes this to the sun. Chrysippus, however, on this point contradicts himself; for he says in another place, that the most subtle portion of the æther, which is also called by the Stoics the first God, is what is infused in a sensible manner into all the beings which are in the air, and through every animal and every plant, and through the earth itself according to a certain habit; and that it is this which communicates to them the faculty of feeling.

The world, too, is inhabited and governed by intellect and providence. Chrysippus says this in his works on Providence, and Posidonius says it in the thirteenth book of his treatise on Gods. For mind penetrates every part of the world, just as the soul pervades us. But mind is present more fully in some parts than in others. For example, it penetrates bones and sinews as a habit, while it penetrates other parts as mind, as in the dominant principle. Thus the whole world is a living thing, endowed with a soul and reason. Its dominant principle is the æther, as Antipater of Tyre says in the eighth book of his treatise on the World. But Chrysippus and Posidonius say that heaven is the world's dominant principle. Chrysippus says this in the first book of his essay on Providence, and Posidonius says it in his treatise on Gods. Cleanthes assigns this role to the sun. Chrysippus, however, contradicts himself on this point. Elsewhere, he says that the most subtle part of the æther is also called the first God by the Stoics. This part, he says, is present in a way that can be sensed in all beings in the air, in every animal and plant, and in the earth itself according to a certain habit. It is this part of the æther that gives them the ability to feel.

They say too, that the world is one and also finite, having a spherical form. For that such a shape is the most convenient for motion, as Posidonius says, in the fifteenth book of his Discussions on Natural Philosophy, and so says Antipater also in his essay on the World. And on the outside there is diffused around it a boundless vacuum, which is incorporeal. And it is incorporeal inasmuch, as it is capable of being contained by bodies, but is not so. And that there is no such thing as a vacuum in the world, but that it is all closely united and compact; for that this condition is necessarily brought about by the concord and harmony which exist between the heavenly bodies and those of the earth. And Chrysippus mentions a vacuum in his essay on a Vacuum, and also in the first book of his treatise on the Physical Arts, and so does Apollophanes in his Natural Philosophy, and so does Apollodorus, and so does Posidonius in the second book of his discourses on Natural Philosophy. And they say that these things are all incorporeal, and all alike. Moreover, that time is incorporeal, since it is an interval of the motion of the world. And that of time, the past and the future are both illimitable, but the present is limited. And they assert that the world is perishable, inasmuch as it was produced by reason, and is one of the things which are perceptible by the senses; and whatever has its parts perishable, must also be perishable in the whole. And the parts of the world are perishable, for they change into one another. Therefore, the whole world is perishable. And again, if anything admits of a change for the worse it is perishable; therefore, the world is perishable, for it can be dried up, and it can be covered with water.

They also say that there is one world, that it is finite, and that it is spherical. This shape is best suited to motion, according to Posidonius in the fifteenth book of his Discussions on Natural Philosophy. Antipater says the same in his essay on the World. Outside the world, a boundless, incorporeal vacuum extends in all directions. The vacuum is incorporeal because it can be occupied by bodies, but is not occupied by them. There is no vacuum within the world. Instead, everything in it is closely joined and compact. This condition necessarily results from the agreement and harmony between heavenly bodies and earthly bodies. Chrysippus mentions a vacuum in his essay on a Vacuum and in the first book of his treatise on the Physical Arts. Apollophanes also mentions one in his Natural Philosophy, as do Apollodorus and Posidonius. Posidonius does so in the second book of his discourses on Natural Philosophy. They say that these things are all incorporeal and all alike. They also say that time is incorporeal because it is an interval of the world’s motion. The past and the future are both limitless, but the present is limited. They assert that the world can perish because it was produced by reason and can be perceived by the senses. Whatever has parts that can perish must also be able to perish as a whole. The parts of the world can perish because they change into one another. Therefore, the whole world can perish. Again, if anything can change for the worse, it can perish. Therefore, the world can perish, because it can dry up and it can be covered with water.

Now the world was created when its substance was changed from fire to moisture, by the action of the air; and then its denser parts coagulated, and so the earth was made, and the thinner portions were evaporated and became air; and this being rarefied more and more, produced fire. And then, by the combination of all these elements, were produced plants and animals, and other kinds of things. Now Zeno speaks of the creation, and of the destruction of the world, in his treatise on the Universe, and so does Cleanthes, and so does Antipater, in the tenth book of his treatise on the World. But Panætius asserts that the world is imperishable.

The world was created when air changed its substance from fire into moisture. The denser parts then solidified, forming the earth. The thinner parts evaporated and became air. As the air grew thinner, it produced fire. The combination of all these elements then produced plants, animals, and other kinds of things. Zeno discusses the creation and destruction of the world in his treatise on the Universe. Cleanthes also discusses them, as does Antipater in the tenth book of his treatise on the World. But Panætius maintains that the world cannot be destroyed.

Again, that the world is an animal, and that it is endued with reason, and life, and intellect, is affirmed by Chrysippus, in the first volume of his treatise on Providence, and by Apollodorus in his Natural Philosophy, and by Posidonius; and that it is an animal in this sense, as being an essence endued with life, and with sensation. For that which is an animal, is better than that which is not an animal. But nothing is better than the world; therefore the world is an animal. And it is endued with life, as is plain from the fact of our own soul being as it were a fragment broken off from it. But Boethus denies that the world is an animal.

Chrysippus, Apollodorus, and Posidonius also say that the world is an animal, endowed with reason, life, and intellect. Chrysippus says this in the first volume of his treatise on Providence, and Apollodorus says it in his Natural Philosophy. They mean that the world is an animal in the sense that it is a living substance with sensation. For an animal is better than something that is not an animal. But nothing is better than the world, so the world is an animal. The world is alive, as is clear from the fact that our own soul is like a fragment broken off from it. But Boethus denies that the world is an animal.

Again, that the world is one, is affirmed by Zeno, in his treatise on the Universe, and by Chrysippus, and by Apollodorus, in his Natural Philosophy, and by Posidonius, in the first book of his Discourses on Natural Philosophy. And by the term, the universe, according to Apollodorus, is understood both the world itself, and also the whole of the world itself, and of the exterior vacuum taken together. The world, then, is finite, and the vacuum infinite.

Zeno also says that there is only one world in his treatise on the Universe. Chrysippus says the same, as does Apollodorus in his Natural Philosophy. Posidonius also says this in the first book of his Discourses on Natural Philosophy. According to Apollodorus, the term “universe” can mean the world itself. It can also mean the world and the void outside it, taken together. The world is finite, while the void is infinite.

LXXI. Of the stars, those which are fixed are only moved in connection with the movements of the entire heaven; but the planets move according to their own peculiar and separate motions. And the sun takes an oblique path through the circle of the zodiac, and in the same manner also does the moon, which is of a winding form. And the sun is pure fire, as Posidonius asserts in the seventh book of his treatise on the Heavenly Bodies, and it is larger than the earth, as the same author informs us, in the sixteenth book of his Disclosures on Natural Philosophy. Also it is spherical, as he says in another place, being made on the same principle as the world is. Therefore it is fire, because it performs all the functions of fire. And it is larger than the earth, as is proved by the fact of the whole earth being illuminated by it, and also the whole heaven. Also the fact of the earth throwing a conical shadow, proves that the sun is greater than it, and the sun is seen in every part, because of its magnitude. But the moon is of a more earthy nature than the sun, inasmuch as it is nearer the earth.

LXXI. The fixed stars move only with the movement of the whole heaven. But the planets have their own separate motions. The sun takes an oblique path through the circle of the zodiac. The moon, which has a winding form, follows a similar path. Posidonius says in the seventh book of his treatise on the Heavenly Bodies that the sun is pure fire. In the sixteenth book of his Disclosures on Natural Philosophy, he says that it is larger than the earth. Elsewhere, he says that the sun is spherical, having been made on the same principle as the world. The sun is fire because it performs all the functions of fire. Its greater size is proven by the fact that it lights up the whole earth and the whole heaven. The earth also casts a cone-shaped shadow, which proves that the sun is larger than the earth. Because of its size, the sun can be seen everywhere. But the moon is more earthy in nature than the sun, since it is closer to the earth.

Moreover, they say that all these fiery bodies, and all the other stars, receive nutriment; the sun from the vast sea, being a sort of intellectual appendage; and the moon from the fresh waters, being mingled with the air, and also near the earth, as Posidonius explains it in the sixth book of his Discourses on Natural Philosophy. And all the other stars derive their nourishment from the earth. They also consider that the stars are of a spherical figure, and that the earth is immovable. And that the moon has not a light of her own, but that she borrows it from the sun. And that the sun is eclipsed, when the moon runs in front of it on the side towards us, as Zeno describes in his work on the Universe; for when it comes across it in its passage, it conceals it, and again it reveals it; and this is a phenomenon easily seen in a basin of water. And the moon is eclipsed when it comes below the shadow of the earth, on which account this never happens, except at the time of the full moon; and although it is diametrically opposite to the sun every month, still it is not eclipsed every month, because when its motions are obliquely towards the sun, it does not find itself in the same place as the sun, being either a little more to the north, or a little more to the south. When therefore it is found in the same place with the sun, and with the other intermediate objects, then it takes as it were the diameter of the sun, and is eclipsed. And its place is along the line which runs between the crab and the scorpion, and the ram and the bull, as Posidonius tells us.

They also say that all these fiery bodies and all the other stars receive nourishment. The sun, which is a kind of intellectual appendage, draws nourishment from the vast sea. The moon draws nourishment from fresh water, since it is mingled with the air and near the earth. Posidonius explains this in the sixth book of his Discourses on Natural Philosophy. All the other stars draw their nourishment from the earth. They also believe that the stars are spherical and that the earth does not move. The moon has no light of its own but borrows it from the sun. The sun is eclipsed when the moon passes in front of it on the side facing us. Zeno describes this in his work on the Universe. As the moon passes across the sun, it hides the sun and then reveals it again. This is easy to see in a basin of water. The moon is eclipsed when it passes into the earth’s shadow. For this reason, a lunar eclipse happens only at the full moon. Although the moon is directly opposite the sun every month, it is not eclipsed every month. This is because its motions are oblique to the sun, placing it a little north or south of the sun. When the moon is in the same place as the sun and the other objects between them, it crosses, as it were, the sun’s diameter and is eclipsed. According to Posidonius, its position is along the line between the Crab and the Scorpion, and the Ram and the Bull.

LXXII. They also say that God is an animal immortal, rational, perfect, and intellectual in his happiness, unsusceptible of any kind of evil, having a foreknowledge of the world and of all that is in the world; however, that he has not the figure of a man; and that he is the creator of the universe, and as it were, the Father of all things in common, and that a portion of him pervades everything, which is called by different names, according to its powers; for they call him Δία as being the person (δι’ ὃν) everything is, and Ζῆνα, inasmuch as he is the cause of life, (τοῦ Ζῆν), or because he pervades life. And Ἀθηνᾶ, with reference to the extension of his dominant power over the æther (εἰς αἰθέρα). And Ἥρα, on account of his extension through the air (εἰς ἀέρα). And Ἥφαιστος, on account of his pervading fire, which is the chief instrument of art; and Ποσειδῶν, as pervading moisture, and Δημήτηρ, as pervading the earth (Γῆ). And in the same way, regarding some other of his peculiar attributes, they have given him other names.

LXXII. They also say that God is an immortal, rational, perfect living being, whose happiness is guided by intellect. He is incapable of any kind of evil and knows the world and everything in it beforehand. But he does not have a human form. He is the creator of the universe and, as it were, the Father of all things. A part of him pervades everything and is called by different names according to its powers. They call him Δία because he is the one through whom (δι’ ὃν) everything exists. They call him Ζῆνα because he is the cause of life (τοῦ Ζῆν), or because he pervades life. They call him Ἀθηνᾶ because his ruling power extends through the ether (εἰς αἰθέρα). They call him Ἥρα because he extends through the air (εἰς ἀέρα). They call him Ἥφαιστος because he pervades fire, the chief instrument of art. They call him Ποσειδῶν because he pervades moisture, and Δημήτηρ because he pervades the earth (Γῆ). In the same way, they have given him other names based on some of his other distinctive attributes.

It is hardly necessary to point out that Ἀθηνᾶ is the name of Minerva, not Jupiter. Ἥρα is Juno, Ἥφαιστος is Vulcan, Ποσειδῶν is Neptune, and Δημήτηρ is Ceres. Ἥφαιστος is properly derived from φαίνω, meaning “to shine.” Ποσειδῶν has some connection with πόω, meaning “to drink.” Δημήτηρ is only a dialectal variation of Τῆ μητὴρ.

The substance of God is asserted by Zeno to be the universal world, and the heaven; and Chrysippus agrees with this doctrine, in his eleventh book on the Gods, and so also does Posidonius, in the first book of his treatise on the same subject. Antipater, in the seventh book of his treatise on the World, says that his substance is aërial. And Boethus, in his treatise on Nature, calls the substance of God the sphere of the fixed stars.

Zeno says that God’s substance is the whole world and the heavens. Chrysippus agrees in the eleventh book of his work on the Gods. So does Posidonius in the first book of his work on the same subject. Antipater says in the seventh book of his work on the World that God’s substance is air. Boethus, in his work on Nature, says that God’s substance is the sphere of the fixed stars.

LXXIII. And his nature they define to be, that which keeps the world together, and sometimes that which produces the things upon the earth. And nature is a habit which derives its movements from itself, perfecting and holding together all that arises out of it, according to the principles of production, in certain definite periods, and doing the same as the things from which it is separated. And it has for its object, suitableness and pleasure, as is plain from its having created man.

LXXIII. They define his nature as what holds the world together. Sometimes they define it as what produces things on earth. Nature is a self-moving disposition. It brings to completion and holds together all that arises from it, according to the principles of production, within certain fixed periods. It also does the same as the things from which it is separated. Its aims are fitness and pleasure, as is clear from its creation of man.

LXXIV. But Chrysippus, in his treatise on Fate, and Posidonius, in the second book of his work on Fate, and Zeno, and Boethus, in the eleventh book of his treatise on Fate, say, that all things are produced by fate. And fate, (εἱμαρμένη), is a connected (εἰρομένη) cause of existing things, or the reason according to which the world is regulated.

LXXIV. But Chrysippus, Posidonius, Zeno, and Boethus say that fate causes all things. Chrysippus says this in his treatise on Fate. Posidonius says it in the second book of his work on Fate, and Boethus in the eleventh book of his treatise on Fate. Fate (εἱμαρμένη) is a connected (εἰρομένη) cause of all existing things, or the reason that governs the world.

LXXV. They also say that divination has a universal existence, since Providence has; and they define it as an act on account of certain results, as Zeno and Chrysippus, in the second book of his treatise on Divination, and Athenodorus and Posidonius, in the twelfth book of his discourses on Natural Philosophy, and in the fifth book of his treatise on Divination, all agree in saying; for Panætius denies that it has any certain foundation.

LXXV. They also say that divination exists everywhere, since Providence does. They define divination as an act performed for the sake of certain results. Zeno and Chrysippus agree on this, as Chrysippus says in the second book of his treatise on Divination. Athenodorus and Posidonius also agree, as Posidonius says in the twelfth book of his discourses on Natural Philosophy and the fifth book of his treatise on Divination. Panætius, however, denies that divination has any certain foundation.

LXXVI. And they say that the substance of all existing things is Primary Matter, as Chrysippus asserts in the first book of his Physics; and Zeno says the same. Now matter is that from which anything whatever is produced. And it is called by a twofold appellation, essence and matter; the one as relating to all things taken together, and the other to things in particular and separate. The one which relates to all things taken together, never becomes either greater or less; but the one relating to things in particular, does become greater or less, as the case may be.

LXXVI. They say that Primary Matter is the substance of all existing things. Chrysippus asserts this in the first book of his Physics, and Zeno says the same. Matter is that from which anything is produced. It has two names: essence and matter. It is called essence when considered as all things together, and matter when considered as particular, separate things. Essence never becomes greater or less, but the matter of particular things becomes greater or less, as the case may be.

LXXVII. Body is, according to them, a substance and finite; as Antipater says, in the second book of his treatise on Substance; and Apollodorus, in his Natural Philosophy, agrees with him. It is also subject to change, as we learn from the same author; for if it were immutable, then the things which have been produced out of it would not have been produced; on which account he also says that it is infinitely divisible: but Chrysippus denies that it is infinite; for that nothing is infinite, which is divisible at all.

LXXVII. According to them, body is a substance and is finite. Antipater says this in the second book of his treatise on Substance. Apollodorus agrees in his Natural Philosophy. Apollodorus also says that body is subject to change. For if body were unchangeable, the things produced from it would not have been produced. For this reason, he also says that body is infinitely divisible. But Chrysippus denies that body is infinite, because nothing divisible is infinite.

LXXVIII. He admits, however, that it is infinitely divisible, and that its concretions take place over the whole of it, as he explains in the third book of his Physics, and not according to any circumference or juxtaposition; for a little wine when thrown into the sea, will keep its distinctness for a brief period, but after that, will be lost.

LXXVIII. However, he admits that it is infinitely divisible. As he explains in the third book of his Physics, its concretions occur throughout it, not through a surrounding boundary or by being placed side by side. For a little wine poured into the sea remains distinct for a short time, but is then lost.

LXXIX. They also say that there are some Dæmones, who have a sympathy with mankind, being surveyors of all human affairs; and that there are heroes, which are the souls of virtuous men, which have left their bodies.

LXXIX. They also say that some Dæmones have sympathy for mankind and watch over all human affairs. They say, too, that heroes are the souls of virtuous men who have left their bodies.

LXXX. Of the things which take place in the air, they say that winter is the effect of the air above the earth being cooled, on account of the retirement of the sun to a greater distance than before; that spring is a good temperature of the air, according to the sun’s approach towards us; that summer is the effect of the air above the earth being warmed by the approach of the sun towards the north; that autumn is caused by the retreat of the sun from us … to those places from which they flow.

LXXX. They explain the seasons as events in the air. Winter comes when the air above the earth cools because the sun has moved farther away than before. Spring brings mild air as the sun approaches us. Summer comes when the air above the earth warms as the sun approaches the north. Autumn is caused by the sun’s retreat from us … to the places from which they flow.

There is a gap in the text here. Casaubon supplies the meaning by referring to Plutarch’s Treatise on the opinions of the Philosophers, iii. 7: “that the winds are a flowing of the air, and that they have various names with reference to the countries from which they flow.”

LXXXI. And the cause of the production of the winds is the sun, which evaporates the clouds. Moreover, the rainbow is the reflexion of the sun’s rays from the moist clouds, or, as Posidonius explains it in his Meteorology, a manifestation of a section of the sun or moon, in a cloud suffused with dew; being hollow and continuous to the sight; so that it is reflected as in a mirror, under the appearance of a circle. And that comets, and bearded stars, and meteors, are fires which have an existence when the density of the air is borne upwards to the regions of the æther.

LXXXI. The sun causes winds by evaporating clouds. A rainbow is the reflection of the sun’s rays from moist clouds. Posidonius offers another explanation in his Meteorology. He describes a rainbow as the appearance of part of the sun or moon in a cloud filled with dew. The cloud appears hollow and unbroken, so the image is reflected as in a mirror and looks like a circle. Comets, bearded stars, and meteors are fires that come into being when dense air rises to the regions of the ether.

That a ray of light is a kindling of sudden fire, borne through the air with great rapidity, and displaying an appearance of length; that rain proceeds from the clouds, being a transformation of them into water, whenever the moisture which is caught up from the earth or from the sea, by the sun, is not able to be otherwise disposed of; for when it is solidified, it is then called hoar frost. And hail is a cloud congealed, and subsequently dispersed by the wind. Snow is moisture from a congealed cloud, as Posidonius tells us in the eighth book of his discourse on Natural Philosophy. Lightning is a kindling of the clouds from their being rubbed together, or else broken asunder by the wind, as Zeno tells us in his treatise on the Universe; and thunder is the noise made by them on the occasion of their being rubbed together or broken asunder; and the thunderbolt is a sudden kindling which falls with great violence on the earth, from the clouds being rubbed together or broken asunder, or, as others say, it is a conversion of fiery air violently brought down to the earth. A typhon is a vast thunderbolt, violent and full of wind, or a smoky breath of a cloud broken asunder. A πρηστὴς is a cloud rent by fire, with wind, … into the hollows of the earth, or when the wind is pent up in the earth, as Posidonius says in his eighth book; and that some of them are shakings, others rendings, others emissions of fire, and others, instances of violent fermentation.

A ray of light is a sudden burst of fire that travels rapidly through the air and appears as a line. Rain comes from clouds when they turn into water. This happens when moisture drawn up from the earth or sea by the sun cannot be disposed of otherwise. When the moisture solidifies, it is called hoarfrost. Hail is a frozen cloud that is then scattered by the wind. Snow is moisture from a frozen cloud, as Posidonius tells us in the eighth book of his discourse on Natural Philosophy. Lightning is caused when clouds catch fire as they rub together or are torn apart by the wind. Zeno says this in his treatise on the Universe. Thunder is the noise the clouds make when they rub together or are torn apart. A thunderbolt is a sudden burst of fire that falls violently to earth when clouds rub together or are torn apart. Others say it is fiery air transformed and driven violently down to earth. A typhon is a huge, violent thunderbolt full of wind, or a smoky breath from a cloud torn apart. A πρηστὴς is a cloud torn open by fire, with wind, … into the hollows of the earth, or when wind is trapped in the earth, as Posidonius says in his eighth book. Some of them are shakings, others are splits, others are releases of fire, and others are instances of violent fermentation.

Something is clearly missing here, probably a mention of an earthquake.

LXXXII. They also think that the general arrangement of the world is in this fashion; that the earth is in the middle, occupying the place of the centre; next to which comes the water, of a spherical form; and having the same centre as the earth; so that the earth is in the water; and next to the water comes the air, which has also a spherical form.

LXXXII. They also think the world is arranged as follows. The earth is in the middle, at the center. Next comes the water, which is spherical and has the same center as the earth, so that the earth is in the water. Next to the water comes the air, which is also spherical.

LXXXIII. And that there are five circles in the heaven; of which the first is the arctic circle, which is always visible; the second is the tropical summer circle; the third is the equinoctial circle; the fourth, the winter tropical circle; and the fifth the antarctic, which is not visible. And they are called parallel, because they do not incline to one another; they are drawn however around the same centre. But the zodiac is oblique, cutting the parallel circles. There are also five zones on the earth; the first is the northern one, placed under the arctic circle, uninhabitable by reason of the cold; the second is temperate; the third is uninhabitable because of the heat, and is called the torrid zone; the fourth is a temperate zone, on the other side of the torrid zone; the fifth is the southern zone, being also uninhabitable by reason of the cold.

LXXXIII. There are five circles in the heavens. The first is the Arctic Circle, which is always visible. The second is the summer tropic. The third is the equinoctial circle. The fourth is the winter tropic. The fifth is the Antarctic Circle, which is not visible. They are called parallel circles because they do not slope toward one another. They are, however, drawn around the same center. But the zodiac runs at an angle, crossing the parallel circles. There are also five zones on earth. The first is the northern zone, beneath the Arctic Circle, which is uninhabitable because of the cold. The second is temperate. The third is uninhabitable because of the heat and is called the torrid zone. The fourth is a temperate zone on the other side of the torrid zone. The fifth is the southern zone, which is also uninhabitable because of the cold.

This is similar to Virgil’s description.

LXXXIV. Another of their doctrines is that nature is an artificial fire tending by a regular road to production, which is a fiery kind of breath proceeding according to art. Also, that the soul is sensible, and that it is a spirit which is born with us; consequently it is a body and continues to exist after death; that nevertheless it is perishable. But that the soul of the universe is imperishable, and that the souls which exist in animals are only parts of that of the universe. But Zeno, the Cittiæan, and Antipater, in their treatise concerning the Soul, and Posidonius also, all say that the soul is a warm spirit; for that by it we have our breath, and by it we are moved. Cleanthes, accordingly, asserts that all souls continue to exist till they are burnt up; but Chrysippus says that it is only the souls of the wise that endure. And they further teach that there are eight parts of the soul; the five senses, and the generative faculties, and voice, and reason. And we see because of a body of luminous air which extends from the organ of sight to the object in a conical form, as it is asserted by Chrysippus, in the second book of his Natural Philosophy, and also by Apollodorus. And the apex of this cone is close to the eye, and its base is formed by the object which is seen; so that that which is seen is as it were reported to the eye by this continuous cone of air extended towards it like a staff. In the same way, we hear because the air between the speaker and the hearer is struck in a spherical manner; and is then agitated in waves, resembling the circular eddies which one sees in a cistern when a stone is dropped into it.

LXXXIV. Another of their doctrines is that nature is an artificial fire that follows a regular path toward production. This fire is a kind of fiery breath that proceeds according to art. They also teach that the soul can perceive and is a spirit born with us. Therefore, the soul is a body and continues to exist after death, though it can perish. But the soul of the universe cannot perish. The souls of animals are only parts of the soul of the universe. Zeno, the Cittiæan, and Antipater, in their treatise on the Soul, and Posidonius also, say that the soul is a warm spirit. For it is through the soul that we breathe and move. Cleanthes, accordingly, says that all souls continue to exist until they are burned up. But Chrysippus says that only the souls of the wise endure. They also teach that the soul has eight parts: the five senses, the reproductive faculties, voice, and reason. We see because a body of luminous air extends in a cone from the eye to the object seen. Chrysippus makes this claim in the second book of his Natural Philosophy, and Apollodorus does too. The tip of the cone is near the eye, and the object seen forms its base. The object is, as it were, reported to the eye by this unbroken cone of air, extended toward it like a staff. In the same way, we hear because the air between the speaker and the listener is struck in a spherical pattern. The air is then stirred into waves, like the circular ripples seen in a cistern when a stone is dropped into it.

Sleep, they say, is produced by a relaxation of the æsthetic energies with reference to the dominant part of the soul. And the causes of the passions they explain to be the motions and conversions which take place in connection with this spirit or soul.

They say sleep occurs when the senses relax in relation to the governing part of the soul. They explain that emotions are caused by movements and changes connected with this spirit or soul.

LXXXV. Seed, they define as a thing of a nature capable of producing other things of the same nature as the thing from which it has been separated. And the seed of man, which man emits, is, together with moisture, mixed up with the parts of the soul by that kind of mixture which corresponds to the capacity of the parents. And Chrysippus says, in the second book of his Natural Philosophy, that it is a spirit according to substance; as is manifest from the seeds which are planted in the earth; and which, if they are old, do not germinate, because all their virtue has evaporated. And Sphærus says, that seed proceeds from the entire body, and that that is how it is that it produces all the parts of the body.

LXXXV. They define seed as something capable of producing other things of the same nature as the thing it came from. Human seed, which a man emits, is mixed with moisture and parts of the soul. The kind of mixture corresponds to the parents’ capacity. In the second book of his Natural Philosophy, Chrysippus says that seed is spirit in substance. This is clear from seeds planted in the earth. If the seeds are old, they do not germinate, because all their vital power has evaporated. Sphærus says that seed comes from the entire body. That is how seed produces all the parts of the body.

They also say that the seed of the female is unproductive; for, as Sphærus says, it is devoid of tone, and small in quantity, and watery.

They also say that female seed is unproductive. According to Sphærus, this is because it lacks strength, is present in small amounts, and is watery.

LXXXVI. They also say that that is the dominant part of the soul which is its most excellent part; in which the imaginations and the desires are formed, and whence reason proceeds. And this place is in the heart.

LXXXVI. They also say that the ruling part of the soul is its most excellent part. Impressions and desires form there, and reason comes from it. This part of the soul is in the heart.

These then are the doctrines on the subject of natural philosophy entertained by them, which it seems sufficient for us to detail, having regard to the due proportions of this book. And the following are the points in which some of them disagreed with the rest.

These, then, are their views on natural philosophy. Given the intended length of this book, I think this account is sufficient. The following are the points on which some of them disagreed with the others.